Why Kolkata is singing together again

Walk into a room full of strangers and within minutes, something shifts. Voices overlap, hesitation dissolves, and what begins as a group of individuals turns into a chorus. At The Strangers' Choir held at The Urban Theatre Project, hosted by Medha Sahi , the music is almost incidental , what truly builds is connection. No introductions, no pressure, just people showing up and finding common ground through song. From structured pop-up choir to open-air musical mornings, Kolkata is quietly witnessing a surge in community singing formats , spaces where you don’t need to know anyone to belong. For Medha Sahi, singer, music educator, and the force behind travelling The Strangers' Choir across cities, who brought the format to Kolkata this month, the idea was simple but intentional: “I desperately wanted to be in a room full of singers… and I knew if I convinced enough people that they could sing, they would.” What followed surprised even her. “The reception has been mind-blowing… it’s the reactions , this pure joy, this amazement,” she says, adding that the format works because barriers dissolve quickly: “There is so little awkwardness… the kind of people who come already have open minds and open hearts… you have to talk to someone new… and with strangers, you feel freer in that anonymity.” For many, it’s about stepping out of routine. “It’s something out of my comfort zone… something new to try,” says Pranay Baib, a student, adding, “It’s nice to have like-minded people… if I see them again, I’d definitely say hi.” And for those who return, the draw is simple: “I’m not that great at singing… but when you come here, you don’t feel out of place. Everyone just gets included,” says Dominic Joseph, intern and former participant. If music is the hook, emotional release is the payoff. “People are done with lounges… this is where we can actually release ourselves,” says Samir Modi, merchandiser and stylist, adding, “I had goosebumps throughout… we don’t know anyone, but we come together and make those three hours count.” That sense of immersion cuts across formats. “People just get immersed… those two hours are theirs,” says Sangeeta Saraf, singer, who hosts baithak-style sessions, adding, “They listen, they sing along… and feel absolutely rejuvenated.” For many, it’s also about finding a rhythm of return. “You come once, and then you want to keep coming back… it becomes something you look forward to,” says Jaimin Rajani, singer. In Kolkata, that consistency has already taken root. “We meet almost every Sunday morning… if the weather turns, we move into someone’s home,” says Dr Kallol Banerjee, adding, “What started with strangers has slowly become a community.” At times, the experience turns deeply emotional-“I’ve seen people with tears in their eyes while singing… not out of sorrow, just something they couldn’t explain.” What emerges is clear: these aren’t performances, but shared, low-pressure experiences that feel increasingly necessary.