Aditya watched as the lift reached the sixth floor. His friend Vedant was by
his side. They both had mud stains all over their school uniforms. Aditya held
the foot ball beside along side with his bag and kept looking at Vedant with a
half smile. Vedant kept staring at the indicator of the lift. The lift stopped
on the sixth floor.
“Best of luck” Vedant said
with sardonic smile and a sarcastic tone.
“Oh shut up! at least I know how to score a goal. You toh never get
selected even. You are bloody girl Aditya, you don’t deserve to be a boy.”
Vedant retorted.
The door bank opposite to the lift was open. Vedant’s mother was putting
incense sticks outside the door. She turned around and looked at Vedant. Her
calm eyes flashed anger.
“Vedant you have spoiled the new t shirt” She caught him by the
ear and took inside the house. Aditya smiled looking at the two of them
He pulled out the key to his house with his mud stained hands as the lift
proceeded to the tenth floor. Some of the mud rubbed off the corners of the
pocket and created a stain. Adiya rushed into the house and put his clothes
inside the washing machine taking care to leave them beneath a pile of clothes
already inside the machine. He then switched the machine on. He turned on the
hot shower and curled up underneath it. The mud flowed down his skin to reveal
his wheatish skin. His thin frame barely covered the bones. He looked at his
thin long legs. He pushed his calf muscles as if to shape and strength them. He
then lied back on the bathroom floor and left the shower water fall on him.
Every one mocked his girly voice and weak frame. The only place he felt
appreciated was in the music class at the school. Their new teacher Dixit
guruji as deeply impressed with his skill at singing. He closed his eyes he started
singing the latest song he had been taught in class. “Let the winter cool
the earth, on it, flamingos give birth…” Simple rhyme and common
verse of the song were stuck in his head.
He suddenly heard the main door open. Aditya wrapped a towel and rushed out
only to find his father walked in. Father stumbled and the room suddenly reeked
of Alcohol. Aditya rushed to support his father.
“Had dinner” his father asked with blood shot eyes. “I am not
going to have any” His father suddenly got up and walked to the bedroom
and crashed on the bed. Aditya put a bedsheet on him and rushed out. He put on
a music channel and started humming tunes. He listened intently to how their
tones were being modulated. He tried to figure every strum of the guitar and
every beat of the drum. Eventually, he switched off the music channel and
closed his eyes to practice one more time the song his teacher had taught him.
He rehearsed first in his mind and then slowly gave his voice. This time the
world around him disappeared, for him, only music emanating from his lips
remained. He mentally corrected the scales to match the tones taught by his
guru. Aditya felt that he had sung perfectly. After rehearsing the entire song
he closed his eyes and observed the silence as taught to him by his teacher.
The Silence was broken however by sound of claps. He opened his eyes. His
mother was at the main door waiting for him. He rushed into her arms.
“You sing well” she said, “Your voice is surely a gift of the
gods.” Aditya could feel the blood rush into his cheeks. It had been a
while since his mother said anything nice to anybody. She too was extremely
thin.
“Have you had dinner?”
“No I was waiting for you mother” He said.
“What about your Dad?”
“Inside”
“Ok, go get the plates,”
They generally had dinner in silence but tonight Aditya’s mother was full of
questions.
“Where did you learn to sing like this?”
“New teacher in school” Aditya answered with his mouth full of
food.
“Yes but so well.”
“I do not know about that but Dixit guruji considers me his favourite
student.”
“Wow. We must meet him then.”
Aditya smiled as he noticed his mother’s eyes light up like never before.
Her cell phone began to ring, Aditya looked intently as she cut the call and
spoke to him instead.
“Look Aditya I will give you a note. Give it to your Guruji.”
“Ok”
She tucked him to bed that night, Aditya counted her mobile phone rang four
times in between. She cut the call four times. Aditya hugged her and fell
asleep smiling.
