The first time you hold a microphone and enthusiastically
croon the tunes of ‘oye oye’ from ‘Tridev’ for an avid audience, your central nervous
system isn’t even developed enough to retain the memories completely. Then you
grow up to qualify for choir singing and soon the nerve to face the crowd alone
wanes out of you. However, past adolescence, in the nascent stages of
adulthood, you start harboring the dream of becoming a pop star. It doesn’t
matter to you that only little girls are fans of ‘Hanna Montana’, you are happy
to be in your late teens and yet admire the perky-optimistic lyrics of ‘Best of
both worlds’! So this time you don’t sing in a choir, you are up for grabbing a
rocking identity on stage.
You struggle, you fall, you rise again yet you crawl… until you
hit the wall of limited audience and tiny scope! Soon you realize that your
voice is not made for the microphone. The nasal twang in your voice is not
appreciated by anyone and you should focus more on management than on music.
Alas, when hope is crushed, you don’t see any leftovers, all that
remains is emptiness. Miraculously however, then comes the time of ‘Himesh
Reshmiya’ and twang is the buzz word in the music biz! So you rise to
prominence once again in your own happy-to-laugh-at-parodies lot. But it is too
late… that point in time is gone when you could have chosen music as a life
path.
Yes, the dialog in ‘Jab we met’ does make you think once
again that life is still not over and music can still be a direction for you.
But somehow, the comfort of not struggling with a guitar and not subjecting
yourself to ridicule in auditions has become the norm for you. The talent
fizzles out…
Years pass, you are only a bathroom singer now…at times
friends coax you into singing, but that is it. All that remains is a moribund
ambition which flares up when you see people auditioning for American Idol or
when you see kids still performing on stage with a hope in their eyes which
nobody can squelch out… yet. The guitar gathers dust and the tonsils swell up
to comfort. You are breathless 10 seconds into the melody and soon, singing
will be a forgotten dream. But was it meant to be this way…can you find your
sound one day?
Is there a ‘Tara’ to go to…where you can remove yourself
from the everyday mundane and tell your singing heart “Tomorrow is another day”?
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