On an uncharacteristically cool April evening, I stepped out of Banani’s blaring traffic and neon haze into a dimly lit room tucked within a commercial building and almost cinematically shifted from chaos to a melodical hush. A small audience leaned forward, captivated by the spell of an ensemble that included an esraj, a sarod, a jazz guitarist and a drummer, and a vocalist whose voice moved without language, just sound, rhythm, and improvisation. The music was neither entirely classical nor jazz nor fusion, but something looser, more exploratory, alive to the moment.
