“Instead of celebrating receiving the Padma Shri, I dedicated it as a tribute to the victims of Pahalgam”: Ronu Majumdar, internationally renowned flautist

BY SHANTISWAROOP TRIPATHI

The world-famous flautist, music composer, and inventor of the “Shankh Bansuri,” Pandit Ronu Majumdar, needs no introduction. Indeed! Due to his extraordinary talent, Ronu Majumdar and the flute have become synonymous. He is the inventor of the Shankh Bansuri, a conch-shaped flute now emulated by emerging flautists across the globe.

Ronu Majumdar Flute: Grammy Nominee’s Journey

On one hand, he has collaborated with music legends like S.D. Burman, Naushad, Gulzar, Khayyam, Vishal Bhardwaj, Lata Mangeshkar, and Pandit Ravi Shankar in several successful films. On the other hand, he has composed music and even sung in the film Nadi Ki Beti. He has also been nominated for a Grammy Award and has participated in music concerts with numerous international singers and composers. He has no shortage of admirers. American musician Ry Cooder rightly said, “Ronu is definitely the Dr. Feelgood of Indian flute.”

Pandit Ronu Majumdar organized a musical performance titled Venu Naad featuring 5,378 flautists, setting a new record. He also holds a place in the Guinness World Records for creating the largest Hindustani classical symphony. Recently, a Guinness World Records awards ceremony was held where he was honored, and this year he was also conferred the Padma Shri for his outstanding contribution to music. On April 28 (Monday), just after the April 22 terrorist attack in Pahalgam, he received the Padma Shri from President Droupadi Murmu. Rather than celebrating, he dedicated the honor to the victims of Pahalgam, offering a heartfelt tribute instead.

Here are key excerpts from a conversation with Ronu Majumdar:

• You have been serving classical music for almost fifty years. Recently, President Droupadi Murmu honored you with the Padma Shri. Don’t you feel the award came quite late?

You could say that. The entire music community has often wondered why Pandit Ronu Majumdar hadn't received the Padma Shri earlier. But I have never held any grievances against the government. When they decided to give me the award, I accepted it with open arms. I believe in the saying, “Better late than never.” I continued to work with dedication in the field of classical music, never letting up in my efforts. Eventually, the jury realized I was deserving, and the award was given. Honors like these boost our morale as artists and motivate us to strive for even greater excellence in our fields. This is not the end, nor the beginning — just the continuation. There’s much more to achieve ahead.

• You dedicated your Padma Shri to the people affected in Pahalgam. What inspired that gesture?

I acted on the voice of my inner self. I felt that while we sit safely in our homes, we must think of those who lost everything — especially the women who lost their marital symbols because of the cruelty of terrorists while vacationing in Kashmir. Their pain felt like my own. My heart wept. That’s why I chose not to celebrate receiving the Padma Shri. I didn’t host a party with family or friends. It was my personal tribute. I prayed to God to give strength to the grieving families and peace to the departed souls. We all wish to see the complete eradication of terrorism, and it is reassuring that our government is firmly committed to that goal. Similarly, when I received the Guinness World Record at the Tansen Festival in Gwalior, I did not celebrate it either — because on that same day, Ustad Zakir Hussain passed away suddenly.

• Often, at award functions, artists are asked to perform. Thankfully, there is no such tradition in the Padma Shri ceremony. But if you had been asked to perform, what would you have played?

In this ceremony, the President presents Padma Shri, Padma Bhushan, and Padma Vibhushan awards to many people, and the event takes considerable time. More importantly, it is not an entertainment program — it is a serious occasion honoring talent across all fields. So performing there is impractical. But Prime Minister Narendra Modi personally greeted me, calling my name out and congratulating me. He has had great affection for me since his Nagpur days.

If I had been asked to perform, I would have played my own composition – the raga “Srishti Vilay.” In this raga, ‘Srishti’ (creation) is symbolized by Goddess Jagadamba and Goddess Parvati, while ‘Vilay’ (dissolution) is carried out by Lord Shiva. It represents not just destruction, but cosmic dissolution — Pralaya. “Pralaya kaam sab naashan haari” — and out of this destruction, a new lotus blooms, heralding the start of a new era. The fusion of creation and dissolution is captured in this raga. It carries immense depth — when people hear it, it gives them goosebumps.

• You were born in Varanasi, a city steeped in music. Many legendary figures of classical music have had their roots or careers in Varanasi. Your father, Dr. Bhanu Majumdar, was an amateur flautist, a disciple of Pt. Pannalal Ghosh, a renowned painter, and a well-known homeopathic doctor. So, what did you learn from whom that drew you into the world of music?

