Inside ‘Youforia’, a Hexa-Immersive Concert That Explores Spirituality In The Social Media Age 

A grueling flight, taxi, and an auto ride later, I was under the somber skies of Ahmedabad, set to attend YOUFORIA Chp. पार्थ (Parth), billed as the “world’s first hexa-immersive visual concert.” The brainchild of Gujarati composer, filmmaker, and lyricist Hrutul (who prefers to go by his first name), the patented concept amalgamates theatre, music, mythology, and technology into a ninety-minute, open-air audio-visual spectacle. With seventeen tracks performed alongside six screens (bigger than an average movie theatre) placed in the shape of a hexagon, the audience is enveloped inside the performance in full 360 degrees. 

A lockdown challenge undertaken by Patel and his team, titled “#100weeks100songs,” transformed into a larger-than-life project. Despite having no formal training in music composition or singing, Hrutul’s kalam (quill) did the talking through his songwriting. Joining him were singers Badal Soni, Tirth Thakkar, Meet Rao, and Divya Vora. The show, previously performed in Ahmedabad, is also gearing up for its upcoming edition, titled “Kaliyudh,” which is scheduled to premiere in 2026. 

As the warmth of incandescent bulbs radiated through the ground, I looked around, hoping to find a modicum of familiarity.

Everyone, from babies to senior citizens, was dressed in pristine shades of white. Though I seemed to have missed the memo on the dress code, it was meant to elevate the immersive quotient, making the colorful lights pop against the sea of white. Just as I entered, there was a noticeable shift in energy: whispers of conversations, distant echoes of children crying, and the shuffling of shoes. While people navigated their way towards their seats, my eyes fell on the water bottles and, surprisingly, bells that were placed neatly atop. Maybe it was foreshadowing what was to come.

Designed around a center stage, the seating accommodated nearly a thousand people. Six giant screens stood as silent guardians, displaying introspective fodder to calm the chaos within. The following “What-if” questions flashed on screen, catching my attention:

“What if there was an AI tool that could search anything in your mind, just like we can search anything on the internet?” one read.  “This AI would never let you forget any piece of information or memory. Would you like to remember everything?” said another. 

These subtle choices were already guiding the audience to enter an introspective flow state. And then, the lights dimmed, with the spotlight illuminating Hrutul, the protagonist and showrunner, onstage. From the get-go, it was clear that he fed off of energy. “This show is about many epiphanies, about understanding the purpose of our lives and seeking ‘Youforia,’ a feeling which changes you from the inside,” he echoed. Patel promised that each member sitting would experience that adrenaline rush, encompassing nothing and everything, by the end of the show. If someone felt particularly moved, they could ring the bell in response. I made a mental note to see if this comes true.

Then, like a manic conductor, he unleashed a series of symphonic performances, controlling the audience via rhythmic exercises meant for multisensory activation. Simultaneously, visuals representing the nine chakras of the body traversed through the six screens. Those screens were not just background characters, but active catalysts that propelled the narrative forward.  From 3D elements to mythological visualizers, everything tied back to the contemplative ethos, which rested on exploring the unexplored. Act by act, the musical chronologically touched upon pressing issues. For instance, the opening track, “Antariksh,” spotlighted the vast treasury of ancient secrets inside the universe that resided within us. With poetry merging French (Quand Tu Es Près//Je Suis Infinie (when you are close, I am infinite) and Hindi (Jab Antariksh Mein Bhi// Antar Ka Zikr Hua// Tu Dur Daraaz Ke Desho Mein// Khojta Hai Kya Tu? (when even the universe contains vast differences, what do you seek in those faraway worlds?), the cosmic track prodded listeners to gaze inward.

Likewise, Sanskrit terms, such as Mudralipi (printed writing), and phrases from ancient puranas, like Satya Tap Daaya Daan (pillars of dharma), along with internet neologisms (ex-situationships, doomscolling), were used unsparingly in multiple songs, familiarizing the audience with the distinct cadence of the Indo-European language. It was surprising to see younger individuals around me resonate with such heavy vernacular.

