Sagar Bhatia is bringing a fresh, contemporary energy to the timeless world of qawwali. A musician who understands both tradition and evolution, he has carved a distinct space for himself with his soulful voice, emotive performances and modern interpretation of the genre. From his early days as a guitarist and musician to becoming one of the most recognisable contemporary voices in qawwali, Sagar’s journey reflects an instinct to experiment without losing the soul of the music. Here are excerpts for a candid conversation with the qawwali star…
From guitarist to becoming a recognisable voice in contemporary qawwali, when did you realise you had made your mark?
My journey has had many ups and downs. I’m still learning every day. Once, I met a four-year-old who knew my shayari and stage mannerisms. His parents said he even ate while listening to me. Children are God’s shadow. If my music could reach a child, I felt I had achieved something.
What does Sagar Wali Qawwali mean to you?
It means qawwali performed in Sagar’s style. Traditionally, qawwali is performed sitting down, but I believe music has no rules. I grew up listening to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and idolising Gurdas Maan. Sagar Wali Qawwali combines Nusrat saab’s music with Maan saab’s performance style.
How do you modernise qawwali without compromising its tradition?
You cannot tamper with qawwali’s essence, but you can experiment with its music. I retained the traditional harmonium, tabla, clapping and backing vocals while introducing electronic beats. I wanted younger audiences to understand and connect with qawwali.
What have you learnt from Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Gurdas Maan?
Gurdas Maan saab’s energy and aura are extraordinary. Someone once said I resembled him, so I began observing him closely. I learnt that your entire body must connect with the music. Nusrat saab’s poetry is incomparable. He took qawwali beyond Sufi audiences and made it popular worldwide. Both are like Gods to me.
Are you a musician who found his identity through qawwali?
Absolutely. I began as a musician, singing devotional songs. Someone suggested that my heavy voice suited Sufi qawwali. I tried singing a couple of songs in 2010, and it stayed with me.
Has the success of Sagar Wali Qawwali made you cautious about experimenting?
Not really. I experimented for years, suppressing my essence because I feared people wouldn’t accept it. Eventually, what I loved most connected with audiences. I create all kinds of music, but on stage, people expect my madness. I believe I’m a complete package.
Have you worried about diluting qawwali while making it accessible?
Young audiences need something they can understand. Some of Nusrat saab’s qawwalis have complex meanings, so I chose relatable compositions and introduced simple shayari between them. I made qawwali more commercial without disturbing its purity. Who am I to tamper with something so sacred?
Who is Sagar when the stage lights go off?
Before performing, I’m nervous. Once on stage, I become Sagar Wali Qawwali rather than Sagar Bhatia. I feel God has blessed me with this ability. Sometimes, watching my performances afterwards, I cannot believe that’s me. People think such energy is humanly impossible. But when you’re made for something, it comes naturally. The stage reciprocates, and magic happens.
What would you tell the Sagar who struggled before achieving recognition?
I still speak to that struggling boy because I never want success to overpower me. Remembering where I came from keeps me grounded. From performing before two people to entertaining 20,000, even internationally, God has given me more than I imagined. I feel like His chosen child. I want to carry that struggling Sagar with me forever.
What did your Bollywood debut with Khudaya from Sarfira teach you?
Singing for a character differs from singing for yourself. Someone else has composed the song and imagined its emotions. You must understand their vision, just as an actor adapts to a director’s interpretation.
Do you see playback becoming a bigger part of your career?
I’ve never restricted myself musically. Whether it’s playback singing, independent music, composing or live performances, I want to continue making music throughout my life. I’m not chasing any particular opportunity.
How do you connect with international audiences who may not understand every word?
I don’t approach international audiences differently. Simple shayari helps listeners understand complex qawwalis. If the poetry is difficult, I simplify the antara. If both are complicated, my performance helps audiences connect emotionally. I want their love for qawwali to last beyond a passing trend.
Does meeting growing audience expectations put pressure on you?
I’ve never consciously tried to win audiences over. I performed what I enjoyed, and people connected with it. I haven’t changed myself. They have every right to like or dislike my music. I believe that if I enjoy creating something, audiences will enjoy listening to it.
What legacy would you like to leave behind?
I want my identity to survive me. My music and performances are my most honest expressions. Audiences often tell me they’ve never seen anyone perform like me. Being remembered as a performer would be my greatest gift.
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