Professor Paramjeet Singh, a classical music scholar and educator trained in Indian classical vocal music and Sikh philosophy, explains that Sikh gurbani (hymns of the Guru Granth Sahib) are intentionally composed within specific raags—melodic frameworks rooted in a 2,300-year-old tradition—because music was historically understood as a tool for spiritual salvation, not entertainment. The Guru Granth Sahib contains 31 primary raags and 30–31 mixed raags, organized by time of day, and all raag structures rest on a 22-microtone scale that mirrors universal rhythms. This integration reveals a deliberate musical technology embedded in Sikh spirituality: singing gurbani in raag is a disciplined practice to attain mukti (liberation) and union with the divine.
In Sikhism, singing is not a cultural embellishment but a spiritual methodology. While many Eastern religions historically discouraged singing, Sikh philosophy embraced it deliberately. The reason lies in music's original purpose: salvation. According to Professor Singh, Indian classical music emerged over 2,300 years ago with a single target—moksha or spiritual liberation—rather than entertainment or aesthetic pleasure. The Sikh Gurus, particularly Guru Arjan Dev Ji in the early 17th century, recognized that music possessed a universal language capable of touching both mind and spirit. By composing gurbani in raag, the Gurus created a path where devotional words were inseparable from their musical vehicles. As Singh explains, "music is a wonderful tool to get in touch, to concentrate and talk with the nature."
This philosophy rests on a fundamental premise: the human being is not isolated from cosmic order. The universe operates on rhythm—planets orbit, hearts beat, even speech and eating contain rhythm. Music, then, is not an external decoration applied to spiritual text; it is recognition of an inherent natural law. By singing gurbani in prescribed raags, the devotee aligns their voice and consciousness with the underlying rhythmic patterns of existence itself.
Raag (also spelled rag) is difficult to translate into English because it is both a technical system and a spiritual principle. At its foundation, raag is a grouping of particular notes that can provide spiritual realization. In the Indian classical system, each raag has a prescribed character, emotional tone (rasa), and optimal time for performance. Singh emphasizes that this is not arbitrary: there is a strong temporal discipline embedded in raag theory.
The 24-hour day is divided into eight segments of three hours each—morning, afternoon, late afternoon, early evening, late evening, midnight, early morning, and another segment. Each segment has particular raags prescribed to it. This means that when you sing a specific raag at a specific time, you are harmonizing not just your voice, but your spiritual intention with the natural energies of that moment. Singh notes that the Guru Granth Sahib contains 31 primary (mukhraks) raags, and an additional 30–31 mixed raags—combinations of the primary raags that serve specialized purposes.
When Guru Arjan Dev Ji compiled the Guru Granth Sahib in 1604, "Gurusayab gave all the discipline of ragas" to the scriptural hymns. This was not a musical fashion choice; it was a deliberate spiritual technology. Each hymn was matched to a raag whose inherent properties would support the devotee's meditative journey toward unity with God.
The answer is elegant and direct: raag and spiritual philosophy share the same target—salvation and liberation (mukti). The Gurus understood that gurbani already contained the philosophy and worldview necessary for spiritual transformation. But philosophy alone can remain abstract, intellectual, stuck in the mind. Music, especially raag-based singing, transforms philosophy into embodied experience. It moves the teaching from idea to felt reality.
Singh articulates this: "the music when origin of music was they said the cause is only for salvation…and then guru ji compiled over the with the ragas. Due to that the rag was having his same target i see for the human beings so gurbani there's a philosophy the same thing but music is a wonderful tool."
The Sikh path to union with the divine (the goal referenced by the Punjabi word mukti, liberation) required all of a person—heart, mind, body, and spirit. Kirtan (devotional singing) accomplishes this by engaging the voice, ear, rhythm, and emotional resonance simultaneously. A person cannot sing gurbani in proper raag while remaining detached or mechanical. The very discipline of maintaining the raag—the correct notes, the proper timing, the alignment with cosmic rhythms—becomes the meditation itself.