Parallels were drawn between Indian epics (Mahabharata, Ramayana) and the present day to address pertinent themes of socio-political disillusionment, materialistic markers of success, and even the transactional nature of relationships. The barometer of experimentation was also pushed through theatrical performances. A few notable moments were when Meghna Nihalani, a Kathak dancer, elegantly paced her chakars (turns) to the serenading melody of “Krushn aur Krishnaa.” Meanwhile,  energizers such as “Shiv– The Adiyogi” saw fusion dancers melding krumping and traditional folk steps to techno beats. Lighting played a crucial role, harmonizing with the audience’s emotions via lucid hues and timed displays. The stage and screens became a mirror, reflecting the emotional pulse of the crowd.

The audience in the beginning was a little hesitant, unsure of where their place was in this grand display. However, they found their footing: the ringing of the bells grew louder with each act, reverberating across the open-air space. A conversation was transpiring onstage, one that was reminiscent of a confessional.  

Midway through the second half, things got interesting. While Hrutul, the idealist, was in the midst of delivering a preachy monologue, a virtual archnemesis by the name of “astronaut” hijacked the show, breaking his momentum. As he frantically tried to regain the technical controls of his set, yelling at his crew to fix this mishap, it segued into the next tangent — underscoring how purpose, a man-made framework, exists merely to justify and fuel capitalist greed. Identity markers, such as a successful job, marriage, or even education, are framed as hierarchical pit stops that society conditions us to reach for to feel like we’ve “made it.”

Appearing intermittently, the astronaut did not sugarcoat. It became the voice of reason, a passionate skeptic, much like our own inner voice, that I couldn’t help but relate to. It questioned, refuted, and countered every claim laid, breaking down the utopia that Patel had carefully constructed by bringing everyone back to reality. This resulted in musical jugalbandi (battle), where both the “hero” and the “villain” tried to get their point across.

An example of the same was “Gehrai Mai Uda,” a song that highlighted how even celestial beings and demons lurk in the murky ponds of moral greyness, perpetually torn between “sarvagun” (good virtues) and “sarvanash” (chaos, devastation). Similarly, “Moti” also alluded to our modern-day dilemmas and the enticement of materialistic gains that persist presently. (Tu moti moti nu taras gaya// Chaka chond ke moh mai lipat gaya (you lusted after every jewel, blinded by its allure). With each performance, the protagonist’s exterior was broken down, leading him to confront not his past or foreseeable future, but the present. Building it up to a riveting climax (which I won’t spoil), it revealed a more pressing issue — the universal need to feel belonged. Hrutul channeled the anxieties of his audience, letting them release their frustrations, doubts, and fears vicariously through him. As the final act ended, a thunderous standing ovation ensued.

Amidst extreme polarization, the show, through this novel format, vouched for plurality. What was most impressive was Hrutul’s intricate wordplay — a potent mix of rhythmic alliterations, heavy terms, and introspective verses that conveyed truths that might not be digestible in a conversation, but resonant through a song. When you hear something so true, raw, and unfiltered being performed using melody, that uncomfortable feeling of conflict gets diluted, leaving the residue of truth to savor. 

Living in a socio-political setup where our attention is exploited by algorithms, it doesn’t come as a surprise that many young people are turning to spiritual anchors for solace. A study conducted by MTV Youth Study in 2021 found that sixty-two per cent of Indian Gen Z believe spirituality helps them gain clarity. What’s more, wellness has found its way to younger demographics. Be it spiritual music festivals, sound baths, tarot apps, immersive pilgrimages, or grief raves, there is a growing intent to seek, be it purpose, escapism, or meaning, in different forms.

YOUFORIA attempted to question exactly that. In the hypnotic age of buzzwords, Hrutul and his team decided to touch base with their roots. Removing the layers of ritualistic complexities, they strived to make spirituality more accessible to younger audiences, who are striving to establish healthier relationships with their inner self, through a path-breaking format.  

A seasoned wordsmith, Hrutul credited this whole showcase to a series of “epiphanies,” or random notes to himself, as he likes to put it. “I would scribble these ideas on paper, and then transfer them to my Notes app.”  With boyish excitement, he revealed how ‘Czechoslovakia’ was his favorite word at the moment. When asked what the reason was behind using spirituality as a major plot point, he responded: “We live in a simulation of stimulations, where the seeking purpose has become elusive. Hence, I draw from ancient philosophies, ones that came way before organized and propagandized formats; ones that promote diverse polarities.  A sense of calm resided within him, one that was eerie for someone who had just finished performing a Ninety-minute show.

When asked what his parting words would be for the next showcase, he replied: “energy, ecstasy, and evolution.”