There is something about a song that refuses to disappear. Long after the singer is gone, the instrument retired, the stage dismantled — a melody hangs around. It travels in the throats of grandchildren. It hides in the corners of old homes. It waits.

This week, we went looking for the people who are listening.

A pair of sisters carrying music into Mumbai's bastis on a bus. A family in Delhi keeping a tabla legend's rhythm alive in the very house he built. A village in Kerala whose songs are older than most countries. And a festival in Bengaluru that decided beats and biodiversity belong on the same stage.

Four stories. One simple idea — that the future has a soundtrack, and we get to choose what's on it.

The bus that pulls up with a music class inside

Twelve-year-old Naresh doesn't always feel like going to school. But on the days he does, there's a 45-minute reason waiting for him: music class. In Mumbai, sisters Kamakshi and Vishala........

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