Rais Anis Sabri revives Khusro’s Nami Danam in Urdu with new single Jahan Kal Raat Ko Hum The
Renowned young Sufi Qawwal Rais Anis Sabri has just unveiled his latest single, Jahan Kal Raat Ko Hum The — a hauntingly beautiful Urdu rendition of Hazrat Amir Khusro’s 13th-century Persian poem Nami Danam. The original work, a cornerstone of Sufi mysticism, begins with the unforgettable line: Nami Danam Che Manzil Bood… (I don’t know what place it was where I was last night), evoking the mystery of divine encounters and the limits of human comprehension.
Rais Anis Sabri breathes new life into Khusro’s Nami Danam
With this new adaptation, translated by Sulaiman Khateeb, Rais Anis Sabri aims to make Khusro’s timeless message more accessible to Urdu and Hindi-speaking audiences—without losing the spiritual intensity or lyrical complexity of the original.
A child prodigy and heir to a respected Qawwali lineage, Rais Anis Sabri is celebrated for his emotionally charged performances rooted in the Chishti Rang tradition. Produced by Khaja Khateeb with music by Jaspal Moni, the track is more than just a song — it’s a cultural bridge between the past and present, between language and longing.
In an exclusive conversation, Rais Anis Sabri opens up about the track, his musical journey, the future of Qawwali, and lots more.
Excerpts:
Jahan Kal Raat Ko Hum The is an Urdu interpretation of Amir Khusro’s Nami Danam. What inspired you to bring this 13th-century Persian masterpiece into today’s world?
Nami Danam by Hazrat Amir Khusro is a beautiful Persian piece, and to make this verse reach universal audience, it had to be reintroduced in a language that can be comprehended by all. When Sulaiman Khateeb translated it into Urdu, making it accessible to a wider audience, they sought a singer who could sing it soulfully, and I was honored to be chosen. I personally have a deep affection for the Persian language, and bringing this timeless work to life in Urdu felt like a natural step to ensure its legacy continues to resonate with everyone.
Translating such a profound mystical poem is a challenge. What was the most moving or difficult couplet for you to render into music?
The song itself wasn’t a challenge for me, as I’ve been performing for a long time. This song has already been sung by talented artistes like Richa Sharma and Javed Ali, and I sang the scratch version. The producer had a clear vision for an open and expansive rendition. My focus has been on channeling the profound emotion of Khusro’s words, and the process felt like a natural flow, allowing the mystical depth of the poem to unfold through the music without a specific ‘difficult’ couplet.
This track blends classical Sufi thought with contemporary soundscapes — how did you strike the balance between authenticity and accessibility?
The brilliant music composer, Jaspal Moni, played an important role in striking this balance. He crafted the track in such a way that it honors the classical Sufi thought while integrating contemporary soundscapes seamlessly. His composition made it a truly timeless piece, ensuring that the authenticity of Khusro’s original essence is preserved, yet presented in a format that is easily accessible and appealing to a modern audience. It’s a testament to his understanding of both tradition and current musical trends.
What emotions or experiences do you hope listeners will take away from this Urdu adaptation?
I hope listeners will feel a profound connection when they hear this adaptation. Hazrat Amir Khusro wrote this piece for his guru, and it beautifully encapsulates the sacred bond between a guru and their shagird (disciple). I want listeners to experience that deep spiritual devotion, the feeling of complete surrender and love. It’s about a connection that transcends the material world, and I wish for them to carry that sense of spiritual serenity and heartfelt devotion with them.
You began performing at the age of four and belong to a respected qawwal lineage. How has your family’s legacy shaped your musical journey?
Belonging to a cherished lineage of qawwals, spanning centuries, has profoundly shaped my musical journey. From my grandfather, Ustaad Zameer Ahmed Sabri, to my father, Rais Sabri, music truly runs in our blood. We have been performing for approximately 800 years, and from a very young age, I was immersed in this rich tradition. This legacy isn’t just about inheriting a skill; it’s about embodying a spiritual and artistic heritage that guides every note I sing and every performance I give.
As a child prodigy, was there ever a moment when you felt the weight of expectation—or has it always been a natural flow for you?
I wouldn’t describe it as a “weight of expectation”. Instead, I’ve always viewed it as a profound responsibility. The legacy I carry, and the art form of Qawwali itself, demand the utmost dedication and sincerity. From my early days as a performer, it has always been my endeavour to ensure that every performance is delivered with the best of my ability, honouring the tradition and connecting with the audience on a spiritual level. It’s a joyful responsibility, not a burden.
