Zakir Bhai’s tabla playing was not just about technique; it was a language that spoke directly to the soul. His rhythms were like the heartbeat of the universe, full of life and depth. He was a genius, but what made him truly exceptional was the way he brought his music to life. He gave the tabla a new voice, a new energy, and a new meaning. He bridged the gap between East and West, reaching out to the world with his collaborations with musicians across the globe. He did more than just play the tabla; he connected people through his music. And that, to me, was his true brilliance.

Zakir Bhai was not just a musician; he was an institution in himself. He was a gharana, but he didn’t just belong to any one tradition — he became the face of tabla, not only in India but across the world. Thousands of young tabla players looked up to him. They saw in him not just a teacher, but a path, a way forward. The influence he had on the world of tabla is immeasurable. He inspired so many, gave so much, and yet remained humble, never seeking recognition for himself, but always willing to share his wisdom and his craft with others.

I have had the great honour of performing with him on numerous occasions, and each time was a magical experience. We played together in places as far as America and Europe, and in every concert, there was something special — something unforgettable. People came to see us perform, but what they experienced was something that went beyond music. It was the energy between us, the connection, the spirit that we created together on stage. I remember our first concert together in 1974, at St Xavier’s College in Mumbai, for the Indian Music Group. It was the beginning of a journey that would last for decades, and every concert with him felt like a celebration of life and music.

Zakir Bhai’s kindness was not limited to the stage. It was part of who he was, part of his very soul. He was always there to help, to guide, to encourage others. I saw him support musicians, both young and old, with an open heart. I remember one incident that truly defined his character. We were travelling together in the late 1970s, and we were on a flight bound for Chennai when a short circuit caused a fire. The passengers were asked to evacuate, and in the midst of the chaos, I realised I had left my sarod in the overhead compartment. In those days, I always carried my sarod as hand luggage, and the thought of losing it was unbearable. But without a second thought, Zakir Bhai rushed back into the plane, amidst the smoke and confusion, and brought my sarod to safety. His selflessness, his concern for me in that moment of panic, was something I could never adequately thank him for. It was a small act, but it spoke volumes about the kind of man he was — a man whose compassion knew no bounds.

Zakir Bhai’s devotion to music was unmatched, but it was his character, his humility, and his grace that made him a truly extraordinary human being. He never lost sight of the values that made him who he was. Despite being a global star, he always respected his elders, and he was deeply rooted in the tradition that shaped him. I have seen him bow down in reverence to legends like Pandit Kishan Maharaj and Pandit Samta Prasad, paying homage to the giants who came before him. His respect for others, regardless of their stature, was remarkable. And the younger generation looked to him as a guide, a mentor, someone who led by example.

He was a beacon of hope and support for young musicians. He was never too busy or too important to offer a helping hand to those who needed it. He gave his time, his wisdom, his encouragement, and his love to anyone who sought it. His legacy is not just in his music, but in the countless lives he touched, the countless musicians he mentored, and the countless hearts he warmed with his presence.

Zakir Bhai’s rhythm was divine, almost like a metronome, but it was more than just precision. It was the soul of the tabla, the heartbeat of the universe, echoing through every stroke of the tabla. And today, as I think of him, I am filled with both sorrow and gratitude. Sorrow because we have lost a true legend, and gratitude because his music, his teachings, and his example will continue to live on, inspiring generations to come.

I had the privilege of playing with him until as recently as 2022, when we performed together in Delhi at Siri Fort. That final concert remains etched in my heart. It was a beautiful evening, but also one that filled me with a deep sense of loss, knowing that this would be the last time we shared the stage.

Zakir Bhai was not just a musician; he was a man of great integrity, kindness, and compassion. He was a loving son, a devoted brother, a caring father, and a beloved friend. His family — his wife, his daughters, and his brothers Taufeeq and Fazal — were always his priority. He looked after them with love and care, just as he cared for all those who were fortunate enough to know him.

I received the news of his passing while I was in Kolkata for a concert, and I could not believe it. It was as if the earth had shifted beneath me. The world has lost a great soul, and I have lost a dear friend, a musical partner, and a true inspiration. But Zakir Bhai will always live on in our hearts and minds. His tabla, his rhythm, his spirit, and his kindness will continue to guide us, long after he is gone.

May his soul rest in peace. Allah Jannat Bakshey. You will be deeply missed, Zakir Bhai. You will always be in my heart.