Ever since Slumdog Millionaire bagged 8 Oscars, I have been getting at least 50 spam comments everyday to my SM review blog post. And it doesn’t seem to stop.
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I spent an entire evening yesterday to record some songs for the blog. As much as I enjoyed singing, I think it is not affordable for a part time musician to spent a weekend’s (or weekday’s) evening like this – the time which he/she should have given to his/her family. And it’s fine for me by the way, as long as I stay single 🙂 And there is no question about going full time into music as well. Like a colleague said, “in a crowded place like India, going full time for art and music is a luxury”. The fun part of yesterday was in adding some Raga touch to a track of a world music band, who specialize on afro-american-Jazz music. Gotta send the mixed track to that band and see what they think.
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Yesterday, I showed my mother an Indian Express article where they have written about me and Blogswara. My mom can’t read English, so she asked me what it is about. I explained to her in simple language that Blogswara is a website where little known musicians can showcase their best work before the world. Her immediate (and innocent) reaction was, “Did you have to spend money for this?” I got angry. Because I was expecting her to be happy that her son got featured in a newspaper for something he did with his friends. Instead she was concerned about the money.
But after the initial moment of anger, I realized that her question shows how much she cares for me. She is worried about the debts I have. About the housing loan and related personal debts. She reminds me about that on every weekend when I come home. I would tell her, “Amma, I’m not that little kid anymore. I know what I have to do“. But she would repeat it on every weekend and I would let her be. Through out her life, she never had any debt. She lived tight and taught us to live with what we have. So I can understand what she was thinking.
I don’t know if she cares about my musical passion. She never told me much about it. Or perhaps she is afraid to show it. She might be worried that I would go full time with music. Because she never heard of anybody from the neighborhood making it big in the music industry and rather heard stories of drunk and poor musicians living their life being the laughingstock of society. She wouldn’t want such a thing happen to her son.
At the end of the day, I see this fragile but beautiful old lady looking at me with so much affection and worrying so much about me all the time. And I thank God for giving me such a caring mother.