‘Actually, we are desperate. We need three singers and we found only two. My
boss gave me the job of finding the third singer. So, my appraisal depends on
you.’
‘Who are the other two singers?’
‘They are a bit known. So, the third one has to be fresh to balance things out.’
‘Who?’
‘hariharan and S.P. Balasubramanium,’ I said.
Aunty’s mouth fell open. She stood up and left the room. I followed her into the
kitchen. ‘Aunty, it is no big deal. It isn’t a public concert.’
Aunty answerd by placinga frying pan on the stove and poring oil in it. Once
the oil heated uo, she tossed in mustard seeds and curry leaves. A pungent smell
filled the kitchen. I coughed twice.
‘See, this is what I do all day. I cook, I don’t perform. I am an amateur. I can’t
even sit in front of Hariharan and S.P., let alone share the same stage.’
‘It’s fun night, not a competition. They sing after you.’
She tossed chopped onions in the pan. My eyes burned along with my throat.
“aunty, have you ever performed on stage before?’
‘No. OK, yes, a couple of times in the Tamil Sangam events where Ananya’s
father was posted. But his, five-star hotel, high-society, Hariharan....You’ve got
Hariharan, why do you need me?’
‘Only professionals will make it too commercial. We want to give our clients a
family feel. A casual vibe will be nice,’ I said.
Aunty shook her head. I continued to convince her until she had prepared the
evening dinner of tomato rasam, lemon rice and fried bhindi. I had followed the
recipe and could now make rasam from scratch. However, I still didn’t have her
on board.
‘Why are you doing this? I accepted you apology, didn’t i?’
‘that’s not why I am doing it.’
‘Then why?’ She covered the dishes with plates.
‘I am doing this because I think you are a good singer.’
nora
(Nora)
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