The next morning he eagerly waited for the music class. The lectures had
never seemed longer and tedious before. He wanted to meet his guruji. His
mother had given a beautiful brown envelope with a letter inside for his
teacher. Throughout the lectures Aditya kept looking at the envelope wondering
what his mother had written. He desperately wanted to know what was in it. The
only way to know was to give it to his teacher. Finally after lunch, the music
period started.
Aditya sat in the front row, right in front of his favourite teacher. Mr
Dixit, cleared his throat and looked at the faces of the children. They
all seemed a little sleepy, except Aditya who was as always excited. He smiled
at Aditya.
“Today we learn the basics of Indian Classical Music”
The lecture was mostly about Ragas, Aroha and Avroha in the Indian Classical
music. At the end of the lecture, the teacher to increase level of the class
made them recite and practice a fast paced song. When the lecture ended Aditya
gave his teacher the envelope. The teacher opened the envelope and read the letter.
“You mother wants me to teach you along with my other students who take
these lessons privately. Are you interested?”
“Yes” Aditya said eagerly.
“Come with your mother, I am writing my address behind on the
envelope.”
The next day after school Aditya opened the door with his own key. Lo,
Behold his mother was right there. She was scrambling through her purse.
“Don’t relax, get fresh and ready we are going to music teacher house
for your private tutoring.”
Aditya rushed in to the bathroom. Even in the sound of drops of shower he
could various tones of music. He wiped the steam of the mirror in the bathroom.
He smiled and looked at his perfect white teeth. He then proceeded to gargle
loudly and spit out the water.
“Aditya come out fast.” His mother called, Aditya rushed out of
the Bathroom.
Since that day Aditya started spending evenings with his guruji. Many other
students came to Guruji’s place to learn music. They were from many different
schools. Aditya could easily blend in, especially because Aditya’s voice made
him something of a celebrity.
All guruji had to do was teach a new raga and Aditya seemed to effortlessly
pick it up. At the end of the session Guruji would make every student sing
personally, to help them get over stage fright and to see how much they had
learnt.
On everyone of these opportunities Aditya felt a surge of emotion veiling up
in his chest. A strange tension would seize him. Slowly beginning from toe and
straight to his his head. He would feel as if his body is completely paralysed.
Eventually it would be his turn to sing. He would walk in front of the class
with jelly feet. He would survey the room and clear his throat before beginning
to sing the Raga that had been rehearsed. As Aditya would sing the tension in
his nerves would dissipate. He would feel light as feather before becoming
completely focused on the music emanating from his throat. He could sense the rhythm
in the ragas and control the pitch accordingly. Although he would make mistakes,
the melody of his voice covered up these blunders. At the end of the song,
other students would generally applaud the young boy. Aditya could feel the
blood gush into his cheeks and he felt that his ear were hot every time.
What he enjoyed the most, however, was rehearsing everything he had learnt
in front of his mom and dad. On very second day itself his father had surprised
him by coming to pick him outside the class. Aditya had run towards his father
as fast as his legs could follow him. His guru taught him that music was holy,
and he believed his guru that day.
He remembered what his teacher had said. “Music is scared and it guides
you to the divine. It is more about finding the inner truth, like Yoga, it is
way of the union with the universal truth. The way of music is the way of
warrior. In path of music you will meet many enemies, internal and external.
The only way to beat them is practice, patience and sacrifice. SACRIFICE
children is most important of the three. If you ever chose to become a musician
by trade you will understand what I mean.”
As his father drove him back home. Aditya knew he was ready to sacrifice
anything for music. The scared chants it seems, had enchanted his parents to
come together again. After going home he practiced some more patiently. As he
slept at night he wondered what sacrifice he would have to make in order to
become the best singer in world.
The next evening, his mother dropped him off early at guruji’s place. He was
surprised to see lot of elder students singing. Aditya sat listening carefully
to them. The students were mostly in their early teens. One of them caught
aditya eye and ear. God her voice Aditya noted. Geeta looked at him and Aditya
realised that he had been staring. He involutarily blushed that seemed to make
geeta smile. Guruji gave the class five minutes recess.
Geeta walked up to him. His heart started beating madly.
“Hey, I am Geeta, what are you called kid?”
