Sur Aur Taal Cultural Academy
FF – 114, City Square, ACE CITY, Ace City Noida Extension, Sector 1, Sector 01, Bisrakh Jalalpur, Greater Noida, Bisrakh Jalalpur, Uttar Pradesh 201301, India
Sur Aur Taal Cultural Academy sits on the second floor of a leafy colonial-era building at the corner of Roop Nagar’s music quarter in North Delhi, an address that locals simply call “guruji ka adda.” A discreet brass plate carries only the institution’s Devanagari name in the sweeping hand of late founder Pt. Giridhar Shukla; once you climb the narrow staircase fragrant with sandal dhoop, the acoustic swing door opens into a warm, teak-paneled lobby lined with decades of fading concert posters and monsoon-curled Tanjore miniatures.
The main classroom is a 300-square-foot rectangular space whose dimensions were calculated by veteran percussionist Dr. R. Venkataraman—an original trustee—so that the resonant nodes of a c-sharp tabla dayan and the lowest open string of a sitar coincide under the central chandelier. Abutting this hall are six smaller chambers: one padded like a recording booth for voice students to practise khayal meend patterns without self-consciousness; two kodapakkam-stoned floors for kathak spins; and a caged rhythm studio storing 68 tablas, 15 mridangams, and a 2014 Ludwig kit bought when the jazz elective accidentally collided with the konnakol batch. Each room connects to a corridor library whose glass cabinets hoard brittle, insect-sealed anthologies from the estate of Ustad Allauddin Khan, as well as bootleg All India Radio tapes transferred to SSD yesterday afternoon by the resident archivist, Megha.
Even without air-conditioning, temperature never drifts past 28 °C, thanks to a thick stone roof and the neighbour’s guava tree shading the western wall. Sound bleeds rarely; a knowledgeable attendant ensures doors close at only 40 dB, and the adjoining lane observes an unspoken curfew of pedal-rickshaws after 10 p.m.
Instruction bridges guru-shishya tenderness with institutional rigor. In the morning slot—7:30–11:00—vocal master Shubhangi Devi teaches raag Yaman in a circle so small her harmonium’s bellows often brush a student’s kurta pocket. Afternoons belong to ensembles: teen-age chilla graduates rehearsing Mallari on kanjira and violin, a visiting Afro-Cuban conguero trading theka with a sarangi prodigy born yesterday. Once a month, the academy hosts the all-night “Antara” baithak, shutting streetlights so candle-fed sound waves can travel uncluttered until the 4 a.m. Azaar from Nizamuddin drifts in like an accidental taan.
Fees float on a true sliding scale: railway clerks and diamond exporters sit side by side, paying according to a handwritten chart chalked daily under the banyan on the terrace. Scholarships underwrite hostel rooms for two out-of-state artists every year, a budget met largely by recycled proceeds from balding tablas auctioned on Instagram. Alumni worldwide still mail postcards—Siberian theatres, Sheffield conservatoires, and a barbecue joint in Nairobi that begins dinner service every evening with a Sur Aur Taal alaap broadcast live over Zoom.
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- Published: August 5, 2025
