A R Rehman, the piano and me

It has always been my dream to sing – no high ambitions, nowhere as close to Shreya Ghoshal, anyway. Or even Neha Kakkar for that matter. The closest and easiest goal I set myself was Himesh Reshamiya. 

While my family, friends and relatives are not aware of it, I do have a bit of a talent for singing. My bathroom walls are a testimony to this ambitious statement of mine. The musical scales I’ve reached within the soundproof confines of the bathroom, I tell you … A R Rehman would have signed me on. If he had been privileged to listen to me. 

However, aware that without proper training, I could not take my talent out to the world, one day on a sudden whim I went and enrolled myself in a music institute in Abu Dhabi. To tell the truth, it was as sudden a whim as it could get. There I was walking along Electra Street in the heart of Abu Dhabi with a bag of fresh veggies in one hand and an umbrella in the other when I casually look up to get my bearings and would you believe it — I was right beneath a hoarding for a music school. And my feet, of its own accord, instead of walking north wards, they took a right-angled turn and walked eastwards with the result that very soon I was inside the building and catching the lift, up to the Institute. 

There I announced to a nice man sitting behind the counter that I was interested in vocal classes. Alas, he informed me that their music teacher was out of town for a couple of days and could I come back later. By then, my courage and enthusiasm had already dropped to my feet and I was sure I would not return and sensing this, the man asked me if I wanted to try out some keyboard or piano lessons until then. 

I instantly joined. And that is how the world lost a great singer. I hear a sigh of relief all round and truth to tell I agree! 

Because, unfortunately, my love for music, did not guarantee an aptitude for music and I could make out neither head nor tail of all that my good instructor tried to teach me. All those A minors and D flats and what not, went above and far beyond my head. But I stuck to it diligently and personally I was quite pleased with the snail-like progress that I seemed to be making in the world of music. 

Until, the director of the Institute dropped a bombshell – a big one! The annual day was coming up and it was mandatory for all the students to sign up, no excuses would be entertained. And I did try out all excuses – my children had final exams, my long-gone grandmother had died again, I was going to break out into chicken pox …. but all in vain. I had to participate and that was that.

Rehearsals were a trauma I cannot describe and by the time the concert day dawned I had reduced myself to a nervous wreck. The husband accompanied me as my staunch, supportive, and as it happens my only well-wisher. Because at the venue, it was disclosed that my item was scheduled as the 25th on the programme list. To begin with the auditorium was packed like a Mumbai local train and that made me even more nervous. I would be making a fool of myself in front of all these people? Dear God!

But as the concert progressed, the hall began emptying and by the time our team went on stage it was 11.45 pm and except for my music instructor, the director of the institute and a half-asleep husband, the hall was nice and empty. 

Just my kinda concert. It was as if I was in the safety of my bathroom, all over again, all by myself and I let it go full throttle and banged on the keys like I was Beethoven, Mozart, Bach and all them musical geniuses put together. 

My performance was a hit! The sole member in the audience will vouch for it.  

He has no option, poor fellow!