“Aditya”
“Aditya, what std are you in Aditya.”
“I am in 1st Std”
“Wow, you are really grown up! Tell me what you are doing here”
Aditya felt a little annoyed with that question. He answered confidently
though
“Is it not obvious that I am here to learn singing.”
Geeta was taken aback “Well you could be like Guruji’s relative!”
“Oh! No no, mom dropped me a little early today”
‘What have you been learning?”
“The basic exercises for modulation you know” As he spoke Aditya
noticed that sleeve of Geeta’s kurta had raised up to expose her wrist. Her
wrist seemed to have faint cuts. Geeta suddenly folded her hands and Aditya
looked up at her startled.
“Sing” she commanded. “I want to see what you know”
Aditya swallowed a bit of saliva as his throat got dry and palms sweaty. She
look right into his eyes, and his heart beat had suddenly gone through the
roof. He cleared his throat and said “I am the best in my class. I will
show you.”
Aditya closed his eyes to block her out and started to sing. His notes were
out of tune at first. He did not stop or open his eyes. Instead he observed
something in his mind’s eye as he started to give his voice form. It was
Geeta’s wrists and those subtle cuts. It reminded him of his own dysfunctional
childhood. His voice thus, got a twinge of that sad note. Geeta was taken aback
by the clarity and serenity of his voice. When he opened his eyes he could see
the look of shock in her eyes. She patted his back and said “Do not ever
give up singing”. Their recess ended and Aditya sat there gloating.
The second session was a blurr to Aditya. He kept thinking about the stunned
look on Geeta’s face when he had stopped singing. The look gave him a strange
thrill. When their session was over, he followed Geeta out of the class. She
was with other girl’s in the class. She waved at him as he approached her.
“Aditya here has a brilliant voice?” Geeta told her friend
“I know I heard him too, Just hope puberty does not ruin it for
him.”
Geeta giggled “I am sure he would be fine”
Aditya the silent spectator to the the whole conversation, however, suddenly
felt a little sick in stomach. “What the hell was this Puberty
thing?” As children from his batch started arriving the class Aditya took
his place right in front of the teacher’s desk.
“Today we are going to practice the intonation for Raga…”
Although the sounds were falling on his ears, Aditya could not comprehend the
things being taught by guruji. His mind was occupied with one thought. What
would happen if he lost his voice. That day at rehearsal time, he was
consistently off beat. After repeatedly explaining the problem to him, guruji
got annoyed.
“All the praise is going to head. Remember Music is scared and demands
humility” Guruji shouted at him.
Aditya could feel the perspiration on his forehead. His lips went dry.
“I am sorry Sir, I did not quite follow the concept today.”
“Of course you did not follow the concept. Your head was full of
praise. Go sit down.”
Everyone in the class began to murmur. Aditya sat down humiliated. He
decided to go home and practice on current session more. He strained his memory
to figure out what Guruji had said during the lecture. As other students took
their turn, Aditya furiously worked to understand what he had missed. By the
end of the lecture he was fairly confident that he had learnt everything he had
missed.
With stoic determination he waited out Guruji’s house. One by one all the
students left. Aditya’s father had not arrived. As the crowd thinned out
Aditya’s mind went right back to the horrible day. ‘Puberty’ one word suddenly
sprung up and once again Aditya felt anxiety rise from within and take over his
entire existence. What was the dark magic of this word which had so distracted
him. He instinctively knew that the word had an adult innuendo. He brushed the
thought out of head angrily and decided to focus on his missed lecture instead.
He wanted to reach home and practice everything he had learnt. He was angry
with his father for being late. Just then his father arrived.
He was going to ask his father the causes for the delay, but the alcohol on
his breathe gave him away. His father seemed to be in his senses. Aditya stared
at his father’s face and sat beside him in silence. His father had a guilty
look on his face.
“Sorry, I am late, I got caught up at work.”
Aditya knew it was a lie. He also knew his mother would be upset now, they
would probably fight. He was terrified of the quarrel he was sure would ensue.
