PUBLISHED
March 15, 2026
TURBAT:
In the southwestern part of the province of Balochistan, Iies Makran, where the Arabian Sea meets the majestic mountains, and the sea breeze, gulls and birds seem to sing songs of longing, sorrow and affection. The melodies rise softly, fleshing out memories of yore.
Since Makran is not a single district but a division made up of three main districts — Kech (Turbat), Gwadar, and Panjgur — hence the music of this region cannot be traced to just one locality. Instead, it is a rich blend of musical traditions from across the region, shaped by the shared cultural rhythms and influences of these districts. Over time, the sounds and styles of each area have blended into what is now recognised as the distinctive music of Makran, which reflects centuries of interaction across the Arabian Sea, blending regional Baloch styles with African and Arab influences.
Set against a rich fusion of musical cultures from the Middle East, the Indo-Pak subcontinent, and Africa, the traditional music of Makran has evolved over centuries into a form marked by remarkable depth and beauty. These compositions, featuring both vocal and instrumental pieces that showcase exceptional musicianship and improvisational skill, are designed to create the conditions for a trance-like state.
Listening to it requires patience and openness, inviting the audience to adopt a different way of hearing. Those who do so, however, will find the experience deeply rewarding. For the people of Makran, music is a soothing presence in everyday life. Whether one is joyful or troubled, weary of the world or longing for someone, cherishing happy memories or grieving a loss, it is music that comforts the soul. It offers solace to hearts that find peace in melodies for which words often fall short.
For generations, the people of Balochistan have expressed both their joy and their sorrow through song, but for many, music is not merely a profession — it is a means of survival. Yet the art of singing, despite its cultural richness, is accompanied by quiet struggles amidst the challenges of limited resources, little formal training, and a lack of institutional and governmental support.
Many determined singers continue to create and carry forward their traditions with deep devotion and love. In the region, music often becomes a quiet form of resistance against neglect — a language of affection and belonging. Despite the lack of facilities, these devoted artists persist in keeping Baloch music alive: recording songs in dimly lit rooms, performing at community gatherings, and breathing life into centuries-old poetry.
Zemar (a Balochi word for music) is enriched by several traditional instruments such as suroz, tamburag, banjo, chang, rabab, and kuzag, which produce melodious sounds when played. Siraj, an avid listener of Baloch music talks about the magic these indigenous instruments create in the hands of his favourite musicians. “Rasool Baksh Fareed is a master of many of these musical instruments. Particularly, he plays the banjo so beautifully that a person wishes to listen to him all the time,” says Siraj. Whenever one listens to the sound of an instrument they love, it brings peace to the soul and fills the heart with joy. “When I listen to Noor Khan Bezanjo’s old songs, I pay close attention to how Rasool Baksh plays the banjo, which further enhances the melody.”
Kaleem Baloch, a young singer, names several other local instruments used by Balochi folk artists, including donali, naal, dholak, thamborag, and harmonium in Balochi bajo. “Sipat is a musical form sung by Baloch women for seven consecutive nights at the birth of a child, while Nazenk is another form of folk music performed at Balochi weddings as songs of praise for the bride or groom,” he says, adding that Sipat is also used to celebrate beauty and bravery.
Zahirok (also spelled Zaheerok or Zayirak) is a traditional Balochi musical form that is also considered Balochi classical music. It is a genre of melancholic song expressing longing, separation, and love. It is traditionally sung by women or to the accompaniment of the suroz (a bowed instrument). While sometimes used interchangeably in casual discourse, Zaheerag is often described as the broader, fundamental musical structure or “soul” upon which all traditional Balochi music is based.
Many Balochi music scholars believe that the entire, broader Balochi musical framework is rooted in the zaheerag pattern, of which zahirok is a key component. Both represent the deep emotional, vocal-centric, and melancholic nature of traditional Baloch culture, often originating from themes of separation from loved ones.
Baloch musicians have varying lifestyles. Many pursue music out of passion while working in other professions. Kaleem is a student by profession, Arif Balochi is a teacher, and Naeem Dilpul serves as a civil servant. Despite their different careers, all of them share a deep love for singing Balochi songs and contributing to the preservation of Baloch music and culture. Many have found music to be a cathartic expression since childhood.
Bhawal Fazuli, a young and popular singer from Tump in Kech District, performs at numerous concerts, winning the hearts of his audiences with his soothing voice.
