Babar Mangi on the set of Coke Studio season 15.
Amna Zuberi
As a child growing up in Karachi, Pakistan, Babar Mangi never quite felt understood and would often withdraw into his shell at school. Even though he felt terribly alienated, Mangi harboured a strong desire to belong…to feel understood and seen for who he was.
An avid music buff, Mangi’s brother would often have Bollywood songs blaring from his tape recorder at home. While they weren’t really Mangi’s cup of tea, there was something about his brother’s hip hop selection (mainly Eminem and Lil Wayne) that almost immediately caught Mangi’s attention.
The beats were upbeat and even though Mangi couldn’t understand English, he loved the way the rappers would spit bars. It made him sit up and take notice. The music was infectious, powerful and Mangi innately felt that rapping was something that he could easily do.
It turned out he was right.
Not long after his love for hip hop started developing, the young artist reveals that he began rapping in Sindhi, his mother tongue, in class and infront of his family.
“They really liked it,” Mangi says. “When I started rapping, people would listen to me and I felt heard for the first time in my life. I started realizing that this was something I could seriously pursue.”
“Things began changing when I started to understand the lyrics. When I started listening to Eminem and understanding him as an artist, I would feel like he was speaking directly to me. That’s when it hit me, music is a one-to-one conversation,” Mangi explains.
For the young artist, focusing on making music that is true to oneself and that can sincerely resonate with just one listener, is the secret sauce of a memorable track.
“Music consumption is on an individual level…you have to keep that one person in mind who’s going through something that you feel deeply about too. This is the psychology I use when I write my lyrics. If one person likes what I’m singing, others will appreciate it too.”
While that’s easier said than done, Mangi says that finding an ‘identity’ as an artist is perhaps the most important realization that he’s had on his music journey.
“Finding my footing in developing my own identity took some time. There were a lot of discarded songs, tons of regret in spending time on irrelevant tracks, but that’s how I evolved. It was a complete trial and error process to look for an identity relevant to who I was and what I stood for. But when I finally discovered that I don’t have to be the next Eminem, that I just have to be me, Mangi on the mic, that’s when it all fell into place.”
Babar Mangi’s song, Sanam Sopari, hit #14 on YouTube’s trending music chart this year.
Aarab Khan
With a small photography and design business on the side – something that he spearheaded when he was in grade 7 – Mangi states that his family (particularly his father and brother) encouraged him to continue singing since he had a natural flair for it.
Having grown up in a village near Larkana (a major city in Sindh), that he’s deeply “attached” to, the artist mentions that his lyrics are heavily influenced by his memories of village life, from its customs, traditions and experiences during his childhood.
Standing as one of the few – if not the only artist who performs Sindhi rap in the local music scene – Mangi has begun to unabashedly make his niche genre mainstream. Take this year for instance. Released in July, his hit song, Sanam Sopari, in collaboration with artists, Sahiban and Muhammad Masood, made it to #14 on YouTube’s trending music chart with a staggering 1.4 million views.
“The biggest challenge was explaining to people that Sindhi rap is indeed music,” he states, reminiscing about the initial years of his career in music. “They would say this isn’t music and that it was ‘foreign music.’ I’d then argue that everything they use in their daily lives is foreign, from technology and social media, it’s all ‘foreign!’ It was quite funny actually.”
Speaking about Sanam Sopari, which he states is a tribute to a woman’s “unheard emotions,” Mangi believes that audiences connected with the song because it showcased the reality of what women truly want: attention from the ones they love.
A still from the song, Nim Ji Chaon.
Imran Baloch, Rahul Aijaz and Aarab Khan
“The song worked because the truth can never be hidden. If you’re speaking the truth in your music, no matter how you convey it, it’ll resonate with people. As an artist you have a responsibility to communicate truths for those who don’t have a voice – women and men, both. Sanam Sopari was very personal for me because I always used to observe how my mother raised my siblings and I, including the love she has given my father over the years.”
Currently working a number of songs that he hopes will further develop his signature brand of Sindhi hip hop, Mangi states that he’s also focused on bringing to light subjects which people don’t openly talk about.
“Young artists in Pakistan are very self-aware, which is why they’re more open to sing about what they’re feeling and experiencing. But you have to find the right balance between what you want to say and what audiences want to hear. It takes time,” he says. “You have to think about your work objectively and ask yourself why you’re doing what you’re doing. At the end of the day it’s all about your purpose and your own personal truth.”
