Chapter 2: A Tune of Desperation and Hope

Now that I had a clear goal in my mind, I was ready to take any risk necessary to reach the top. When I woke up, it was still very early. The sky outside was dark, tinged with the faintest hint of light. An old Nokia 3310 rested near my pillow.

Picking it up, I squinted at the screen. It was 4:00 AM. I scanned the room, finding the other beds empty. My family and I shared this room, and most of our days were spent outside the house, making the small two-room dwelling more than sufficient.

After washing my face, I moved towards the open area where my mother was peeling boiled potatoes. Approaching her, I picked up another knife and joined her. Although I'll meet her for the first time, I felt a special bond with my parents, a connection that resonated within my heart.

"Why are you up so early today?" my mother asked, her face lit up with a gentle smile.

"Nothing in particular. Where's Baba?" I asked, scanning the room in search of my father.

"He's gone to buy Pavs. He'll be back soon," she replied, her gaze still focused on the potatoes. This was their regular morning routine: my mother starting her day with boiling and peeling potatoes, while my father went to the bakery to fetch Pavs.

"Aai, should I look for some work? What if I help father with the shop?" I suggested. Although my ultimate dream was to become a singer, I knew I wasn't the protagonist of a story where someone would suddenly discover me and make me a star. I needed money to achieve my dreams, and finding work was a logical step towards that goal.

"You don't need to worry about this. We're doing fine. You're still young. Experiment, explore different things, and if nothing works, at least you won't live with any regrets," my mother advised. In response to her words, I simply nodded, my mind drifting to the past in search of something that could guide me.

Suddenly, I remembered Salim, the man who managed the band Aarohi sang in. However, I had no connection to him, which made me ponder how to approach him.

Just as I was contemplating this, my father returned with the Pavs. It was now 6:00 AM, and after we finished breakfast, both of them left the house around 7:00 AM.

Left alone in the house, I was free to delve deeper into my thoughts. Having nothing else to do, I took an early bath and then organized my belongings. I soon stumbled upon an old harmonium and decided to try playing it.

With the official training I had received, I was somewhat proficient in both the harmonium and Indian classical music. Moreover, I had discovered a new skill, the ability to manipulate my larynx to produce a soothing voice.

Even I was taken aback by the quality of my voice, and soon I found myself lost in the melody that I was singing, a piece I had once heard from Mahesh Kale. (A/N: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/USXEa8SuOnc: Some moments are for eternity! AbhangWari | Mumbai | Mahesh Kale)

So engrossed was I in my singing that I failed to notice the presence of someone at the door. It was only after I finished that I noticed someone standing there.

"Wow, Vipin, I never thought you were this good at singing. Why didn't you share this in class?" I was so engrossed in my music that I didn't notice someone at the door. Only after I finished playing did I sense someone's presence.

"Wow... Vipin. I never realized you were this good at singing. Why didn't you sing in class?" The girl stood there, watching me.

"Well, you never took notice. That's not my problem. By the way, why are you here, Aarohi?" I questioned, noting the charming smile on her face.

"Salim Bhai said he found a gig in Goa and that the owner would pay us well if we performed at his bar. So, I'm going with them," she replied as I followed her. From her words, I deduced that the story was still in its early stages.

"Will you be away for long?" I asked, aiming to keep the conversation flowing and hopefully secure a chance to speak with Salim.

"Not long, about three months," she answered.

"Three months in Goa, huh? That sounds like quite the adventure," I responded, aiming to sound casual.

"Yeah, I guess it is. But the money's good, and it's a chance to perform for different audiences," she replied. Soon, we arrived at Salim's house. Though I didn't know him personally, I had a reason to be here.

"Hi, Salim Bhai," Aarohi greeted him, and I followed her lead.

"Hello. So, Aarohi, are you ready? Also, who is this fellow?" Salim asked, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

"Don't get the wrong idea. He's Vipin, my neighbour. We both trained under the same teacher. And you know what, Salim Bhai, he's an amazing singer. I had no idea he could sing so well, but when I heard him this morning, he was phenomenal," Aarohi rattled on, not allowing Salim or me to get a word in.

I glanced at Salim, offering an apologetic smile, to which he reciprocated.

