In an Indian festival landscape that is increasingly choosing to cater to fans of a particular genre, be it Hindustani or Carnatic classical, jazz or rock, folk or blues, Sufi or electronic dance music, Jodhpur RIFF stands out for being genre-agnostic. The sheer variety of talent on display from its home base in Rajasthan, and curated from across the world is astounding. You come away being touched, moved and shaken by music that you didn’t even know you were missing.


The latest edition of the festival was hosted from October 2 to 6, 2025 at its traditional home — the Mehrangarh Fort built by Rajput ruler Rao Jodha in the 15th century, and expanded by his descendant Jaswant Singh two centuries later. With ramparts and courtyards that leave visitors awestruck, and hilltop views that feel like a dream, this is an epic setting for a musical experience thriving on scale. It featured performers from countries like Bhutan, Spain, Uzbekistan, England, Canada, Poland, Colombia, Kazakhstan, Portugal, Finland, Switzerland and India of course.
At Jodhpur RIFF, the pleasure of listening lay as much in discovery as in recognition. It was impossible to take in everything on the itinerary. Being led by intuition rather than the fear of missing out was the best way to enjoy yourself.
Jatayu, the Chennai-based band that fuses Carnatic classical music with rock and jazz, delighted listeners with their experimental soundscapes. They had an energetic ensemble with Sahib Singh on the guitar, Manu Krishnan on drums and vocals, Kashyap Jaishankar on bass, Shylu Ravindran on kanjira and mridangam, and Wesley Crispus and Jarryd Rodrigues on the saxophone. The roaring applause proved that the north-south divide is not as rigid as it is made out to be. Music, with its visceral appeal, finds a way to get past barriers.

The dawn concert with folk singer Mahesha Ram from Jaisalmer was memorable for its quiet beauty wrapped in songs of saint-poets such as Mirabai and Narsinh Mehta known for their devotion to Lord Krishna. The singer’s narration of a story about Mirabai inviting Krishna to eat laddoos and jalebis was particularly moving because it showed how the divine is not far away but can be accessed through an informal idiom of familiarity and affection.
Gulzoda Khudoynazarova from Bukhara, who is trained in the classical Uzbek shashmaqam tradition, was surprised to see “Indians wake up so early to listen to music” when she saw a full house for her morning concert. “Before a concert, we prepare our voices and pray to Allah for it to be a success,” she said. Her haunting voice was accompanied by Bekzod Safarov on the dutar and Farrukh Vohidov on the gijjak. Apart from singing, she played an exquisite percussion instrument called the doyra. Husniddin Ato, a teacher and expert on Uzbek culture, was also part of their contingent. He helped with spontaneous translations into and from English.
Sonam Dorji, founder of the Music of Bhutan Research Centre (MBRC) in Thimphu, took listeners on a meditative journey with his skilful playing of the dranyen, a lute made of cypress wood, goatskin and nylon strings and adorned with Mahayana Buddhist motifs. Apart from advocating for the need to document and preserve Bhutan’s musical heritage, he spoke warmly of his student years at Visva-Bharati University and Maharaja Sayajirao University in India.
Dorji was part of a quartet called YakVibe, featuring Sobit Singh, Pinaki Chakraborty and Ganga Ram. Between the four of them, they play numerous musical instruments including the lim, dratong, chiwang, esraj, bass guitar, keyboard, drums, chyabrung and shakers. With Bhutanese youth migrating in large numbers to pursue education and employment opportunities, traditional music now faces competition from global sounds and musical styles. “We have to find a way of blending the traditional with the contemporary,” said Dorji. “Our songs contain the blessings of the elders, and the guardian deities, and of the Buddha himself.”

Speaking of contemporary music, London-based Rosa Cecilia moved audiences with her stylish rendition of Passers-by, a song that pays homage to her Chilean-Italian heritage, which cast her as an outsider. “What does love look like to you?” she asked, “To me, love is love. You should be free to love anyone you want to. Their gender, race or nationality should not matter.”
While her appeal for the acceptance of differences came from the experience of anti-immigrant protests and racial tensions in the United Kingdom, it was equally relevant for Indian listeners.
The call to be open-hearted and inclusive also came through quite strongly in Canadian singer-songwriter Luke Wallace’s song ‘Our Time’. Wallace, who has been using social media to speak out against the genocide in Gaza and the Canadian government’s support for Israel, sang, “I watch the hatred spreading like fire/ guess I’ll be the reason that hope grows higher.” The song is part of an album called Dandelion Resistance, which aims to inspire people to take positive action in response to their social and ecological concerns.
There was a shift from universal love to romantic love with the Cool Desert Project’s spirited performance of the song Hichki. Saxophonist Rhys Sebastian, who paired up with SAZ (Sadiq Khan on the dholak, Asin Khan on the Sindhi sarangi along with vocals, and Zakir Khan on the khartal apart from supporting vocals), for this act said, “In India, people often say that having a hiccup (hichki in Hindi) means that a loved one is thinking of you. That is beautiful!”
It was heartening to see the musicians being completely in sync with each other despite being trained in different musical traditions. “They live in Rajasthan, and I live in Mumbai. Distance is a constraint, and so is time, but this collaboration is special. Hindi is not my forte, and English isn’t theirs. But we find a way to communicate through our music,” said Sebastian.

Festival producer Divya Bhatia said, “Traditional musicians are always taught that maintaining their relationship with patrons is important. They are not taught how to earn a living. When that traditional ecosystem is eroding, it is important to invest in them.” In addition to money, there is investment in terms of curation, technical inputs, networking and audience development so that artistic growth is accompanied by performance opportunities.
Jodhpur RIFF’s hunger for innovation keeps it fresh and relevant even after 18 years of its existence. In its most recent avatar, the festival introduced a fabulous new component called ‘En Route’, which gave audiences a chance to experience the Mehrangarh fort and the city itself in an immersive, sensorial way. Produced by One Step At A Time Like This and Richard Jordan Productions and supported by Creative Australia and the Mehrangarh Museum Trust, it was structured not as a heritage walk but as a cross between a treasure hunt and performance piece.

Designed for a single audience member at a time, it was an on-site experience that blurred the distinction between the spectator and the spectacle, compelling each participant to be fully present, look around and also journey within. The experience was layered with music, poetry, craft, graffiti, and a sense of mystery. It was physically strenuous because of the heat but the masala chai at the end was refreshing.
In a nutshell, Jodhpur RIFF was an experience to remember and left you utterly eager to return.
Chintan Girish Modi writes about music, literature, art and films. He can be reached @chintanwriting on Instagram and X.