I wake up with a hangover. I check to see the contents of my phone. No embarrassing pictures, no drunken texts to anybody. Thank god. I remember playing M's telecaster, jamming with the guys on a new song they've been working on for the last couple of weeks. I am surprised by how much I've grown over these last few years, quite quickly in fact. I think of the young starlet and her desperation to fit in, to be accepted. I feel bad for her since I've never had to go through a phase of not being liked by anybody. That's probably because I've been serious and humble all my life. I don't do the page-3 scene. I have talent, like many others. But what I have more than others is probably self-respect, when it comes to my work. I want to reach out to her, sit her down and advice her to pick up the pieces and turn her life around. But I don't think she'd like that very much. Sometimes you have to let people learn from their own mistake, you cannot guide everybody all the time.
I don't understand arrogance, what causes some people to be so incredibly proud of having achieved so little. It turns me off. I guess I'm allowed to be a snob about these things because I've seen and worked with greats from a really young age and when you grow up watching someone like Amyt Dutt and Jivraj Singh play, you realise how inconsequential your achievements really are. You are a great big nothing in comparison. What's so inspiring about all these greats is their humility, their grace. I am in awe of them, I want to emulate them somehow. I feel grateful to be surrounded by all these individuals who I have so much to learn from.
I crib about my daily struggles to someone who's produced all the greatest bands and artists you've probably heard. Starting from Jerry Garcia to Nirvana to Radiohead. When people like that advice you, guide you, you have a tremendous amount of pressure on your back to do something with your life instead of fooling around. I guess grace is something that people from other cities will never know. But I think of how me and my friends are at a juncture where people are starting to take us seriously. It's intimidating, their expectations. I'm not a wonder kid with spunk anymore, I need to engage women and the youth to think and practise thinking instead of taking what they have for granted.
On my way to the restroom, I see a bunch of kids sitting around, whispering excitedly as they see me pass. I hear someone murmur my name. How do they know my name? They seem to be in awe. I glance at them, I expect they're looking at me because I look hot (got to pull out a few sexy tricks out of the bag once in a while to stay relevant!) but that is not the case, they give me the 'Oh there goes Suyasha
didi' vibes. I am flattered and quite amused. I also feel responsible all of a sudden. I should be able to influence these kids, teach them the importance of being humble and hardworking.
I need to work harder. I need to be more dedicated perhaps.
My band has been in the spotlight since the release of our debut album but that's really nothing if you think about it. I have my body of work on record and I am proud of it, definitely. Yet somehow it is not enough.
I have been working harder since the release of the album. Exploring new genres and styles, trying to create more music, better music.
I am excited about the new projects that I've been working on. The harder I work, the more I practise, the more self confidence I seem to have. The line between confidence and arrogance is a thin one. My reality check comes when people I've grown up idolising want to play music with me. It feels strange, almost like I high. But it's a scary feeling.
"What if I play wrong chords?"
"What if I sing off-key?"
"What if I can't deliver?"
I ask M if I can play his guitar. He brings out his amp instead of poking fun at me. We exchange guitars and he teaches me to play his song and I sing along as he plays one of his older tunes. He's the sweetest guy you'll ever meet if you can get past his obnoxious outer layer. I love how he's so incredibly sweet to people he likes and such a bitch to people he doesn't. There is so much to learn from him. People need to cut him some slack I think, especially those who don't know him or have never hung out with him.
This Calcutta clan is tight as ever, almost like a family now. I am one of the youngest in the brat pack and I love every minute of it. I feel safe, protected. This is something that I have been craving for for a long time now-acceptance for who I am, without having to pretend.
I had very predictable reactions of my set from those who came in last night. The audience loved it, that's not the point though. The audience will love anything as long as you play from your heart. That isn't even a criteria for me anymore. But I've still got to fine tune, smoothen the creases. There's so much work still left.
I want to work my ass off these next two months and then take a vacation, which I am hoping will involve some drugs. I need to squeeze some sex in there as well, I don't know how but I have to. I have two frickin months to find someone I like and want to have sex with. That's the one thing I need to keep me rooted, down on the ground.
Sex really is my biggest stress buster. I have said this many times before, I am a very sensual person by nature. When I'm writing a song or playing a gig or even practising, it is like fornication for me. It is sacred, the experience is deeply personal. I guess that's why I am so attracted to music, it's basically like fucking for me.
Anyway, two months to find a new squeeze. Challenge to self accepted.
