I was first introduced to Aditya Gadhvi’s Charan Kanya — a song inspired by folklore about a young shepherd girl who saved her calf from a lion – a few years ago by my father, a long-time admirer of the folk tradition in Gujarati music. At eighteen, however, my ignorance, naivete, and perhaps an unfounded disregard for the culture, language, and traditions to which I belonged paid little heed to the depth and vastness it had to offer. For a long time—I realise now—I had been too caught up with Mumbai’s cosmopolitanism and completely out of entirely with my native language.
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Years later, today, I wince at that ignorance. When Coke Studio Bharat’s Khalasi took the world by storm, I realised how much I had been missing. I’ve been stuck in a rabbit hole since—incessantly listening to ‘This Is Aditya Gadhvi’ on Spotify, reconnecting with my language and traditions, and trying to make up for lost time. In a full circle moment, I had the pleasure of chatting with the Gujarati artist in between moments of his shows to learn about his tryst with music as the fervour of Navaratri takes over the country. Our conversation is only just the tip of the iceberg into the kind person he is, his purpose, and his unabashed love for folk traditions.
Hailing from Dudhrej, Gujarat, Gadhvi belongs to a family of the Charan community that has been very much rooted in the arts—music, literature, and poetry. “My great-grandfather was a poet, and my father has been in this field for years. Consciously or subconsciously, I have been inclined towards poetry and music since I was a child,” Gadhvi tells me. “I didn’t even know whether I was good or not.” But when he got the opportunity to sing during a school assembly for Janmashthami, he knew at that moment how much he wanted to pursue it. “It was the first time I sang on stage and in front of an audience. The response I received from my school friends and teachers was incredible, and I think that when I realised that I was good at this.”
At eighteen, his curiosity and what some might call crazy passion led him to take part in and win a popular music show called Lok Gayak Gujarat. “Eventually, I started performing live shows. Initially, I used to perform Dayro, a form of folk music,” he says. A year into these performances, Gadhvi realised he wanted to grow his music and further his knowledge in the field. “That’s when I went to A.R. Rahman’s college in Chennai for four years. It was an entirely different and new experience for me—I met people from different regions of India and got to understand their traditional style of music. Exposure from a maestro like Rahman sir helped me grow as an artist.”
Around this time, in 2013-14, Gadhvi had been called to sing a song for Rupesh Paul’s film ‘Kamastura3D.’ “They were looking for a Sufi folk singer, which is what I had been primarily doing at the time,” he says. Two songs that Gadhvi lent his voice to, Har Har Mahadev and Aygiri Nandini, were shortlisted for an Oscar nomination that year. “When I was first called to record the song, I didn’t even know it was for a film—so, when I was told that it had been shortlisted for the Oscars, it was a moment of surprise. I was still in Chennai at the time, working with Rahman sir,” he says. It marked the turning point for Gadhvi’s purpose as an artist. “Folk music is my life, and it has been a blessing. At Rahman’s sir’s institute, I was exposed to world music. After that learning experience, I realised that I wanted to create music rooted in my folk literature, yet something that would align with today’s time and generation. The thought was not to go viral or anything—but it was more about bringing the folk tradition to the forefront,” he says with a certain dreaminess.
“See, this was around 2013-14, when music and music videos were limited to Bollywood films. Regional music was not being given too much importance. There was no trend of listening to regional music. People couldn’t be bothered less about it. With record labels and music companies, it was natural to put commercials first—of course, there was nothing wrong with it—but popularity was most important for them. So, to try to explain to a label an attempt to bring folk music to the fore was quite difficult— whether it was event organisers or music companies.
At the time, because of the type of my voice, people would ask me to sing Sufi songs—which I did. But I was also very clear that I wanted to sing Gujarati folk. The difficulty was to explain it to large audiences. With YouTube, I realised that I didn’t need to go to a record label. If I believed in my music, I should be able to put it out there on my own,” Gadhvi explains, “That’s when I thought of creating works like Hansla, with videos that would resonate with the younger generation. Even then, I didn’t know whether this would work, but it became very popular—without changing or harming the original work and expression of the literature.”
Last year, life came full circle for Gadhvi when he received a call from Coke Studio Bharat, asking him to record a song with them. “Many, many years ago, when I was in school, my father had made me listen to a song by Coke Studio, which was the first time I heard a Coke Studio song. I was extremely fascinated by their style of music, which was rooted in the folk tradition. It was so inspiring for me. I had always been a fan, and when I got a call from them to sing a Gujarati song, it was like living a dream! Everything has just been a blessing,” he says. Khalasi hit over 140 million views on YouTube and garnered love from people across cultures, languages, and countries. With a glint of pride in his eyes, he lets us in on how he feels about the representation of regional music on the global platform. “I do think the representation has increased, the reach of Gujarati music has increased. Generally, the Gujarati community has always been associated with business. Still, in the last decade or so, many younger people are getting into the arts, whether it’s music, filmmaking, or writing—which is something I’m really happy about,” he says.
His presence on social media has helped him connect with fans from across the world. But the best kind of connection is the kind he feels when he’s on stage, performing for a live audience under the night sky. “There’s no bigger blessing than being able to perform live for any artist. To see the impact of what you’re singing on an audience in real-time—there’s no feeling greater than that. Folk music, in particular, gives immense importance to emotions, or bhav, as we say in Gujarati. Many times during concerts, when I sing a song like Mahahetavali or Kon Halave Limdi, I see thousands with tears in their eyes. When I sing Rang Bhini Radha or Khalasi, I see people dancing with joy. The feeling of being able to witness these emotions right in front of you is just indescribable,” Gadhvi says.
I asked the singer if it ever gets tiring. And he replied enthusiastically, “Not one bit. I think the peripheries like travel and logistics can get tiring, but performing never does. It relieves you of all exhaustion.”
“I think purpose changes with time. When I began, the purpose was to bring my folk music and Gujarati literature to the fore. But at the core of it all, my purpose begins and ends with music. It is something I am passionate about, and both knowingly and unknowingly, I can pay homage to my language and literature and therefore keep going,” he says. Today, his presence, reach, and an aggressively loyal audience continue to grow with a a purpose that is both rooted and ever-evolving.
