Tanvi Shah on her high-energy live show, cancer journey and the power of authentic music

As you know, I’m known for world music, so I’ll be exploring a variety of languages and cultures through the set. The set will evolve according to the pulse of the crowd and the energy in the room. We will be taking audiences on a musical journey, from Barranquilla in Colombia to Lebanon, Africa, and beyond. The idea is to celebrate music without boundaries and create one big global party.”

I’m also fortunate to have a fantastic team behind me. I’ll be performing with my incredible band who are my backbone. Their support, energy and musicianship make it possible for me to do what I do on stage, and I’m incredibly grateful for that.”

Doori happened after I did my Sinhalese single, a collaboration with Joe Pereira in Sri Lanka. Around that time, I lost a friend, and the song came straight from the heart. There was no strategy behind it. I simply felt the need to express something, so I wrote it, recorded it, and put it out. These days, everything seems to revolve around planning, campaigns, and metrics. While I understand why that matters, sometimes I feel we lose sight of what music is really about. It’s meant to connect, to express, and to move people. For Doori, I wanted to follow that instinct. I just wanted the song to exist and find its audience naturally. I was fortunate to have Naveen Napier work on it as well, he played both the acoustic guitar and the bass guitar, and his contribution added so much to the track.

I was excited because, to be honest, I did not know even the ‘S’ of Sinhala. When the opportunity came along and they approached me about it, I thought, ‘Why not?’ Of course, I spent about a week to 10 days working on the pronunciation and learning how to properly enunciate everything. I wanted to make sure I did justice to the language.

When I went to Sri Lanka for the release, I was delighted by the response. People kept telling me, ‘My God, you sound like a Sinhala woman.’ That was such a wonderful compliment to receive. At the time, I also had very short hair, so I blended in quite well. I believe everything is a journey. You cannot expect every achievement to arrive with a huge bang. Sometimes it is about taking small steps and appreciating the progress along the way.

What made me happiest was the way the audience accepted me. Many people told me they could not tell I was from India and that they could not hear an accent. Seeing myself on Sri Lankan television channels, performing the song and connecting with audiences there, was incredibly rewarding. More than anything, when you see a smile on someone’s face or a twinkle in their eye, you feel as though you have achieved something meaningful.

I have always believed that music is one of the few things that truly brings people together. Whether you are listening to Beyoncé, J Balvin, or any other artiste, people will dance, connect and respond to the music. It does not matter whether you understand the language or not.

My perspective is slightly different. For me, my responsibility is to create honestly. My job is to put my work out into the world with complete sincerity and commitment, to give it 200 percent. What people take from it afterwards is up to them. Of course, we live in a time of constant promotion, boosting, and chasing visibility. There are parts of the industry that focus heavily on numbers and trends. But I know who I am, and I know why I do this.

My biggest measure of success is being able to put my head on the pillow at night and feel satisfied with what I created. If I can honestly say, ‘I gave this my best,’ then that means something to me. And yes, when it comes to performing live, I’d love to see a full house. Every artiste wants that. But ultimately, that comes down to the connection you build with people through your work. If I have that pull, if the music resonates, then the audience will come. That’s how I see it.

Actually, music came into the picture much later, towards the end of the journey. For me, the diagnosis was a complete shock. At that point, I was at the peak of my career, travelling constantly and performing. Then suddenly, someone tells you, ‘You have cancer.’ Within what felt like moments, everything changed. One day you’re living your normal life, and the next you’re recovering from surgery, seeing tubes coming out of your body. Then comes chemotherapy, and almost overnight your hair begins to fall out. It is traumatic.

You feel as though you have seen hell and somehow made your way back. During treatment, you lose a lot of your independence. You become almost childlike in the sense that everyone is telling you what to do. Sit this way. Stand this way. Take this injection. Take this medication. Follow this schedule. For a period of time, your life is no longer entirely your own.

What the experience taught me is that life can change in an instant. So often, we are rushing from one goal to the next, constantly telling ourselves that we have to achieve more, do more and keep moving forward. We become consumed by deadlines, ambitions and expectations. Then something happens that forces you to stop and confront what really matters.

