My
parents have been telling me the same thing ever since I could talk.
Anwesha, this world is
extremely unfair. Don’t ever underestimate it.
I
remembered what they said, even today. The day that I was told by my mother
that I was going to be participating in a competition in music, I wondered if
what they had told me throughout the years would be taken into account in this
situation as well. I didn't know whether to go into this open minded or to be
cautious. Truth be told, I didn't want to participate in a competition this
early into my training life. But my mother was also right when she said that, “We know that you’re good here, in your
safe environment. We don’t know how good you are out there, in the real world.”
Of
course, the way she said was different, with a lot of comments included, along
with some hesitant grammatical mistakes. But it’s the thought that counts.
So
I practiced quite a bit, more than I normally do. I bothered my teachers until
we were finally finished with figuring out what type of raag I’d sing, what ghazal
I’d sing and what tan’s I would sing
along with them. It was no easy job and I was scolded sometimes for not doing
what I should have been doing. We had auditions and semi finals. I was so
nervous in both of them. I've never experienced nervousness of that sort
before, and that was just the auditions. I got through the auditions like my
parents knew I would. I passed the semi finals with the same expectations. I
had my brother with me through both of these tests. He was encouraging and
supportive and…well…my brother. I wish he’d been there for the finals as well.
I’m not as naïve as to think that if he was there then I’d have had better
chance at winning, I just like having my brother around for my performances.
We
had a month’s gap after the semi finals to practice for the grand finale. I had
that much time to practice my routine to perfection. Whatever amount of practice
I did get in though, I guess it wasn’t enough. Then again, no matter how much
you practice, it’s never enough. The world is just that awesome. (Note the sarcasm).
So
the final day came and I was nervous, of course I was nervous but compared to
how I looked like I was a jumping jack in my seat in the auditions, I was
calmer here. We were called at the hour of four thirty and released from the
blessed auditorium at an ungodly hour of twelve thirty, post midnight. In that
time span, the things I learned in that auditorium were so valuable, that I
don’t think I’ll ever forget what took place in there.
I didn't win, hurrah. I don’t think I ever thought I was actually going to win.
Though numerous times, I asked my mother and father, what if I don’t win?
I
don’t know why I asked the same but my mother told me that when I get on that
stage, I will not sing to win. I’ll sing to feel the joy of singing, that crazy
rush of adrenaline I get every single time I perform in front of an audience, is what I was going to sing for. And I did. Though the perfectly painful
headache I get after my rush isn't exactly welcomed, it’s worth it. You know
the term “sing with your heart?” Okay it’s not a term, it’s just something wise
old people keep saying but the thought, the thought itself is what I felt that
day, when I was on that stage with all those people in front of me. It sounds
intimidating and, believe me, it is. I want to run away into hiding every
single time they call my name to the stage but then, I find it in myself to go
ahead because if I don’t sing, then what will I do?
In
the end, it wasn't the about the competition, or the prize, or the certificate
or anything else. It was about me, doing what I am destined to do, doing it
perfectly and that is a prize they cannot take away from me.
"I am the master of
my fate
I am the captain of my soul."
I am the captain of my soul."
Hear my song on.......इश्क़ फ़ना का नाम है
- Anwesha Mitra
