Not quite music to their ears

Gurvinder Kaur 

There comes a turning point for everyone in life. Mine, much to my chagrin, came rather late. But once it appeared, I could ignore it no longer. It happened at a party where I sang a song and met with such unstinted, though a trifle slurred, appreciation that I was forced to take cognizance of the ‘immensely talented’ singer within me. Yes, that was the term thrown about freely that night. Swollen with pride, I decided to take up classical singing. Soon, I had Guruji coming in to take classes regularly.

I was to practice for riyaaz is the backbone of good singing, said Guruji. I took to singing as a fish takes to water and set aside an hour for it daily. In fact, I noted with pride, setting up a routine had helped my entire family. Mom would regularly tune into Gurbani, the minute I started my riyaaz. The boys, leaving aside their lethargy, were eager to go to the local market for household supplies during that hour and my husband even had my timings noted in his phone. 

I am setting an example, I would beam to myself. However, slowly, cracks started to appear in my perfect world! The family, tolerant and supportive initially, started to get a little worked up from all that ‘wear and tear to their ear drums’, as they termed it, asking me to tone it down. My husband was the first to react, "Why all that screaming," he would ask upon his return home in the evening.  I understood that not everyone could be an aesthete and explained patiently that my Guruji had instructed me to shout and sing, for it would open up my vocal chords, while he listened poker-faced.

 “Mom, it’s supposed to be about melody, right,” my children would say caustically. “You are not artistically inclined,” I would smirk and add, “learn to cultivate taste for the finer things in life.” Palpable tension seemed to simmer in the house when I bought a tabla in addition to my harmonium, but the whole family rose as one against the prospect of me buying a tanpura next. “Fine, barbarians,” I huffed, “I will practice in the ante room.” Herded out of the house, to the store room in the backyard, I remained dedicated to the performing arts.  However, after a visit from our neighbours, when my mom timidly suggested that we could strain a decade-old relationship with them as their dog howled incessantly during that hour, I relented and threw in the towel!

Yes, it is a big loss to the world of music but how can you battle a world full of ignoramuses?  It is a cross that an artiste carries. 

I think I will try my hand at painting now, my drawing room looks a bit bare!