It would be naïve of us to pretend that the fault lines between India and Pakistan did not exist or were any less deep back in 2004. But there were still moments when we were able to find a meeting ground, a convergence between our shared roots and cultures. Strings is a reminder of those times.

Taylor Swift is the modern queen of yearning, offering up a folk fantasy for a new generation in “evermore”. Who better to come forward as the voice of 2020, a year that we have all lived in the subjunctive tense, thinking of what might have been?

The ultimate DISS is here. Doordarshan Vs Netflix | Rap Battle ft. Chote Miyan & Deeptanshu Mokashi. Drop your comments on who is winning the Rap Battle!

Sahir Ludhianvi and Amrita Pritam’s tale encompassed euphoria, misery, and everything in between. Yet, when the vagaries of life drew them apart, they chose to craft an alternative reality with another – a love that is liberating. When I first fell in love with a girl, a love that I knew would go nowhere, it was Sahir’s words that I turned to.

If there were to be a physical manifestation of what “being timeless” looks like, Mohammed Rafi would be it. “Tribute to Mohammed Rafi” is a permanent fixture in most taxis in Mumbai and you’ll find his famous classics on the playlist of a backpacking hipster in Himachal.

Lata Mangeshkar’s voice defined my grandmother’s youth. I belong to a generation that often rejects new Hindi film chartbusters in favour of indie and international music. Yet, after the last shot is downed and the last EDM track played, it is Tai’s tender “Lag Jaa Gale” that can still make a millennial emotional at four in the morning.

For many, the announcement of Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductees U2’s first- ever concert in India is the end of a long wait. But what’s also true is that U2’s maiden Indian appearance is coming around 15 years too late.

Michael Jackson would have celebrated his 62nd birthday had it not been for his surprise death 10 years ago. The sexual assault allegations against him have made conversations about him today as relevant as they were 30 years ago. We might stop listening to his music, but can we stop talking about him?

I began my first job as a presenter for Yuva Bharati, the AIR’s “youthful” section, in the late ’90s. The studios were nothing like the zany spaces of Tumhari Sullu but more like retro bunkers from a sci-fi movie set. And there were massive BBC books that guided us on how to pronounce Beethoven and Tchaikovsky.

Surely I’m not alone in feeling like playing a musical instrument is some kind of unsolvable equation, and anyone gifted enough to play them a problem-solving warlock. Not for want of trying, I failed to learn the guitar, bass, and drums – basically every instrument there is in a functioning rock band

In a Tamil Brahmin household, mornings aren’t complete without the holy trinity of filter coffee, The Hindu, and MS Subbulakshmi’s “Suprabhatam”.

I grew up on my mother’s radio-ordained playlist of Lata Mangeshkar and Mohd Rafi. But as a teenager, when every girl in school fawned over the Jonas Brothers and Taylor Swift, I, too embarrassed to ask my classmates the names of the songs they were singing, turned to Google. It eventually dawned on me: I didn’t care about fitting in.

No matter what your mood, there’s a Bappi Da composition to go with it. Our desi disco legend is absolutely irreplaceable. Today is his birthday and I don’t know about you, but I’ll be dancing – unironically – to “Koi yahan aha nache nache”.

Dushyant Kumar’s poetry freed me from the cage of square cubicles and straight lives that the Gulzar School of poetry, dripping with flowery dew and the warmth of unreality, never could. My struggles were personal, and so it turned out was the language of my resistance, learned through his poetry, so irregular and unlike anything you’d have come across.

In every Indian gathering of intoxicated people, someone has to play “Summer of ’69”. I’ll bet you my Aadhaar number that there’ll come a point when everyone is triumphantly screaming, “Those were the BEST DAYS of my life!” That's the magic of #BryanAdams.

As Global Temperatures Continue To Rise, The Intensifying Heat Will Cause A Mass Worldwide Extinction By 2080. Who Will Save Humanity From The Price Of Its Own Progress? It's Past The Time To Be Alarmed -- Now Is The Time To Take Action. #WorldEnvironmentDay

Being Parsi is what Freddie Mercury did best. His entire existence is the embodiment of the quintessential Parsi doctrine of “khavanu, pivanu, majja ni life!”

Kya Richa Chadha #UssTypeKiLadki hai? What do you think? Don't miss her stand-up act at the Arre Siren Festival tomorrow.

Raja Kumari has no time for the haters and is never going to stop making music.

Badmash, pagal, jhalli, bawli, Padaku, ladaku, bhukkad, piyakkad... Meet the #UssTypeKiLadki at the #ArreSiren festival

Sumukhi Suresh has us in splits as she takes our # UssTypeKiLadki Quiz, just for kicks. She always knew she was one :)

It's been a year of women and what better way to celebrate them than Arre Siren. Raghu Ram is going to be there, what about you?

We chat up with Nirali Kartik of Maati Baani about what makes her an #UssTypeKiLadki!

We kick off the #ArreSiren Interviews with our festival curator, the inimitable Zila Khan. Find out if she's an #UssTypeKiLadki or not!

A 2-day music & comedy festival, Arré Siren features the first-ever all-woman line-up. Blasphemous things will be said, unladylike jokes will be cracked, and songs of cheer will ring out loud.

Catch Zila Khan live in Mumbai at the Arré Siren Festival on March 10 & 11.

Catch Maati Baani live in Mumbai at the Arré Siren Festival on March 10 & 11.

Catch Urooj Ashfaq live in Mumbai at the Arré Siren Festival on the 10th & 11th of March. Get your ticket, grab a beer and cheer!

Catch Sumukhi Suresh live in Mumbai at the Arré Siren Festival on the 10th & 11th of March. Life is difficult but tickets are available!

Catch Kaneez Surka live in Mumbai at the Arre Siren Festival on March 10 & 11. You want to get down there to celebrate women!