The atmosphere in Varanasi was such that you didn’t need to "learn" music — you naturally absorbed it. You became what you saw. At the time, Pandit Kishan Maharaj was at the peak of his career — in my childhood, he was still a young man. I used to call Girija Devi ‘Girija Bua’. I frequently visited the homes of these greats, and being around them exposed me to the influence of thumri, dadra, cheti, kajri — and most importantly, to the power of sur (melody) and laya (rhythm). That’s what shaped me into an artist. As you know, in music, everything boils down to sur and laya — the lyrics come much later.

• Why did you choose to play the flute to become an artist?

To be honest, I didn’t choose the flute — the flute chose me. When I was about five or six years old, I broke six or seven flutes while playing with them like toys in Sarnath. I never lied, so when my father asked me about it, I told him the truth. He didn’t scold or punish me. Instead, as a form of discipline, he ordered me to practice the flute for as many hours daily as the number of flutes I had broken. So I started practicing six to seven hours a day. With that rigorous routine, I gradually fell in love with the flute — and that practice continues to serve me even today.

• What was the difference between practicing as a punishment and eventually becoming immersed in it?

I always say, "First polish, then pursue." How can a person truly practice or pursue something without first being polished? Initially, it’s mechanical — just repetition and discipline, like a robot. But that repetition conditions you. You don't even realize when that mechanical practice turns into love, and you become immersed in it. That’s exactly what happened to me — I didn’t even realize when I became completely absorbed.

• Did you come to Mumbai specifically to pursue music?

Not at all. I came to Mumbai in 1973, when I was just ten years old — but not for music. The reason we moved was homeopathy. My father’s close friend, Dr. Mukherjee, had told him that there was high demand for homeopathy in Mumbai. So my father moved here first, and the rest of the family followed six months later. I had studied up to fifth grade at the Hindi-medium Rajghat High School in Varanasi. When we moved to Mumbai, I had to continue in a Hindi-medium school, so I was admitted to sixth grade at New Era High School in Ulhasnagar. Alongside my schooling, my father had already started teaching me the flute in Varanasi itself. Later, I also learned flute from the late Pandit Laxman Prasad Jaipurwale. After arriving in Mumbai, my father entrusted me to the care of my guru, Pandit Vijay Raghav Rao — a great maestro of the flute. I was also fortunate to receive training from the legendary Pandit Ravi Shankar.

• You were close to Pandit Ravi Shankar as well. What did you learn from Pandit Vijay Raghav Rao and Pandit Ravi Shankar? What was the difference between the two?

Pandit Vijay Raghav Rao was my primary guru. He instilled in me every fine nuance of flute playing — the intricacies of ragas and raginis. Ravi Shankar ji helped shape my professional profile. In fact, he was my grand-guru, because Pandit Vijay Raghav Rao was his disciple. This relationship was quite unique. Pandit Ravi Shankar once told my guru, “Give this boy to me — his brain works like a computer.” After that, I began playing the flute in all of Ravi Shankar ji’s orchestras. In 1982, I played alongside him in the welcome song of the Asian Games, “Ath Swagatam Shubh Swagatam.”

Ravi Shankar ji gave me a sense of completeness — of what it means to be a well-rounded artist. Whatever qualities a complete performer must possess, he nurtured all of them in me. The ‘Ravi Shankar-ness’ that entered me gave me everything — how to present myself on stage, how to interact with audiences, how to sync with the tabla player — all of it. There are things that go beyond words, and Ravi Shankar ji was one of those things — a spiritual presence. As Prabhupad ji once said, Ravi Shankar ji was in his seventh birth as ‘Beenka’ — a player of stringed instruments like the veena, the most ancient of instruments. He had been a veena player through many lifetimes.

• When did you invent the Shankh Bansuri (Conch Flute), and why did you feel the need to create it?

Even the invention of the Shankh Bansuri is connected to Pandit Ravi Shankar ji. In 1988, I was in Moscow with him. While performing an alaap, he moved into the lower mandra saptak (bass octave). A regular flute can’t go below the pancham note; even when you use the pinky finger, it reaches only madhyam at best. I started feeling restless — how could I go lower? Other disciples of Ravi Shankar ji, like Pandit Vishwamohan Bhatt, could reach those depths effortlessly.

When I returned to Mumbai, I started experimenting. I received tremendous help from M. M. Pai — a brilliant scientist and a flautist himself. Such a combination is rare. He was a disciple of my guru. Thanks to him, I eventually succeeded in inventing the Shankh Bansuri. It doesn’t contain an actual conch, but its sound and resonance are like that of a shankh. That’s why I named it Shankh Bansuri.