Post-treatment, I think I’ve become a very different person. There was a time when I was constantly chasing numbers and achievements. These days, inspiration comes from the simplest moments. It might be while I’m sitting alone in a quiet café with a cup of coffee, reading a book, or journalling. Sometimes it comes during my daily routines.

I’m still working on rebuilding my lung capacity, so there are mornings when I’m up at five o’clock practising vocal exercises. My mother will sometimes tell me, ‘Go and answer the doorbell,’ and I’ll say, ‘Just let me get my note right first.’ Those moments often spark ideas. A melody might suddenly appear while I’m practising, walking, or swimming.

Swimming, in particular, has become a fascinating source of inspiration. Because I use it to work on my breath control, I spend time underwater, sometimes sitting quietly at the bottom of the pool. There’s something about that environment that changes your state of mind. Everything becomes still. The outside world fades away, and all you can hear is your breathing, your heartbeat and that soft, muted sound of the water around you. It’s almost like white noise. In that silence, the mind starts to wander. Melodies, rhythms and musical ideas begin to emerge out of nowhere. It’s quite extraordinary. Those are often the moments when inspiration arrives. You stop looking for it, and suddenly it finds you.

I think one of the challenges today is that people’s attention spans have become incredibly short. Everyone is scrolling, and you often have only 30 seconds, sometimes even less, to capture someone's attention. That is why there is so much focus on finding the perfect hook. You need that one moment that makes people stop and listen. I may sound a bit old-fashioned, but I think there are pros and cons to everything. Social media has certainly given artistes incredible opportunities to reach audiences directly, and that is a positive thing.

At the same time, I sometimes wonder how many people actually sit down and listen to an entire song anymore. There are still artistes whose music encourages that kind of engagement, but increasingly the focus seems to be on short clips and highlights rather than the complete musical experience. The glamour surrounding social media has also become quite expensive. Everything revolves around content creation now. A single reel can cost thousands to produce, and when you start adding everything together, the expenses become enormous.

If I release a song, there is studio time to pay for, musicians to pay, photographers, videographers, editors, styling, hair and make-up. The costs add up very quickly. When you look at the numbers, you sometimes find yourself wondering what is left at the end of it all.

For artistes who can make that system work, I have complete respect for them. But personally, I think the music should come first. Write the song. Record the song. Make sure the art itself is strong before worrying about everything else. Of course, this is only my opinion, and I want to emphasise that. Everyone has a different approach.

What I sometimes miss is the simplicity of music. What happened to sitting at a piano and playing a song? What happened to picking up a guitar and performing an acoustic set? There is something very pure about that experience.I believe artistes should enjoy their music first. Create because it brings you joy and satisfaction. I understand that numbers matter and that the industry operates the way it does, but occasionally I think artists need to step back and say, ‘I’m doing this because I love it.’

If people connect with it, wonderful. If they do not, that is perfectly fine too. Not everyone likes the same things. Some people prefer black and white, while others prefer shades of grey. That diversity of taste is what makes art interesting.

I am incredibly grateful for the years I have spent in this industry and for everything I have learned along the way, whether through chorus singing, background vocals, studio work or live performance. Those experiences have become part of my repertoire, and I am fortunate that I can now pass some of that knowledge on to the next generation through teaching and mentoring. One thing I always tell my students is not to become obsessed with views and likes. If a reel gets 500 likes, that should not be the measure of success. That is the business side of the industry. First, get the song right.

When it comes to risk, I think every day in this profession involves a degree of risk. It is difficult to point to one single moment because I have always approached my career quite differently. I never spent much time networking for the sake of networking or chasing every opportunity. I tended to stay focused on my work and let things unfold naturally.

Maybe I would have achieved even more commercially. But those choices never felt right for me. The international stage can be both exciting and intimidating because it has the power to build you up and, just as easily, pull you down. I have seen both sides of that reality. Success brings opportunities, but it also brings pressure, scrutiny and expectations. Having said that, I consider myself extremely fortunate. One of the things I am most proud of is having made my country proud. To represent the women of India on an international stage and to become the first Indian woman to win a Grammy is something I will always cherish.

`1,250 onwards.

June 19. 8.45 pm. At Bay 146,

The Savera, Mylapore.