Every year, as August melts into September, cities across Maharashtra prepare for the arrival of Bappa—not first with sights, but with sounds. The thundering beats of dhol-tasha, the chants of “Ganpati Bappa Morya,” and the ringing of temple bells begin to shape the season’s soundscape long before the idols are unveiled. Faith here is as much heard as it is seen, unfolding like a symphony that sweeps through neighbourhoods, temples, and streets.
In Mumbai, Pune, Nashik, and countless towns across the state, the atmosphere begins to shift weeks in advance. The festival stretches across 10 or 11 days and each moment is marked by rhythm and resonance. Practice sessions of dhol-tasha pathaks (musical groups) echo at dawn, loudspeakers hum with evening bhajans, and conch shells punctuate the air. More than just a visual spectacle of idols draped in marigolds or kitchens filled with steaming modaks, Ganesh Chaturthi reveals itself as a soundtrack—one that is both thunderous and devotional, joyous and reverent.
Few sounds capture Ganesh Chaturthi like the dhol-tasha. Played by large ensembles, these traditional percussion instruments create a charged atmosphere that reverberates through the body. As content producer Neola Dsouza puts it, “Music is the soul of Ganesh Chaturthi… it binds people together. Whether it’s kids dancing to DJ remixes, families singing aarti at home, or a pandal orchestra playing live instruments, it sets the mood and creates belonging.”
At Mumbai’s famed Lalbaugcha Raja, the evening aarti is a goosebump-inducing experience. Hundreds sing "Sukhkarta Dukhaharta" in unison, their voices rising in waves, blending into the clang of temple bells. More than a prayer, it feels like a shared musical high. “When you sing an aarti, you don’t just recite it, you live it,” Dsouza adds. “In that moment, every single person feels the same emotion, sings the same tune, with the same love.”
While tradition anchors the festival, its soundscape has never been static. In Pune, dhol-tasha troops and lezim (a folk dance and musical instrument originating from Maharashtra) players dominate processions, carrying forward a practice that has endured for generations. But the evenings bring a different beat.
Shubham Patil, a Punekar, who has witnessed the festival for decades, explains, “Mornings were once reserved for devotional music. But with time, cultural programmes and late-night celebrations have brought in pop, Bollywood remixes, and even rap. Social media has made hook lines from trending songs part of the Ganpati playlist. The concern, though, is when lyrics turn obscene in family spaces.”
The musical evolution mirrors Maharashtra itself, a blend of tradition and modernity, sacredness and revelry. From classical bhajans once recorded by Lata Mangeshkar to today’s reworked Bollywood tracks, the sounds of Ganesh Chaturthi reflect changing times while holding on to timeless devotion.
The music reaches its peak during visarjan. As idols are carried to the sea, lakes, and rivers, the streets become an orchestra of faith. Drums thunder, conch shells blow, chants of “Ganpati Bappa Morya, Pudhchya Varshi Lavkar Ya!” ring out, and bursts of firecrackers split the night sky. It is joyous and heartbreaking all at once. To witness this in Maharashtra is to feel a city’s heartbeat. The sounds travel through crowds like an electric current, leaving behind ringing ears and a full heart.
But the music of Ganesh Chaturthi has not always sounded this way. “If you look back 40 or 50 years,” says violin maestro, composer and mentor Yadnesh Raikar, “Ganeshotsav was as much a gathering as it was a celebration. Families would host classical concerts in their pandals—legends like Bhimsen Joshi, Ravi Shankar, even Zakir Hussain performed at these Mahotsavs. Over time, the soundscape expanded: first came devotional aartis, then abhangs, bhajans, and even natya sangeet. Eventually, it was the dhol-tasha that became the heartbeat of the festival, its energy and vibrations capture the spirit of Bappa like nothing else.”
In more recent years, however, Raikar notes that DJs and Bollywood remixes have taken over many processions. “The vibe has changed,” he admits, “but the tradition of classical music and dhol-tasha hasn’t vanished, it still thrives wherever people value that deeper connection.”
For some, Ganesh Chaturthi is a spectacle of colour and devotion. For others, it is deeply personal, a moment to reconnect with faith. But for all, music—whether classical, devotional, or percussive—is the thread that ties the festival together.
