Confessions Of A Bathroom Singer
In a way, the bathroom symbolises celebration, a celebration of temporary liberation from the mundane yet intensely responsibility-driven world. My first reaction to marking this celebration is to break into one of my favourite Hindi film numbers, with the accompanying sound of the running water, the bucket and the mug which serve as a loyal orchestra band.
The
bathroom in our lives provides just the right context as well as
space for expression of liberation. The moment we stand face to face
with our `stripped morality`, we experience a sense of deja
vu
to which only the objects surrounding us stand as mute witnesses.
This has been going on ever since we started taking bath on our own
behind shut doors. Paradoxically, the shut door opens up a peculiarly
free personality which lets go off the moment the clothes are allowed
to let go from the body.
Every person on the planet must be having his or her own
way of celebrating a brief solo existence on a daily basis inside the
bathroom. Away from the glaring and expectant eyes of people, one
feels connected to oneself through every dynamic that constitutes a
human being – physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual. In
the outer world – I mean in the one that dominates outside the
bathroom -- so many things about us get covered under the man-made
clothing of relationships and society's behavioural prescriptions.
But the bathroom, while technically is just a knob away, presents an
unique `so near yet so far` paradigm, for nobody would dare violate
the norms prescribed for people who are not part of the bathroom
drama.
In a way, the bathroom symbolises celebration, a
celebration of temporary liberation from the mundane yet intensely
responsibility-driven world. My first reaction to marking this
celebration is to break into one of my favourite Hindi film numbers,
with the accompanying sound of the running water, the bucket and the
mug which serve as a loyal orchestra band. For years now, I have been
a confirmed bathroom singer, never quite seriously considering
extending my musical talents to the professional world of singing,
perhaps because the liberating feeling that comes with straining your
vocal chords in the company of an intangible orchestra band would get
snatched away amidst the cacophony of human competition.
Over the years, my entry into the bathroom has held
greater significance than just a personal cleansing activity. It has
also served as an announcement to folks around my living area that I
am very much present amidst my fellow mortals, besides of course
providing them with unsolicited free entertainment (yes, some might
interpret it as a highly avoidable intrusion into their domain of
`chaotic peace`).
I have always treated the bathroom as a recording
studio, and therefore sing with gusto, fervour and sometimes,
melancholic melody, in the hope that some intense music lover or film
producer will get captivated and elevate my sole standing (or should
I say soul standing) from the bathroom to the larger stage where
people can rejoice in the new found talent baked for years inside
four resilient walls. The bathroom walls for so long have stood as
appreciative listeners (after all, as they say, walls too have ears),
never daring to give me feedback, perhaps because they too were
celebrating the feeling of liberation that resonated from within my
intensely rehearsed vocal chords. So, maybe it is divine will that is
preventing me from coming within the zone of film producers, as then
I would get exposed to the prying eyes and acidic hearts of so called
competitors. Sure, as you can see, I have an exaggerated opinion of
my singing talent and make no effort to hide the narcissistic
admiration.
All
in all, the bathroom for me offers the best solution to both pent-up
expression as well as aggression, as all you need to do when you are
down in life is to open the bathroom door, shut it behind you, and
drown your worries in the most divine of creations – Mr Water.
