The 44-Instrument Virtuoso: Raghav Sachar’s Lifelong Symphony of Dedication and Discovery
Heramba Nath
In a world where mastering even one musical instrument often takes a lifetime, Indian singer, composer, and multi-instrumentalist Raghav Sachar has quietly orchestrated a rare and inspiring journey — a journey that sees him learning, absorbing, and embodying the spirit of one new instrument every year. As of today, he is honing his skills on the qanun, a Turkish string instrument he recently encountered during a concert tour in the United States. This makes the qanun his 44th instrument — a staggering number by any artistic measure and a testament to Sachar’s insatiable curiosity, discipline, and creative fervour.
For many, Raghav Sachar is a familiar name, known for his vibrant musical compositions like Jamboora and Acche Hain, and for his work as a playback singer and performer who straddles Bollywood and independent music with equal finesse. But beyond his commercial success lies a quieter, deeper, and more philosophical mission: to constantly grow as a musician, to broaden his sonic palate, and to embrace the global vocabulary of music — one instrument at a time.
It is not just the number — 44 — that stands out. It is the methodical, almost sacred nature of this pursuit. Sachar does not merely ‘try’ these instruments; he learns to speak their language. He studies their history, respects their origin, and plays them with a reverence that transforms each into a vessel of his expression. This process is not about novelty — it is about intimacy. His collection spans from Indian classical instruments like the sitar and tabla to global sounds including the saxophone, pan flute, harmonica, didgeridoo, ocarina, and now the exotic and intricate qanun. Each year, without fail, he picks up one new instrument — not as an experiment, but as a gift to himself. As he puts it, this self-gift is “rarer than rare” — a ritual of personal and musical growth that defies the pace of our impatient times.
The qanun — his latest musical partner — is a trapezoid-shaped zither with ancient roots stretching back to Mesopotamian civilisations. Played across the Middle East and North Africa, the instrument has an unmistakable timbre — delicate, cascading, and ornate. It is no small feat to adapt to such a culturally and technically distinct instrument, particularly for someone raised in India’s diverse yet distinct musical ecosystem. But for Sachar, such boundaries are not barriers; they are invitations.
What drives this pursuit? The answer lies not just in talent, but in temperament. It takes extraordinary discipline to master an instrument. But to do that every single year for over four decades requires more than talent — it demands an emotional relationship with learning itself. In an era dominated by fast fame and fleeting trends, Sachar’s devotion to patient, immersive learning is nothing short of revolutionary. He is not merely a collector of instruments; he is a pilgrim of sound.
In interviews and performances, Sachar often speaks about his instruments with the tenderness one usually reserves for loved ones. They are not tools; they are voices, each with its own personality, its own rhythm, its own breath. For him, playing them is not performance — it is communion. And it is this philosophy that makes his music feel both rooted and borderless, personal and universal.
It is also worth noting that Sachar’s journey sends a powerful message to young musicians, especially in India, where music education often remains narrowly focused on either classical or commercial training. By traversing the world through instruments — crossing not only geographies but cultural contexts — he reminds us that music is a living, breathing bridge between peoples. His exploration of global instruments also brings global awareness to Indian stages, subtly encouraging cross-cultural understanding without ever needing to preach it.
In many ways, Sachar represents a modern renaissance musician. He is not content being boxed into the identity of a “Bollywood singer” or “pop performer.” His is a wider artistic arc — one that encompasses sound engineering, composition, production, performance, and now, with increasing emphasis, ethnomusicology. He doesn’t just play instruments — he restores them, respects their craftsmanship, and educates audiences about their origin and impact.
As audiences and listeners, we often celebrate musical milestones — chartbusters, awards, concert sell-outs. But what Raghav Sachar offers is subtler, rarer, and more enduring: a lifelong commitment to the craft, one deliberate note at a time. His 44th instrument isn’t just an achievement; it’s a continuation of a melody that refuses to end, a gesture of gratitude to music itself.
In a digital age where automation and artificial intelligence can simulate any sound at the push of a button, artists like Raghav Sachar bring back the sanctity of touch, breath, and human imperfection. The nuanced pluck of a qanun string, the controlled whisper of a bamboo flute, the breathy oscillation of a pan pipe — these are not mere sounds. They are acts of presence.
There is a poetic irony in Sachar’s annual gift to himself. While many associate birthdays with material possessions or escapist vacations, he marks each year with a new challenge — to learn something that demands patience, humility, and often frustration before joy. This self-imposed discipline reminds us that the greatest gifts are those that cultivate the self.
As Sachar continues his sonic odyssey, the world watches — not just in awe, but in quiet admiration for a man who has turned learning into art and art into a bridge. In his hands, instruments cease to be foreign. They become part of a single, global language — one whose vocabulary he continues to expand, one string, reed, or key at a time.
To view his achievement merely as a count — 44 — or as a pursuit of the exotic would be to miss its essence. It is, in truth, a lifelong romance with sound, with craftsmanship, with cultures, and above all, with curiosity. Raghav Sachar’s music doesn’t just entertain; it educates, elevates, and enlightens. In every sense, he is composing not just melodies, but a philosophy of lifelong learning.