No Compromise On My Art Or My Message

TMS sits down with Aditi Veena, aka Ditty, to explore the inspirations behind her new single, 'Azadi', and her upcoming album, Kaali. In a conversation ranging from song-writing to Delhi's missing sparrows to Kashmir, Ditty's art merges music and activism in a uniquely resonant voice.

- PRACHI SATRAWAL

HEN I sing parvaton ki khamoshi ko samjhon na tum buzdilli (don't mistake the silence of mountains for weakness), I'm speaking of freedom from all kinds of oppression," says Aditi Veena, popularly known as Ditty. The Delhi-born, Berlin-based artist is a presence in the Indian indie music scene with her atmospheric soundscapes and haunting reflections on environmental crises and social justice. In India to tour with her recent single, 'Azadi', whose video was shot in the Aravalli Biodiversity Park near Delhi, the melancholic anthem calls for liberation not only for people but also for nature and all oppressed beings. The track is part of her upcoming album, Kaali.

From Delhi to Ceylon

"It's so easy to put someone in a box and say, 'Oh, they're an environmentalist; it's their problem to talk about,' and then keep working as if these issues don't affect you,' Ditty says, reflecting on her path. "But I'm just engaging with my times. I'm choosing not to always write love songs." She acknowledges the influence of artists like Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and The Carpenters in her journey. At 13, she was inspired by a senior who performed a Carpenters song for a crowd of 12,000. "I still remember her, so shy, but as she sang, it cut through the crowd. I thought, I want to do this, too."

Ditty has always dreamed of being a musician. "I dreamed of being a songwriter, but not for Bollywood. I wanted to write my own songs and sing them," she explains. Her young adult years in Delhi were marked by the loss of her father to a lung disease-a painful reminder of the city's toxic air and environmental neglect. This experience brought home the urgent realities of climate change in South Asia. "Our postcolonial reality became pretty evident," she says. "I realised our cities are under so much pressure, and I didn't want to practise mainstream architecture. It all felt so messed up."