At the beginning of his first show in years, Indian musician Himesh Reshammiya – known for his distinct nasal voice – poses a question: “Should I sing from my mouth or through my nose?”

“Through the nose!” the crowd responds, their euphoric chants drowning in a blast of orchestral music.

A splash of synth violins and drums follows, as red lights strobe over the fans gathered at Delhi’s Indira Gandhi Arena stadium. And then comes the unmistakable crooning: “Aashiq banaya aap ne (You have turned me into a lover),” Reshammiya whispers, his signature twang ringing from every corner. The crowd erupts into screams again.

By the end of the night, legions of fans hailed it as the best concert of their lives.

Reshammiya, one of Bollywood’s leading composers and singers, has long been a polarising figure in Indian pop culture – mocked for his nasal vocals yet loved for that very uniqueness.

Even at the peak of his career, when his songs blared from every city, street and gathering of the country, his singing would get associated with poor taste and “cringe” sensibilities.

But it’s this contradiction – along with his ever-evolving persona, unabashed personality, and unapologetic approach to music – that has cemented his cult status.

A few years ago, he was written off after shifting focus from music to acting – but those career obituaries proved premature.

Now he is back, singing the same songs in the same style – and yet managing to attract tens of thousands of fans, both old and new.

In Delhi, during two back-to-back shows, his nasal voice stayed sharp, hitting every note flawlessly without missing a beat.

Everything was intended to evoke nostalgia – the set list was drawn from the late 2000s, during which he released some of his most memorable songs. Fans received replicas of his iconic red cap – glittering with HR initials – worn by Reshammiya along with his signature black leather robes that inspired a fashion subculture.

Behind him, the production took care of everything else: the energetic dance troupes, sophisticated light and sound backdrops and a full-fledged backing orchestra. “Are you ready to turn this stadium into a nightclub?” he roared.

Fans seemed to be on a whole other level of euphoria, jumping out of their seats and breaking into little dances. Some came dressed like him – black cap, black jacket and a cropped beard – and carried banners: “Love you, Lord Himesh”.

“This feels like time travel – these songs were the sound of my teenage life,” a woman screamed in between the sonic booms of the bass.

With each song, even Himesh seemed more unrestrained. At one point he indulged the audience a little: “They want me to end the show at 10. But don’t you want me to sing for you the entire night?”

The impact was disarming. With the success of his concert, Reshammiya had once again taken the tag of “cringe” and managed to make it subersively cool.

He became not just a man, “but a lowercase god of post-ironic worship: Lord Himesh. In fact, the whole idea of calling someone ‘Lord’ is just ironic surrender,” writes journalist Anurag Minus Verma.

But how did he do it?

Born in Mumbai into a musical family – his father was a well-known composer and producer – Reshammiya started his career as a TV producer at the age of 17.

In his free time, he would compose his own songs. “I would keep a repository of tunes ready with me, waiting for the right moment to unleash them on the world,” he said in an interview earlier this year.

That moment arrived in 1998, when he made the music for Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya, starring Bollywood star Salman Khan. The film was a roaring success and earned Reshammiya mainstream recognition.

As his stature as a composer grew, Reshammaiya famously featured as one of the judges in Sa Re Ga Ma Pa, a hugely popular reality TV singing show. It was here that he coined the famous line, “Jai Mata Di Let’s Rock” – an eclectic war cry that mashed devotion (by invoking a revered Hindu goddess) with rockstar energy, and has become emotional memorabilia for his fans.

Things seemed to be going a certain direction until 2005, when Reshammiya completely flipped the script with the film Ashiq Banaya Aapne..

Enter: the nasal era. Largely a composer until then, Reshammiya sang several songs on the album in a style that was unheard of in Bollywood, although he claimed he sounded nasal because he has a high-pitched voice.

Whatever it was, the twangy sound flew with the masses. “Often, the songs were sloppily produced but the words were so emotional and the melodies so catchy, that no one cared,” says Uzair Iqbal, a Bengaluru-based musician.

He even looked younger, swapping his clean-shaven exuberance for a moodier vibe, crooning ballads beneath a cap and shades that hid his face.

Jokes followed him, along with scathing critics who dismissed him as a fleeting trend and his music as corny and repetitive.

But with every hit – he had at least 30 in one year – he got closer to challenging these notions. His iconic partnership with actor Emran Hashmi, earned him the moniker “hit machine”. In 2006, he became the first Indian to perform at London’s Wembley Stadium.

“Seeing this man own his corniness, his ‘nasal’ critique felt freeing in a time where perfection is curated to obnoxious levels,” says Mabel Ghosh, a Delhi-based fan.

Then at the peak of his stardom, Reshammiya opted for another grandiose reinvention – and turned to acting.

By his own admission, it was a bold move, one that turned him into one of the most famously memed figures in India. His stoic stares on screen lent themselves to so many jokes that newspapers wrote articles about it.

But he flipped that around too. Between extreme fandom and pouring scorn, Reshammiya took the best from both and turned it into something unique and inordinately fun.

So when people made fun of him, he joined in. The most endearing moment happened during the pandemic when videos of him working out – poker-faced and staring right into your soul – sparked waves of jokes online. Instead of getting discouraged, he began to post more.

“People wondered what the hell was I doing? I was just vibing with my fans. Enjoy life man, don’t take it so seriously,” he famously said.

His films, most of them self-produced, have enjoyed limited success but he stays on course. “With the right film, I can do wonders. I know people would mock me for saying this, but I know what I am doing.”

It was this same unapologetic attitude that made his show a roaring success too.

Despite the ridicule, Reshammiya is not interested in chipping away bits of his personality – instead he embraces his quirks, turning them into a commercially successful signature.

“Reshammiya is one for the masses, one of the great cultural equalisers in India,” Mr Ghosh says.

“He’s been proudly owning his style for years – now his fans are too, even the reluctant and ironic ones.”

Back at the concert, two friends were having a conversation.

“Why do you think I like his songs this much? Is it nostalgia?” one of them asks.

“Bro, his songs still slap,” the other responds. “What else do you need?”