Hans Zimmer and AR Rahman: The Epic Sound of a New Ramayana

Some collaborations feel engineered. Others feel inevitable — like myth catching up with itself. And so here we are with one of those mythic collaborations finally coming true.

Hans Zimmer and A. R. Rahman scoring Nitesh Tiwar's Ramayana. Is it because the stars have finally aligned or an instance of wishful thinking, the two visionaries, two sonic architects, one from the East and the other from the West mapping a new emotional topography for a story that has lived in through oral traditions and firelight for millennia.

For anyone considering this as yet another Bollywood meets Hollywood is certainly mistaken and not familiar with the unique soundscapes the two legends bring along. The collaboration goes beyond the usual really. This is something that's far more transcendent.

A.R. Rahman is a familiar name for Indians. Almost tied to Indian modern music and etched in our aural memory, Rahman sounds intuitive, has always relied on mixing the modern sounds with the folk to create a sense of belonging and progressive newness. The music for SRK's Swades, for instance, is an instant emotional pull towards the idea of home and sense of pride at the same time.

He’s the pulse behind Roja, Bombay, Lagaan, Rockstar — each a genre-defying movement in its own right. He doesn’t follow musical traditions so much as reimagine them with a cosmic softness. Rahman is the melody in the madness, the silence between tabla beats.

On the other hand, Hans Zimmer, of course, is the cathedral-builder. His music doesn’t score scenes; it swells into them, engulfs them. From Interstellar to Gladiator to Dark Knight rises to Dune, Zimmer has become synonymous with scale. His sounds rupture silence. His chords hang heavy with questions. His style is industrial romanticism, with brass like tectonic plates and strings that feel like they’re sawing through time. If film is myth, Zimmer is its echo.

Now imagine them together — not just as composers, but ones who are about to establish the sound for years to come with a story that's deeply embossed in the Indian culture.

Ramayana is not a story, its coded into the cultural DNA of the subcontinent. Beyond the religious connotations, around gods and asurs, the tale permeates the binding of time to narrate the story of exile and love, duty and fire. The scale is cosmic, but the pain is intimate. To score it is not to embellish, but to invoke. And in this, the union of Zimmer and Rahman doesn’t just make sense — it feels like prophecy.

From the teaser of the highly anticipated film directed by Nitesh Tiwari, starring Ranbir Kapoor as Rama and Sai Pallavi as Sita, the soundtrack already hints at Zimmer and Rahman combining the storm in Ravana, the ache in Sita and the resilience of Rama in the epic song.

Together, they are about to trace Ram’s journey not just across kingdoms but across inner terrain — through loyalty, violence, tenderness, and loss. The vanaras might march to thunderous horns; the forests might hum with ambient veena and breath. And imagine Hanuman’s leap — that impossible, sky-shattering moment — could well live in the space where Zimmer’s brass collides with Rahman’s rhythm, a sonic act of devotion.

There’s something uncanny about how much this collaboration reflects the epic itself: duality, union, conflict, transcendence. The Western cinematic gaze, long seduced by scale, now sits opposite the Eastern spiritual sensibility, rooted in lyricism and surrender. What might have once felt like aesthetic opposites Zimmer’s bombast and Rahman’s subtlety begins to feel more like harmony in tension. 

It’s also political, in a quiet, defiant way. At a time when global culture is still grappling with appropriation and erasure, Ramayan scored by Rahman ensures the project is held in care. And Zimmer, a white European composer with no need to ‘colonise’ another sound enters not as a saviour, but a collaborator. It’s a balancing act, and a necessary one.

The internet, of course, is spiralling. Reddit threads are unravelling like prophecy scrolls. Fan edits and speculation loops abound. Will there be Sanskrit choirs backed by modular synths? Can we expect sonic references to Bhakti poetry? How do you even score a god?

What’s certain is that this is not about nostalgia. It’s not even about tradition. It’s about reimagining one of the oldest stories in the world through a new sonic lens; one that’s global, spiritual, cinematic, and deeply human.

Zimmer and Rahman aren’t just scoring Ramayan. They’re translating it into feeling, into frequency, into something that will live far beyond the screen.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the point.