Indian classical music is grounded in a precise acoustic science that predates Western music theory by centuries. The foundational scale is based on 22 microtones—divisions of the octave far more refined than the 12-semitone system in Western music. These 22 microtones include seven original notes (swaras), four "soft" or flat variations, one sharp variation, and additional intermediate tones that allow for subtle pitch variations called meend (sliding) and gamak (ornamentation).
According to Singh, every sound in the universe—whether it is speech, wind, or birdsong—can be analyzed and understood through this 22-microtone system. This is not metaphorical; it is a scientific observation rooted in acoustic physics. The universe itself, in its infinite variety of sound, operates within this microtonal framework. When a singer learns raag using the 22-microtone scale, they are learning to perceive and produce the same acoustic relationships that structure all natural sound.
The tanpura (or tampura), a stringed drone instrument, is considered the "true instrument" of Indian classical music for this reason. It provides a reference note that allows singers to analyze their voice and pitch with perfect accuracy. Unlike instruments such as the harmonium or accordion—which can prop up imprecise singing with their own sound—the tanpura demands genuine technical skill. A singer working with the tanpura cannot hide; they must learn to sing the correct microtones with intention and awareness. This is why Singh emphasizes that "if you are having help from the other instruments like accordion or harmonium right you can get support from them but you are not doing originally proper singing."
Professor Singh's own background illustrates this integration. Born into a musical family in Patella (likely Patiala, a city famous for its musical tradition), Singh's father was a traditional classical gurbani singer. His education spanned both formal music study from sixth grade through post-graduation in Indian classical music vocal from Patiala University, and advanced philosophical study—a master's degree in Indian classical vocal philosophy from Delhi University. This combination of technical and philosophical training is deliberate in the Sikh educational tradition.
Singh later taught post-graduation classes at Gurmukh College (Patiala) from 1990 to 1996, then spent nearly 15 years traveling globally as a volunteer teacher, sharing this knowledge with "excellent people from everywhere." His pedagogy reflects a conviction that Sikh musicology cannot be reduced to either pure technique or pure philosophy; it requires understanding the entire ecosystem—history, theology, acoustics, and practice.
The historical evidence for raag runs deep. Written records of Indian classical raag appear as early as the third century in texts like the "Shakhtar" (or similar Sanskrit grantha) attributed to Bharat Muni. This means raag was already systematized and documented over 1,700 years before the Sikh Gurus. The Gurus did not invent raag; they recognized it as a proven system and harnessed it for their own spiritual mission.
Singh underscores a principle that bridges science, philosophy, and spirituality: all sounds in existence arise from natural production, not human invention. When he says "all the sounds they just the production of the nature," he is drawing a distinction between the raw acoustic phenomena that nature generates and the human choice to organize those phenomena into musical systems.
The 22-microtone scale is discovered, not invented. Every sound produced by wind, strings, voice, or any vibrating medium naturally falls somewhere within this microtonal spectrum. By learning to sing raag, a devotee becomes literate in the language of nature itself. The teaching implicit in this is profound: when you sing gurbani in raag, you are not imposing human artifice onto sacred words. You are speaking the universal language that nature itself uses.
This has direct spiritual implication. If the universe operates in rhythm, and if all sounds conform to the 22-microtone scale, then to sing in raag is to place oneself in conscious alignment with cosmic order. The practice is not escapism or fantasy; it is attunement to reality as it actually is.
This introduction to Sikh musicology is intentionally foundational. As Singh notes at the conclusion of this segment, "we're still water skiing right now because we haven't gone deep into the surface below the surface about the musicology." Deeper inquiry would require investigation into specific raags within the Guru Granth Sahib—their properties, their prescribed times, and the spiritual states they are said to cultivate. It would also require hands-on exposure to the tanpura and vocal training in proper microtone production.
For readers drawn to this material, the next steps are practical: listen to recordings of gurbani sung in traditional raag format; seek out instruction in Sikh kirtan or Indian classical vocal technique; explore the Guru Granth Sahib's musical annotations to see how the Gurus organized the hymns. The integration of music and spirituality in Sikhism is not a belief system to be intellectually assented to—it is a living practice to be embodied through singing, listening, and alignment with natural rhythm.