How did your time performing across India and globally influence the way you approach Qawwali today?
Performing Qawwali across 12 different countries and extensively throughout India has truly broadened my perspective. It reinforces my belief that Qawwali is an inherent Indian talent with a universal appeal. Each performance, whether in a bustling Indian city or on an international stage, has taught me the power of music to transcend cultural barriers. It has deepened my understanding of how Qawwali can touch hearts globally, while always remaining rooted in its rich Indian heritage.
In your view, what does Qawwali represent beyond being a musical form—spiritually, culturally, and socially?
Beyond its musical structure, Qawwali is a profound spiritual journey, a cultural cornerstone, and a powerful social unifier. Spiritually, it’s a direct connection to the divine, a form of meditative prayer that elevates the soul. Culturally, it’s a living heritage, preserving centuries of Sufi poetry and philosophy. Socially, it fosters a sense of community and love, bringing people from diverse backgrounds together in a shared experience of devotion and harmony. It truly embodies the message of universal love.
Traditional Chishti Rang Qawwali has deep roots. How do you see Qawwali evolving with younger generations and digital platforms?
Qawwali is a 900-year-old art form that has continually transformed. From one generation to the next, we’ve strived to evolve our performances to sync with contemporary times. We achieve this by reintroducing age-old gems like Nami Danam and carefully integrating modern musical compositions. This adaptive approach, coupled with the reach of digital platforms, allows us to keep the spirit of Qawwali alive and vibrant, ensuring it resonates with and is cherished by younger generations globally.
Many believe Qawwali is both performance and prayer. How do you navigate the space between being an artist and being a spiritual vessel?
For me, the lines between being an artist and a spiritual vessel blur during a Qawwali performance. As an artist, I ensure that I give my absolute best to every rendition, focusing on technical perfection and emotional delivery. However, when I sing Qawwali, I also feel an incredibly strong and direct connection with the divine, with Rab. This spiritual connection is what truly makes each performance soulful, allowing me to not just sing the words, but to embody their spiritual essence, which then resonates with the audience.
What role do you think Qawwali can play in bridging communities and fostering dialogue in today’s fragmented world?
Music is a universal language, and love is the very soul of every musical form. Qawwali, with its ancient roots, has always been cherished across diverse communities. It inherently promotes the ideology that love transcends all boundaries. In today’s fragmented world, Qawwali acts as a powerful bridge, uniting people through its message of harmony, devotion, and shared human experience. It fosters dialogue by celebrating our common humanity and the universal longing for peace and connection.
Do you envision experimenting with cross-genre collaborations—say, blending Qawwali with electronic, jazz, or global folk traditions—while still preserving its essence?
Absolutely. I believe in exploring new avenues while preserving the authentic essence of Qawwali. We’ve already seen beautiful fusions with songs like Halka Halka, Kali Kali Zulfon Ke, and Chaap Tilak Sab Cheeni. These collaborations demonstrate how Qawwali can blend with other genres and still retain its soul. I’m keen to continue this journey, carefully integrating elements of electronic, jazz, or global folk to introduce Qawwali to new audiences while ensuring its traditional spirit remains intact.
How do you see the future of Qawwali—will it remain rooted in the Dargah and mehfil, or will its stage continue to expand into festivals and global arenas?
I see a very promising future for Qawwali. Many people across the globe love Sufi and Qawwali music, and this growing appreciation is significant. In fact, even Bollywood is now increasingly inclining towards Qawwali, recognising its ability to establish a deep connection with the listener’s heart. It is soulful music, sung from the heart, and thus it reaches the heart. While its roots in the Dargah and mehfil will always be revered, Qawwali’s stage is undoubtedly expanding into major festivals and global arenas.
Outside of Qawwali, what inspires you in daily life—books, poetry, rituals, or even silence—that nourishes your creativity and soul?
Outside of Qawwali, I find immense inspiration in various aspects of daily life. Poetry, especially the works of Hazrat Amir Khusro, Peer Nasrudin, Suleiman Khateeb, and Rahat Indori, deeply nourishes my soul and creativity. I also enjoy cricket — it’s a great way to relax. Beyond these, simple rituals and moments of silence allow me to reflect, rejuvenate, and maintain a spiritual balance, which in turn fuels my artistic expression and connection to the divine.