"Salim Bhai, do you have any openings in your team? I was hoping to find some work," I ventured cautiously, addressing Salim.

His response was a dismissive shake of his head. "Well, Vipin, the bar is already providing the orchestra and Aarohi is our sole singer. I'm not certain there's a place for you here." The clear refusal in his face was understandable, given that we were practically strangers.

At this point, Aarohi interjected, "Salim Bhai, is there really nothing we can do? Vipin is quite talented." Her innocent appeal gave me a glimmer of hope.

Salim, however, remained unmoved. "I'm afraid not, Aarohi. We already have a full team." His voice carried a finality that left no room for negotiation.

Disappointed but respectful of his decision, I thanked them and made my way back home. The rejection didn't surprise me, but it did spur my thoughts into overdrive. What if I moved to Goa on my own? Could I manage to run into them there and somehow wiggle my way into their team?

For a fleeting moment, a wild plan formed in my mind. What if I could somehow cause Aarohi to lose her voice, maybe by slipping her a drink that would give her a sore throat? The thought, as enticing as it was desperate, was quickly dismissed. I remembered the kindness in Aarohi's eyes when she pleaded my case with Salim. I couldn't do that to her.

Instead, a more ethical plan surfaced. A few days later, I found myself standing before Salim once again, this time with a new proposition. "Salim Bhai, I understand that your team is already complete. But let's consider a scenario. You guys will be away for quite some time and in a different location. What if Aarohi falls ill? Your earnings would be affected, right?"

I paused to let the implication of my words sink in, then continued, "What if I tag along as a backup singer? You'd only need to pay me for the days I actually perform. And I'll handle my own accommodation expenses."

Salim looked thoughtful, mulling over my suggestion. After a moment, he nodded. "You have a point, Vipin. That's actually a smart precaution. But, before anything else, I need to hear you sing. Can you do that for me?"

This was a prime opportunity. If I could impress him here, I might secure a regular spot in the team, which would both aid my finances and help me reach my goal.

I followed Salim and Aarohi into a room filled with various musical instruments. Although the harmonium is the only instrument I can play, my perfect pitch could help me get by with a guitar given enough time. However, I didn't want to risk it, so I decided to stick with an acapella performance.

"So, any specific song you'd like to hear?" I asked, but Salim didn't offer any suggestions.

"Alright, then. I'll be performing my rendition of Raag Malhar. I hope it resonates with you," I responded, wanting to leave a memorable first impression.

[Garaj Garaj Jugalbandi Video Song | Bandish Bandits | Farid Hasan, Mohammed Aman | Amazon Original]

I removed my shoes, placed the harmonium in front of me, and took a seat. The room was dimly lit with just a single small window allowing light to pour in, which was now blocked by my form.

The room was steeped in an eerie silence, the anticipation hanging palpably in the air. Taking a deep breath, I began. My voice, rich and resonant, wove the opening strains of the raag into the room's ambience.

"Garaj Garaj Aaj Megh Ghanan Ghanan Chayo Re." The notes flowed like a river coursing its way.

Salim stood in the shadows, his arms folded across his chest, eyes closed, his face impassive as he listened. As my voice climbed higher, his rigid stance softened, replaced with an unexpected gentleness.

"He's really owning it," he murmured to himself. Beside him, Aarohi watched me, utterly mesmerized.

The song rose to a crescendo, my voice resonating with a power that held the room in rapture. The melody, embodying the rumble of thunder and the yearning for rain, weaved its way around them.

With every note that escaped my lips, I felt a connection to the music that ran deeper than anything I had ever experienced. I could feel my heartbeat aligning with the rhythm, my pulse echoing the melody.

Salim cast a glance at Aarohi, a look of surprise flickering across his face. "How come I never heard of him before?" he asked, his voice coarse with disbelief.

Aarohi, flashing a beaming smile, responded, "I didn't even know he could sing. He always played the harmonium in classes but never sang."

As I held onto the final note, the skies seemed to respond to my call. Thunder echoed, shaking the room, followed by the soothing rhythm of rain pattering against the windows.

Over the sound of nature's applause, Aarohi turned to Salim, "Isn't this incredible, Salim?"

Salim looked out the window at the rain, then back at me, still poised under the spotlight, basking in the room's adulation. A rare smile graced his lips. "Yes..."