A regular flute should be held straight, but in this case, the hands wouldn’t reach — so I experimented with angling it. Many flutes were destroyed in the process; some sounded completely off. But ultimately, I succeeded. My Shankh Bansuri is now 27 years old, and a new version has also been developed. My son Hrishikesh Majumdar plays it, and six or seven others do as well — some are my disciples, others are not, but they acknowledge my name. Not just the Shankh Bansuri — I’ve also created a unique style of presenting ragas, which blends Dhrupad gayaki and laykari (rhythmic play).

• How far do you want to take the Shankh Bansuri?

To be honest, any flute recital feels incomplete without the Shankh Bansuri. It’s like you’re standing on the first floor but never exploring the ground floor — something vital is missing. I want every flautist to rise above limitations and make use of this innovation. Whether or not they are my disciples, they should use the Shankh Bansuri. I’m always ready to help anyone who wishes to adopt it.

• There is a growing belief that traditional and folk instruments and their players are gradually disappearing. Is this true?

I don’t believe that any music or instrument is vanishing. What I do believe is that when folk instruments are not being used as much, they face problems of livelihood. “Bhooke pet hoye na bhajan Gopala...” — you would agree with that. In my opinion, the government should step forward and support these instruments to prevent their disappearance. The Sangeet Natak Akademi has been doing significant work in this area. Instruments like Yashraj and Dilruba, which had almost faded, are now being played beautifully by some young artists. I was once a judge on a program called Wah Ustaad on Doordarshan, and there was a young boy with curly hair who played the Yashraj so beautifully that I was astonished.

• In Rajasthan, there is a community that plays the ‘Ravan Hatha,’ but this art seems to have become limited to only two people. Is this true?

Please forgive me, but I don’t believe this to be true. The Mangria and Lahenga families of Jaisalmer, who play the Ravan Hatha, will never let this art form disappear. Even if they have to starve, they will not do anything else. Their only purpose is to make music. All those who play the Ravan Hatha also teach it to their children. In Jaisalmer, you will find people who sing and play folk instruments like the Ravan Hatha, Khamecha, Apam, and Sattara. These families have a unique skill — they can play without taking a breath. They can play for an entire hour without inhaling. I don’t have that skill yet, but I am learning it now.

• You use your little finger while playing the flute, which is a rare technique among flute players. How did you learn this?

Although my father was an amateur flute player, he was a disciple of Pannalal Ghosh. My father used the little finger while playing the flute, and when he started teaching me, he made sure I also used the little finger. He would guide me to position my hand correctly on the flute. When I went to my guru, Vijay Raghav Rao, he too used the seven-hole technique and followed the teachings of Pannalal Ghosh. No one has surpassed Pannalal Ghosh till today. He was pleased to see me using this technique.

• Your father expressed a wish before his death, that you should play the flute in Raag Malkauns. How did you fulfill this wish?

Raag Malkauns is very difficult to play on the flute. I was afraid of playing it, and my father was very disappointed by this. In 2009, he passed away, but just a few days before, he told me that I should play Malkauns for him. So, I began practicing with intense dedication. Although I couldn’t play it for him before he passed, after a year of intense practice, I became proficient in it. Now, Malkauns has become one of my favorite ragas. The positioning of Malkauns on the flute is quite unique, and there is a lot of room for being off-key, which makes it challenging.

• You have received many awards. Could you tell us more about them?

In 2025, I was honored with the Padma Shri award. Prior to that, on December 15, 2024, my composition "Samvet" was recorded in the Guinness Book of World Records at the Tansen Festival in Gwalior. A total of 546 classical musicians participated, and I was recorded in the Guinness World Records as the composer of the "Largest Indian Classical Band." Leading a symphony of 546 musicians was truly a humbling experience. The composition "Samvet" symbolized the collective spirit of Indian classical music, blending Miyan Malhar, Miyan ki Todi, and Darbari ragas. Earlier, for my contribution to Hindustani instrumental music, particularly the flute, I was awarded the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award in 2014. The Films Division of India made a documentary on me titled Bansurivala. I have also received the All India Radio Award (1981), Aditya Vikram Birla Award (1996), the National Kumar Gandharv Award (2006), and the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award in 2014. In 2015, I was honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the Chief Minister of Maharashtra, Shri Devendra Fadnavis, on behalf of the Navbharat Times. I was also nominated for a Grammy Award in 1996.

Read also:

• Anupamaa Set Controversy: Police Arrive After Actor Accused of Blackmailing
• Operation Sindoor: AICWA Slams Fawad Khan's Anti-India Post, Urges Ban
• Deepika Padukone on Dua: Actress Takes Big Step to Protect Daughter’s Privacy
• Kantara Tragedy: Junior Artist Dies on Set, Rishab Shetty Film Halted Mid-Shoot