MONDAY

It's Monday. 2:55pm. I know I have to be ready to start in exactly five minutes. As the clock nears 3, I plug in my electric tanpura, get my notebook and water bottle, unplug the charging bluetooth speaker and place it next to me. I grab my sitting pillow and adjust the lights in my room. Not too dark, not too bright. I shut the door, closing myself off to any noise or distraction. "Bluetooth connected with iPhone", says the robotic voice in the speaker. I am now ready.

I browse through the notebook, glancing through everything that I've learnt from my guru. Bihag - Bhairav - Yaman - Tilak Kamod - Kaafi - Basant - Kamod - Bhupali - Malkauns - Bilawal. “Whom shall I try to befriend today?” I ask out loud, a little afraid of the answer.

Understanding and appreciating Hindustani classical music is a wonderful feeling, while listening to another vocalist. It aqcuires a whole other level of meaning and depth, when it comes to singing it yourself. The amount of multitasking and mindfulness involved, truly challenges the mind, and body. Through my taleem and riyaaz, more than anything else, my respect for classical musicians has increased ten fold. At a time, the mind has to be focused on a minimum of five things – the modal identity of the ‘raag’, theoretical and practical understanding of how the ‘raag’ develops, the lyrical essence of the ‘bandish’ (composition), the various techniques of embellishment or decoration, the creative patterns of improvisation, all skillfully executed, to be brought back almost effortlessly to the ‘sum’ (strong beat).

My life at times feels like an eternal struggle, just to make friends with one raag. In fact I would consider myself lucky even striking just an acquaintance, if not friendship. But while I say that, some days, when I haven’t even bothered to be hopeful about my attempts and I find myself singing rather mechanically, I feel a strange sense of familiarity develop, with the raag I’m singing. It almost feels like I know this raag from deep inside, like a gut feeling. A tiny bubble of excitement rises inside as my lips begin to curve upwards for a smile. “Is it really happening?” my mind wanders, almost prepared for the answer. But the feeling flees in a snap, before I can even process it, not giving me another second of its time. I drop back to reality, the bubble has burst and I’m still where I began. But I know that feeling, the incomparable rush of emotions and expectations all bubbling inside of me. I know what that feeling means to me and I am ready to spend a lifetime trying to bring it back into my senses, and have it stay, even if for just a few minutes.