Charu Suri’s Shayan is not just an album, it is a passageway into stillness. Known for pioneering a distinctive fusion of jazz and Indian ragas with her celebrated Book of Ragas series, Suri steps into more meditative territory with this deeply personal project. What began as an experiment with raga-based compositions has evolved into a signature style that now carries her name, and with Shayan she offers perhaps her most intimate work to date.
The album was born out of a very human experience: the desire to help her mother find peace after nights of insomnia following the loss of Suri’s father. The Sanskrit word “Shayan” means rest or deep sleep, and this intention permeates every note of the record. Rather than writing for performance or spectacle, Suri has created a collection of seven pieces designed to guide the listener inward, reconnecting body and mind with a sense of natural rhythm and balance.
From the very first track, the title piece, the album sets its tone with a quiet invitation. The music is grounded in raga Kalyani, the Eastern counterpart to the Lydian mode, and its muted piano, ethereal vocals, and gentle flute create an atmosphere that feels like stepping into twilight. This is music that doesn’t demand attention but rewards it, carrying the listener into a space where the rush of the day begins to dissolve.
The journey continues with “Mohanam Hymn,” where Grammy winner Jim “Kimo” West’s warm guitar playing weaves around Charu’s elegant piano, joined by cello, flute, and delicate vocals that feel like a prayer. “Inner Peace” is one of the album’s most emotive pieces, pairing Ravichandra Kulur’s expressive flute with Siyer’s hauntingly tender vocals, creating a sanctuary in sound. “Raga Jog” turns more inward, its shimmering dulcimer textures and resonant cello lines evoking the quiet of late-night contemplation.
“Nightingale” is the heart of the album’s lullaby quality, Jim Kimo West’s guitar gently cradling the melody while Charu’s piano floats above, delicate and soothing. “Raga Durga” glows with a sense of devotion, Haruna Fukazawa’s flute and Philip Vaiman’s violin intertwining like candlelight flickering in the dark. The album concludes with “Shayan Reprise,” a cinematic and deeply satisfying finale featuring Raniero Palm and the Venezuela String Recording Ensemble, Ron Korb’s lyrical flute, and Charu’s poised piano, closing the album like a benediction.
What makes Shayan extraordinary is its balance between tradition and innovation. Charu does not dilute the ragas or rush their natural flow; each piece is allowed to breathe, to open and bloom in its own time. Yet the arrangements are global in scope, drawing from a palette of harp, ukulele, dulcimer, cello, and multiple flutes to create a soundscape that feels both rooted and expansive. This makes the album accessible to longtime raga enthusiasts while inviting new listeners into the world of Indian classical music without intimidation.
Listening to Shayan feels like a journey through evening itself. It starts with that first moment when the light softens, moves through the introspection of nightfall, and ends with the deep exhale of sleep. It does more than accompany rest — it creates it. The album’s pacing is unhurried but never static, allowing the listener to slow down without losing engagement. It is as much about emotional restoration as it is about sonic beauty.
Charu Suri has assembled a remarkable ensemble of Grammy-winning and world-class musicians to bring this vision to life, and their contributions are never ornamental but always in service of the emotional center of the music. Together, they have made something rare: a work that is artistically rigorous and emotionally generous in equal measure.
Shayan is an album that stays with you long after the last notes have faded. It is an experience that asks you to pause, to breathe, to listen — not just to the music but to yourself. In a world that feels increasingly restless and noisy, Charu Suri has given us something priceless: a moment of stillness, offered with grace.
