An anecdote about Amaan and Ayaan Ali Khan’s childhood provides a telling glimpse into the way music is entwined with their lives. “Our mother told us that when we were born, our father (sarod maestro Ustad Amjad Ali Khan) sang in our ears. In essence, that’s the day our training started,” says Ayaan.

For the brothers, born two years apart, it seemed like every brick in their house was steeped in music. “Children are like water; they take the shape of the vessel,” muses Amaan. “We took to music as naturally as a bird takes to flying, as it was in the very atmosphere. Our father’s students would be coming and going at all times; there would be people telling us, ‘We’ve heard your grandfather and father play, now you must play too’… So for us, the standard was set before we had even ventured out.”
The journey — from the time they both debuted at the age of eight, to now, when they have several successful albums and the youth icon tag firmly in their kitty — has been a gradual one, and the brothers say their first steps were guided by their father’s lessons in tehzeeb and tameez. “It was the first mantra taught by our father, who was also our guru,” says Amaan. “We were taught to be good human beings and exemplify etiquette and good manners. Abba (as we call our father) is a complete disciplinarian. But we’re proud to say that we have contributed to his elegant silver hair!”
Their father, who was the subject of a book the brothers penned back in 2002, is the object of much reverence. “In spite of being a monumental icon of the music world, Abba continues to be full of humility. In recent times, we often question his imparting the value of being humble to us, especially in this age where people tend to walk all over you. But Abba is man of his principles,” Amaan adds.
The dual relationship of father and guru did not create too much conflict, say Ayaan and Amaan. “Yes, it did take us time to draw the line as to when he was (being) a father, and when a guru, but realisation dawned as we grew older and now we feel ecstatic at the thought that our guru is our father,” says Ayaan.
Apart from the paternal relationship, music influenced the brothers’ relationship as well — and set them apart, says Ayaan: “Music was like food, water; as normal or as important a thing. We were taught singing at first, with great emphasis on understanding every note. Gradually we moved to playing the sarod. We were already performing (from an early age) and in school, there were not many teachers who understood where we were coming from. The expectation, the pressure, the journey had started early for us. It was quite a struggle. We were very lucky to be in the same field so our brotherly fistfights were transcended in the music room!”
Although they learnt music from the same guru and perform together, music commentators note that the brothers have different playing styles, something they attribute to being granted creative freedom. That creative viewpoint is on fine display in their latest album, Rang. Six months in the making, it amalgamates the sarod with the tradition of the Qawwali, and is Ayaan and Amaan’s tribute to “the great Sufis: Amir Khusro and Nizammudin Auliya”.
Amaan points out, “Qawwali is a very live, high-energy form and to confine it in the studio would be akin to confining a tiger. But the album required us to work in a studio. We also had to come two scales higher than our regular scale on the sarod. We are very grateful to Sultan Niyazi and his team of qawwals who moved out of their comfort zone and helped us reach a meeting point.”
Rang, featuring the brothers’ interpretations of the timeless songs of Khusro, signals another milestone in their musical journey, quite distinct from their previous albums Reincarnation and Mystic Dunes. “Music is pretty much who you are or what your state of mind is at that point of time,” says Ayaan. “For us, every album had its own journey.”