At Jodhpur RIFF, the new sound of Rajasthan's folk revival

The zenana courtyard of the 15th-century Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur was once the private domain of royal women — queens and consorts of the Maharaja’s household. But under the full moon on Oct 5, that same courtyard echoed with the voices of sisters Anita and Prem Dangi, their ghunghats pulled low and foreheads adorned with ornate jewellery like mathapatti and borla. They had travelled from Nimbola Biswa village in Nagaur district to perform at the Jodhpur RIFF main stage — a platform that has hosted some of the most striking performances in the music festival’s history.

Flanked by a bright red harmonium and dholak, the sisters sang epic ballads and lilting songs of the Rajwadi Maand tradition, the music of their Damami community. They were joined, for the first time on stage, by their mother and teacher, Ratni Devi, who presided over the nagada. As hundreds of guests from Delhi, Mumbai, Bengaluru, and Chennai listened, the sisters sang of love and longing — a wife pleading with a crow to bring her husband back from war, a mother lamenting her daughter’s faraway marriage and sending messages through forest birds like the papiha.

Backstage, when asked if they had rehearsed, the sisters smiled and shook their heads. “We’ve never done rehearsals or riyaz,” says Anita, 35. “We are connected through mind and soul. We don’t have to put effort into coordination. We don’t even look at each other. Just as we create rangoli, Maand is conceived in the mind. We were born with it.”

Anita — who last year won the folk music reality show Bharat Ka Amrit Kalash — and Prem are among Rajasthan’s most distinctive Maand singers, carrying forward the centuries-old musical legacy of the Damami community. Rooted in Rajput lineage, they were trained from a young age in Rajwadi Maand, a folk style that blends classical nuances with storytelling and is often compared to thumri or ghazal for its lyrical grace. Historically sung in royal courts to praise kings, local heroes, and festive occasions, Maand weaves tales of love, devotion, and valour.

“During weddings or happy occasions — even when a child was born — we would sing Maand before the kings and maharajas,” Anita recalls. “Our singing tradition is older than that of the Kalbeliyas. You can consider it as old as the Mehrangarh Fort, or even older. Some say we are descendants of Shatrughna, the youngest brother of Ram. When the gods were born, we sang.”

For the Dangis, singing began as both legacy and livelihood. “Where I got married, my in-laws’ financial situation was weak. In my home, we were six sisters and one brother, and all our expenses depended on what my brother earned through keyboard performances. Just ₹500 then,” says Anita. “One day, he said, ‘You already sing. Why don’t you join me?’ My in-laws relented when they saw the earnings.” Anita took up full-time singing after Class 10.

While the Dangi sisters have earned recognition, many women singers from small villages in their community still struggle against custom and poverty. “They have compulsions. Some face objections from their in-laws, some from their parents,” says Anita.

Today, the sisters are taking their music beyond village homes and local festivals. Apart from Jodhpur RIFF, they’ve performed in Jaipur, Bhopal, and Mumbai. Earlier this year, Anita collaborated with music duo Salim–Sulaiman on a devotional track, Dwarika Darbaar. “I thought we were limited to the kings’ courts. Today, we are singing for everyone. We want our voice to reach the whole world. We want to tell everyone that such a community tradition exists in India,” says Prem.

While the Dangi sisters keep their folk tradition alive on home soil, the Langa ensemble SAZ represents its next leap — taking Rajasthani music to the world. Formed in 2021, the trio — Sadiq Khan, Zakir Khan Langa , and Asin Khan — had already performed internationally before joining forces and naming their group after the initials of their names.




At this year’s Jodhpur RIFF, SAZ could be seen jamming backstage with Colombian DJ-producer Killabeatmaker and mesmerizing audiences onstage alongside Mumbai-based saxophonist Rhys Sebastian, Syrian-Swiss musician Basel Rajoub, and Kathak dancer Tarini Tripathi in a performance titled Inayat. “Mausiqui or dhun, they don’t have a language or border. They are the same everywhere,” says Asin Khan, 38. “We can easily move through jazz, blues, electronica, classical, and folk.”

The Langa — meaning “song-giver” — are hereditary Muslim musicians from Rajasthan’s Barmer and Marwar region, who historically served Sindhi Sipahi patrons. They maintained genealogical records and performed at social ceremonies. Their dominant instrument, the Sindhi sarangi, distinguishes them from the Manganiyars, who play the kamaicha. But with the decline of royal patronage and the feudal system, many folk musicians have seen their livelihoods shrink. Langa families now depend on local patrons (jajmans) or festival appearances, often earning modest incomes.

SAZ are breakthrough artists from this tradition. Their viral single Sundar Gori, released in January, will feature in their upcoming album next year. Yet the journey hasn’t been easy — the trio has reportedly faced visa hurdles, sometimes requiring special advocacy from festival organizers to perform abroad, such as at the Lincoln Center. “Compared to others in our village, we’ve gained respect and stability through exposure at Jodhpur RIFF and global tours,” says Zakir, 35. “Now people in our village are copying our songs. They’ve realised that this band became recognised through traditional music, not by singing ghazals, qawwalis or Bollywood numbers which are more popular,” he adds.

Even as they balance tradition and innovation, SAZ takes pride in reviving forgotten songs while composing new ones. Yet their proudest moment lies close to home. “When people in our village heard Sundar Gori after it was released this year, children and elders alike began humming it. They go out of their houses singing,” says Asin. “We’ll do more now.”