Kavita Chhibber

I’m afraid to write this column right now. I’m in such an antagonistic, pessimistic mood that I’m really afraid of sending in something I’ll regret!

I’m cracking up-as in cracking, not laughing. I’m stressed and tired and cranky and confused. And writing this column seems impossible. At the time of writing, I haven’t had an hour of time off for about four weeks running. I’ve been on too many flights to count and my skin is so thirsty I want to bathe in milk and oil. I haven’t been home for more than 24 hours at a time in ages and there are three suitcases lying in my bedroom, half-unpacked from different trips. Professionally it’s been great and I’m thrilled at what I’ve had the opportunity to do, but sometimes I think I plan my life horribly. I need help!

I’ve been trying to figure what to write about and it all seems so trite and pointless. I want to write about wonderful India and the Slumdog furor, Indian Grammies and awards galore, but Mangalore and Mumbai won’t allow me to crow about our country. I want to share my joy at the wonderful things I’ve gotten to do this last month, yet that seems horribly insensitive in the face of everyone’s current economic woes. I’m happy, and I’m sad, excited and cynical, hopeful and afraid to be so. But perhaps the timing of all these international awards is great. With everyone so depressed it has been uplifting for India to have these things to celebrate.

So Zakir Uncle won a Grammy. No doubt, he’s one of the greatest musicians India ever has, or will produce, and we’ve all known that for decades. What exactly does this Grammy win prove? It’s no doubt something to celebrate, and we’re all happy for him (not to mention proud of him), but it doesn’t make him more of a genius than he already was. So why do people act as if that particular award somehow says or validates something about an artist?

The Grammy Awards are special. Being there, you definitely have the feeling that you’re at something unique, something major. There is hype about them being the world’s premier music award show, and being nominated and part of the process does feel fantastic. Both times I was nominated it was incredible fun, especially the second time as I got to perform at the Grammy Awards, and the excitement was definitely sky-high.

But perhaps I have a bit of a chip on my shoulder about the Grammy after all the fuss the year my sister swept the awards. That was an absolutely wonderful moment, and I was thrilled to also be nominated that year so I could be there and share that night with her. But when I came home, all I saw in the media was that somehow my losing and Norah’s winning proved which daughter was the better musician. It stung like you wouldn’t believe. Where’s the connection even, first to compare a jazz musician and a sitar player, but then to somehow imply that an award is a way to compare people in art? My sister had visited us in India years before then and my father took her everywhere, but the media didn’t care to notice his other daughter. Once she was famous however, everyone wanted to claim her as Indian. Funny, isn’t it?

It’s beautiful to see Rahman get the kind of global, high profile recognition he so richly deserves. I can’t say this is my favorite music of his, but he has been the soundtrack to our lives for years, and is one of the greatest composers Indian film cinema has ever had. Back when my father got his first two Grammies or was nominated for an Academy Award for Gandhi no one in India really paid as much attention as now. But it’s nice to see the support and excitement Rahman has generated in India.

To be honest, Slumdog overall has been a bit baffling. It’s a very, very good film and I may have liked it even more without the stratospheric expectations created by the hype. But I’m really confused as to why it’s swept global imagination the way it has or what makes it the best film of the year. Awards are always subjective, of course, but this case I’m honestly confused! I loved the child-actors, I thought they were incredible, and the editing was brilliant, the music was exciting, and overall it was a very entertaining story with fun new faces to watch. But I can’t say it swept me off my feet in any way, the way I almost wanted it to.

Most of the first year that I wrote this column, I wrote about myself. I knew I had been asked to write because of “who I am” (as trite as that sounds) and figured that meant writing about my life, my experiences, and any anecdotes not readily available in the media. By the second year of writing I started to become more comfortable sharing thoughts and opinions not necessarily related to my professional life, and really grew to enjoy the ways that has stretched me creatively. On beginning a third year, I just don’t have a clue which way to go forward. I can’t imagine that you still want to hear me blathering about myself as if I think I’m the bee’s knees? Unless what I say is funny, well-written or has some insightful, universal point, why would you want to read about me? It’s so easy for any of us to just live from our own points of view and in entertainment it’s dangerously easy to slip out of reality. Writing a column can be purely one-sided, coming from me, from me and from me! But what about the readers? Who are you, who’s reading this right now, and what are you thinking? What do you want? What would you find interesting if I continue writing? I invite advice, answers, opinions, and a direction forward.