“My journey in music began in my childhood,” he shares. “My uncle used to sing, and through him I first discovered the beauty of music. The more I listened to music, the more my interest in it grew.”
“I used to hum the songs of old Balochi poets long before I understood their meaning,” says Bhawal. “Music came before understanding — it is simply a feeling and a form of devotion for me.”
For Bhawal, Ustad Khurshid Baloch is not only an inspiration but also a guiding figure for many emerging and established Baloch singers, from whom they learn the very foundations of their craft. Among those influenced by this legacy are artists such as Wahab Baloch and the late Nabeel Qadir.
Baloch music is filled with soothing melodies, and the songs sung by its artists often take listeners back to their old memories. Many Baloch singers craft their songs from the classical poetry of Balochistan — verses that speak of love, revenge, exile, and the motherland. “Every word I sing comes from our motherland,” shares Bhawal. “Our poets have written about love, loss, and the long wait for peace, progress and stability in our lives. I merely give their words a melody.”
Bhawal’s choice of songs sets him apart from many other singers and he is admired for his ability to select and rhyme beautiful pieces. Out of all his songs, “Rang-o-Rola” [colour and sunset] is his best-known and his personal favourite as well. “I am truly grateful and indebted to my listeners, who always encourage not only me but all regional singers and support us in creating better music for listeners of Baloch music.”
A few hours away in Gwadar, a young dedicated singer, Diljan Baloch, sits with a page that has song lyrics written on it. He has carefully written them out so that he can sing a song by Noor Khan Bizanjo — a revered name in Balochi literature, known for his rare, melodious voice. “The poet must have written these beautiful words in solitude,” says Diljan. “But when I sing his words, they become shared and common. The song turns loneliness into something we can share and love.”
“I have always been inspired by Ustad Noor Khan,” he adds. “I have listened to his songs countless times — and I still return to his melodies because these inspired me to even think about taking up singing in the first place.”
Diljan has never had a formal teacher to guide him through the basics of music. “My cousin who also sings encouraged me to sing,” he says. “A neighbour who liked my voice bought me a harmonium, and that is how I started practicing. Now, my cousin and I are invited to perform at public gatherings and local events.”
Diljan and many other young singers like him who are trying to learn, grow, and refine their craft, dream about learning music and recording in modern, well-equipped recording studios. There are just a few proper studios that are equipped with soundproof rooms, and very few trained technicians. How do they manage to record songs under such conditions? “Sometimes the sound is imperfect — but the song comes out of our heart and soul,” says Bhawal with a smile.
Singers and musicians face countless challenges in Balochistan, explains Bhawal. “In my native area of Mand, in Kech, there are no proper institutions where young people can learn the basics of music or develop the skills needed to create beautiful melodies,” he says, adding that singing requires practice, time, and proper guidance — all of which many Baloch artists are deprived of.
“Our society celebrates singers at weddings and cultural festivals, yet government support is completely absent,” says a female student from the English Literature Department at the University of Turbat, who requested anonymity. “Why can’t any of these institutions set up a music department?” she asks, pointing toward the university building. “We are taught law, economics, political science and chemistry — but not art and music, which make the soul of a society.”
Several universities in the country have dedicated music departments where the fundamentals of music are formally taught, but in Balochistan, despite lots of local talent, no such institution exists—no university provides young people or aspiring singers with a place to learn the basics of music. Many eventually give up on their dream of becoming performers, discouraged by the lack of platforms and government support. In a region where music thrives, art still struggles to gain the recognition it deserves.
“The younger generation doesn’t want to imitate,” Bahad Baloch explains. “We want to evolve. But to evolve, we need formal education in music.”
“It is time, people value music seriously as it is a talent, an art form and a skill that is gifted and learnt as well,” Bahad adds. “Many of us perform at events and celebrations because we like to sing or play an instrument, but we hardly get any remuneration for it.”
These young Baloch singers and musicians feel that a day might come when their music will fall silent as there will be no one to carry the tradition of Baloch music forward. “Preserving this music requires more than passion,” says Bahad. “It requires policies, plans and projects. If the government supported us with even a small cultural grant or an academy, we could train the youth. Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. It has the power to bring the people together. With some help and support from the government, our music could travel far — beyond Makran, beyond Balochistan.”
The writer is a lawyer based in Turbat, Balochistan. He tweets @MunajGul, and can be reached at munaj1baloch@gmail.com