Opinion Between propaganda and ‘virality’, we must not forget to listen to A R Rahman

While Rahman spoke of how music companies now assemble songs by hiring five composers for one project, he also mentioned a growing shift toward propaganda and the divisive tone of certain films, including Chhaava (2025) — on which he worked as composer. More delicately, he alluded to an increasingly communal environment.

He did so softly, and without any rancour. There was no attempt to solicit sympathy, seek validation or play victim, even if that is how his remarks have since been characterised by online mobs. His critics moved in swiftly, questioning his motives, calling him “ungrateful” and describing his recent music as mediocre. The Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) accused Rahman of “defaming” the country, while BJP MP Kangana Ranaut called him “prejudiced and hateful”. Many asked him to “revert” to Hinduism if things were so troublesome, while the larger industry distanced itself from his remarks.

The online attack on Rahman became so aggressive that he had to put out a statement. After a distinguished career built over decades, he was forced to explain himself, describing music as his “way of connecting, celebrating and honouring our culture”. He added “India is my inspiration, my teacher and my home. I understand that intentions can sometimes be misunderstood. But my purpose has always been to uplift, honour and serve through music. I have never wished to cause pain, and I hope my sincerity is felt.” It was a dignified response that those who troll him can perhaps learn from.

In 2020, too, Rahman had spoken about losing work in Bollywood due to its politics. At that time, people had rallied behind him. So what has changed since then?

At that time, Rahman’s criticism was neatly aligned with the prevailing distrust of the industry, which began after Sushant Singh Rajput’s death by suicide. This was when the hashtag #BoycottBollywood gained momentum. Television debates branded the industry as a “drug cartel” and a breeding ground for nepotism. Anyone who retained their independent voice was harassed. Deepika Padukone’s Chhapaak (2020) became embroiled in controversy after she stood in support of JNUSU President Aishe Ghosh, who had been assaulted by ABVP members during the protests against the Citizenship Amendment Act. Director Meghna Gulzar acknowledged that the visit impacted the film. Aamir Khan’s Laal Singh Chaddha (2022) suffered significant box office losses due to a boycott campaign, after his 2015 comments on “growing intolerance” led to him being called “anti-national”.

This is also when a certain kind of propaganda cinema gained momentum, one that reduced complex histories into stark moral binaries. Films like The Kashmir Files (2022) and The Kerala Story (2023), among others, had politically charged narratives as well as the apparent blessing of the ruling government (getting tax-free status in BJP-ruled states, for example).

The power shift Rahman talks of is visible to anyone paying the slightest attention. Hindi film music is now a corporate strategy and songs are often built for virality and streaming platforms. They are no longer as guided by the story, which also explains why they sound similar and bland and why a remix of a familiar ditty surfaces every now and then. Hindi film music, increasingly, has been reduced to content creation. Creation of music is now dependent on what is easily discoverable. Spotify has tools that help musicians understand their audience demographics and create targeted strategies. Producers are unsure if original music will be successful. “Composers are now slaves to this demon called algorithm,” Amit Trivedi told me in an interview last year. No one is exempt from the number game.

Rahman has nothing to prove. He is analysing a system that he has observed closely over decades. Yet, instead of being heard, he faces a massive backlash. It’s like the laboratory being blamed when a blood test points to the existence of an illness.

If one looks at Rahman’s discography, one can see a decline in his Hindi projects over the last few years. Those who cite his high-profile projects overlook that a lot of them come from international filmmakers and from the South or are a repeat of past collaborations (such as with Imtiaz Ali and Anand L Rai). While his stature remains significant, his presence in Bollywood has become intermittent. His last big Hindi project was Ali’s Amar Singh Chamkila in 2024. Then there is Nitesh Tiwari’s upcoming Ramayana where he has collaborated with Hans Zimmer, a project of immense scale and cultural weight, which brings together artists from communities that are increasingly sought to be painted as outsiders. “I am a Muslim, Hans Zimmer is a Jew. We both are composing for the Ramayana,” said Rahman in the same interview, speaking about the pluralism he continues to believe in.

Creativity will always transcend the narrow definitions of belonging and the film industry, in the past, has been a shining example of that. Rahman is the same musician who’s given us some of the finest bhajans in Swades (2004) and Lagaan (2001). To dismiss his lived experience as exaggeration is to sideline the voice of one of the most significant musicians of our time. This is not just ignorance; it is a cultural failure for the industry as well as those pointing swords right now.

Our response to his discomfort cannot be “you are wrong and everything is fine”. There is a need to dig deeper.

The writer is Senior Assistant Editor, The Indian Express. suanshu.khurana@expressindia.com