I threw a wish in the well, dont ask me I'll never tell, I looked in you as it fell, and now your in my way.... your stare was holdin', ripped jean skin was showin', la la la... " GEethuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!! wake up" The annoying scream washed out the "carly rae jepson" rhythm that was beating my eardrums even when during my "slumber". I hopped downstage, blew an apologetic kiss to my fans, got into my limousine and opened my eyes.. Looking down at my flipflops, I tried remembering what those stiletoes looked like. Vivid images from the dream flashed across my mind, - the jazz beats, the lights, and shoot! Mom's shrill noise flooded them out again!
Well,!!! Here enters the daydreamer! That was the tale of my one random moment.
I was blessed with the name "Sangeetha", the sanskrit word for music. Maybe it's the major reason why I feel so connected with melodies. Any rhythm first penetrates deep down my heart before finding the path to my ears. I try searching for patterns and tunes in every sound I hear..
Wiping strands of wet hair, I came out of the bathroom after spending one blissful hour in the shower. I stopped and glanced across the room. Everyone was looking at me trying to hold giggles. I raised my eyebrow. A hoard of applause flew in immediately, and the mocking began. "Here comes the singer! Great concert Sangi monkey!! People are trying to sleep here!!! And they are allured by your extremely annoying yells!" I just grinned like I didn't care and walked out with tears brimming in my eyes. I sing for myself, I judge myself and I believe that only person who can make me happy is me. Because when it comes to music, I cant easily impress.
Finally a big day arrived.The day came when I actually stepped up on a stage. Preeti didi held my shivering hand and said," Geethu, I want to tell you something before you give your performance.." I was standing backstage, peeping through the curtains, waiting for my name to be announced. I wasnt paying any special attention to her words. But I mumbled ," Sure, go on!"
"Where's your skirt?" she cried. "What??" I almost yelled, looking startled. Looking at my skirt, tightly fastened to my hip gave me relief. She laughed and said, "Chill sweetie! Don't get nervous! Sing for yourself!" I took deep breaths and stepped on the stage. One word and I suddenly heard my voice amplified... My mind failed to recollect my memories, failed to sense the world around me... I just sang for myself.. When no more words were left to accompany the melody, I stopped and stepped down. People walked up to me, praising me and enquiring about my music teacher. This gave me a lot of pleasure. But even today, whenever I sing for anybody other than myself, I sound very average.
"How was my song??", I asked a person close to my heart eagerly. "Oh! Why do you want to hear your own praise?", he said. "Am just asking your views!" I replied modestly. "Err... Umm... You looked good while singing!", he said after fractions of "deep thought". And I felt like "Shoot! I did it again! Why on earth did I open my mouth!" But what I actually said was, " So, you mean to say, I looked better than I sounded?", I said. "Ya.. Just good to look at!"
Such instances make me understand the difference between the real me and how the world sees me. No matter how much pain large issues cause, a small screw up with musical notes and the criticism following it leave a burning unhealable mark within me. I still remember crying during the music class when I was unable to pick up the taalam of "ninnu kori". I remember clutching the harmonium closers and hurting myself purposely everytime my finger slipped out of a key. I remember the craze I have for music and the disappointment that I face...
I live in the joy that music provides me and the sorrow that it shoves down within me......
Well,!!! Here enters the daydreamer! That was the tale of my one random moment.
I was blessed with the name "Sangeetha", the sanskrit word for music. Maybe it's the major reason why I feel so connected with melodies. Any rhythm first penetrates deep down my heart before finding the path to my ears. I try searching for patterns and tunes in every sound I hear..
Wiping strands of wet hair, I came out of the bathroom after spending one blissful hour in the shower. I stopped and glanced across the room. Everyone was looking at me trying to hold giggles. I raised my eyebrow. A hoard of applause flew in immediately, and the mocking began. "Here comes the singer! Great concert Sangi monkey!! People are trying to sleep here!!! And they are allured by your extremely annoying yells!" I just grinned like I didn't care and walked out with tears brimming in my eyes. I sing for myself, I judge myself and I believe that only person who can make me happy is me. Because when it comes to music, I cant easily impress.
Finally a big day arrived.The day came when I actually stepped up on a stage. Preeti didi held my shivering hand and said," Geethu, I want to tell you something before you give your performance.." I was standing backstage, peeping through the curtains, waiting for my name to be announced. I wasnt paying any special attention to her words. But I mumbled ," Sure, go on!"
"Where's your skirt?" she cried. "What??" I almost yelled, looking startled. Looking at my skirt, tightly fastened to my hip gave me relief. She laughed and said, "Chill sweetie! Don't get nervous! Sing for yourself!" I took deep breaths and stepped on the stage. One word and I suddenly heard my voice amplified... My mind failed to recollect my memories, failed to sense the world around me... I just sang for myself.. When no more words were left to accompany the melody, I stopped and stepped down. People walked up to me, praising me and enquiring about my music teacher. This gave me a lot of pleasure. But even today, whenever I sing for anybody other than myself, I sound very average.
"How was my song??", I asked a person close to my heart eagerly. "Oh! Why do you want to hear your own praise?", he said. "Am just asking your views!" I replied modestly. "Err... Umm... You looked good while singing!", he said after fractions of "deep thought". And I felt like "Shoot! I did it again! Why on earth did I open my mouth!" But what I actually said was, " So, you mean to say, I looked better than I sounded?", I said. "Ya.. Just good to look at!"
Such instances make me understand the difference between the real me and how the world sees me. No matter how much pain large issues cause, a small screw up with musical notes and the criticism following it leave a burning unhealable mark within me. I still remember crying during the music class when I was unable to pick up the taalam of "ninnu kori". I remember clutching the harmonium closers and hurting myself purposely everytime my finger slipped out of a key. I remember the craze I have for music and the disappointment that I face...
I live in the joy that music provides me and the sorrow that it shoves down within me......
No comments:
Post a Comment