All he wanted to do was practice his session. Perhaps singing would save the
day for him. So he practiced with unusual fervor that evening. His mother happy
with his progress kept calm despite his father’s clear relapse.
The whole night Aditya tossed and turned. What if he got puberty and lost
his voice, his family would fall apart!
The child with miraculous voice however was fast becoming very famous. His
teacher had offered to send him to a televised show. This was big deal for
Aditya and his family. His fathered seemed to be sobering his act again.
Success brought with it the anxiety of losing. He was now haunted in his
dreams. Losing his voice would mean losing the world.
During one late night practice session before the big televised show, the
subject of puberty was broached again in front of Aditya. One of the older
students seemed to have lost the control of his voice. Since it was just boys
in class the guruji seemed liberal with use of launguage. Guruji laughed
“When the balls get heavy so does the voice” Everyone laughed.
After the class Aditya asked his Guruji “What was the joke all
about?”
“Well son it is not my place to tell you. It happens with age you just
focus on your singing”
“What if my voice gets heavy to and I am not able to control it.”
“You will still be able to train your voice.”
“I will not lose my voice”
“Well you may not sound as sweet as you do. Look if your voice becomes
completely terrible you can still play an instrument. Every person will find
his/her place in the world of music. Don’t worry. Does Ustad Zakir
Hussain have a good voice? Who knows? But he plays tabla so well!” Guruji
explained.
Aditya felt that the teacher was consoling him. He felt very anxious.
He asked one of the friendlier teenage boys. “What’s the deal with you
people not controlling you voice.”
“You will face issues once you hit puberty as well”
“What is puberty?”
Pointing towards Aditya’s balls the elder boy said “They start working
little man. And man learns to get the big…hahaha you will understand with
time”
“What does that mean?”
“You are a kid you will learn with time.” The teenager answered
very seriously this time.
The televised show went well. Aditya’s father called every relative that
they knew. He was estactic. They all praised him a-lot. He was the first member
of the extended family to appear on television. More shows were lined up.
Aditya had been star of the show, his innocent eyes and sweet voice made him
quite famous.
All the praise only made aditya more anxious. All musicians make sacrifices.
The phrase was stuck in his head. He could not afford to sing badly anymore.
That night as his parents slept, Aditya twisted and turned in his bed. He
had to make his sacrifices. He could not afford to lose the control of his
voice. The night dragged on for Aditya. He could feel his stomach churn with
anxiety. His mouth filled with bile. He rushed to the bathroom. He closed the
door quickily. He did not want his parents to find him this way.
He rushed to aim the vomit at the commode, in turn he ended up dropping
things on the floor. Fortunately the noise was not too loud. One of the things
he dropped was a razor. As bent and picked the razor, Aditya cut his fingers.
The blood just gushed out. Keeping his hand to the side Aditya picked up other
things off the floor. He suddenly realised he also had to piss. All the anxiety
had gone to his bladder.
In a hurry he ended using his injured hand to hold his penis while he took
an aim. The wound immediately burned and Aditya immediately moved his other
hand to replace the injured one. As he pissed into the pot, he noticed his
testicles dangling. He knew then what the elder boy had meant. When the
testicles start working you loose control over your voice.
The pain of the freshly cut palm made him think clearly. “All musicians
make sacrifices, to be the best musician I will make the biggest sacrifice of
all times.” Thinking thus, Aditya picked up the razor with his injured
hand. The blood started flowing from the former wound profusely.
His legs started shivering, but he moved his hand down with force. The razor
sliced thorugh his testicles. The world suddenly became red Aditya smiled at
the sacrifice he had made.
When he came back to his senses he screamed. His shouts woke up his parents.
They took him to the hospital.
“I slipped and fell on it in my sleep” he claimed. Both the
parents looked at him sympathetically but Aditya could feel the distinct
tension between them. He felt drowsy because of the medications. As he drifted
off into his sleep he could hear his father apologies profusely as his mother
kept saying “I have had enough”
“Atleast I will have my voice” Aditya thought as he smiled to
sleep.