Priyam Gupta Interview
Q. You describe your work as reviving Indian culture, one song at a time. What does revival mean to you in a generation that mostly consumes culture through reels?
To tell them about their culture through bite-sized content because that’s what they consume and that’s the only way to pique their interest.
Take Bollywood, for example. Our generation loves Bollywood, but what we miss are the minute cultural references that almost every song draws, from the way we eat, live, and exist.
I specifically talk about songs that are hits in pop culture but whose meanings dwell in the heart of old India. Like how “Jutti Meri” talks about the culture of Punjabi weddings in the mountains, “Chaudhary” reflects Rajasthan, and “Khalasi” draws from Gujarat. I’m here to make our culture so cool that people can’t stop talking about it.
Q. Your content often reintroduces people to songs they already know but may not have felt deeply. How do you choose which stories or melodies to bring back?
There are two ways I go about it.
Either I pick songs that are currently going viral and that everyone is constantly listening to. Or I pick songs I grew up listening to, because I know those hit nostalgia the hardest.
Q. In a fast-scrolling economy, you’ve built an audience around emotion and memory. Was this an intentional strategy or something you discovered along the way?
It was always intentional. I’m not here to play the short haul. I’m here to make our culture shine.
I want to tell you why “bajra” is used in “Bajre Da Sitta” so that on a cold winter morning, when you see bajre ki roti being served at a nearby shop, you experience its taste and find your way back home, at least in memory.
Q. Many of your reels sit at the intersection of nostalgia and relevance. How do you make sure cultural reverence doesn’t turn into cultural rigidity?
Honestly, our cultures were never rigid. They’ve always offered immense flexibility to be who we are.
Look at our fabrics and prints, from Banarasi to mulmul, from bandhani to ajrakh, there’s so much variation and freedom. Look at our dances. From Kalbeliya to Bihu, every form connects you to nature and makes you feel free. I strongly believe that if a culture feels rigid, revisit it. It’ll change the way you think about it.
Q. You’ve been featured by several news outlets. When did you realise that what started as content had become cultural commentary?
I honestly didn’t realise it.
Last year, my story on Chhath Puja went viral and several news outlets picked it up. I was overwhelmingly surprised, and that gave me the push to continue creating more stories.
Yes, that story sparked dialogue but stories need to be told again and again to keep existing. And I’m here to keep doing that as long as people keep listening.
Q. A lot of creators chase trends; your work often slows people down. Do you think the internet is secretly craving slowness again?
I’m so glad you said that.
As a country, India has always valued slowness, slowly cooking chapatis over the sigdi, slowly roasting masalas, waking up to a slow cup of chai with family.
When our entire culture revolves around appreciating slow moments, what exactly are we rushing for?
Q. You frequently spotlight lesser-noticed layers of popular songs, lyrics, ragas, context, emotion. Has your relationship with music changed since becoming a creator?
It has deepened a lot.
Today, I speak to music experts and singers just to understand the instruments used in a particular song. It’s fascinating how instruments themselves tell the story of a place.
Every state in India has its own musical instrument with unique characteristics, Kashmir has the rabab, Punjab has the nagada, Rajasthan has the kamaicha. Each one is powerful in its own way.
Q. Your page feels personal but not performative. Where do you draw the line between authenticity and overexposure?
I hate being called underrated.
I believe every piece of content I create needs to reach the right audience. Because when it does, someone sitting in a corner of India will feel proud of their culture. They’ll talk about it with someone else, and that chain will continue.
That’s enough for me.
Q. What’s one misconception people have about cultural content that you wish would disappear?
That it won’t last.
If you look around today, culture is becoming cool again, regional food restaurants are opening up, traditional instruments are being introduced in concerts, and people are embracing their roots openly.
Q. For young creators who want to talk about art, history, or culture but fear low reach, what’s the advice you wish someone had given you earlier?
Just start.
I spent a lot of time trying to figure out my niche. But once I landed here, I could never go back. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t started.
Start first. You’ll figure the rest out.
Q. If algorithms stopped mattering tomorrow, what kind of content would you make more of?
Exactly the same content I make today.
Q. If Indian culture had a comfort song for you, something you return to on difficult days, what would it be, and why?
“Jutti Meri,” without a doubt.
There’s something so innocent about that song, it instantly lifts my mood and makes me want to dance. I wish more artists made songs that remind you of home.
Bio:
Priyam Gupta is an engineer-turned-writer who creates content rooted in the folk culture of India. Having lived across different cities, her joint family kept her closely connected to the sound of morning aartis, winter meals of bajre ki roti, and her mother tongue, Haryanvi.
In a fast changing world, she hopes people hold on to their culture and hold on to the stories the internet often overlooks. Her work has been featured on platforms such as Hindustan Times, OTTplay, The Scribbled Stories, and more. Her storytelling has also been recognised by viral singer Justh, with her videos receiving appreciation from filmmakers like Anand L. Rai.
In her free time, she loves grooving to the OG Punjabi track, “Jutti Meri.”
Interviewed by: Nidhi
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