9/5/2020
Dear Diary,
My frail, slender arms gracefully lifted my fingers off the keys. My body slowly detaching away from the piano, and the music faded away into the back of my mind where it was always to be remembered. As I got off the enormous stage, I stole one last glance at large structure at the far left of the stage. It sat there alone, expecting for another performer to awake it's senses, and use it up to it's potential. I turned my back and slipped past, the press, the crowd, and people. A swell of emotions were stuck in my throat waiting to let out; I cried my heart out , a sea of emotions drowning me, it was an overwhelming experience. Music is not a career, or a hobby to me. It goes beyond words to describe, otherwise I would have never been in a situation like that before. Music is my life. For that reason, I continue to play for the crowd, my family, and most importantly myself. Nothing will drag me down--disease is just motivation to stand tall when knocked on to the ground. Lacking a sense will never be a cause of me being impotent in the industry, because music is foreign for people who do not have sight or hearing. The fact that, a person with hearing aids like me can become a professional baffles many; however, music is feelings put into a form. Connecting with your piece is the most vital part to any performance, it is while adding the finishing touches it may seem insignificant, but it is of ample importance. It is what gives the piece the character. When a person can feel emotions coursing through their body, as they converge into one, there are no barriers in making music, it all depends on dedication you have towards your single perfect piece, which you are composing. For the many who ask--countless in fact--how do I articulate strong expressions into my piece without the ability to hear. The pressure I apply, the notes which I locate on the piano with my instincts is the core to my pieces. I cannot even listen to my own music, but I can fathom how it would sound.
For some reason, however hard I try there is a dark force drawing out my life, swallowing me up, which does not accede to me moving forward in life. Today was the last time I played on stage. I wanted continue to embark on my musical journey, but it is not an affable path. As I grew up the many adages which referred to talent giving an upper hand, made me aloof from time to time. I used to imagine myself on a grand stage, and a grand piano, and my life to be grand. I was an amenable child. I am immensely glad that my dreams are fulfilled; however disappointed by great measures as it is slipping under my fingers. It may seem as an arcane feeling, but everyone will strike at one point or another during their life--an appalling nightmare. It is a toxic game where the industry's caustic billionaires act callous, but are cunning foxes inside trying to suppress subordinates. That is what happened to me as well today. My audacious manager not longer employed me balking my musical journey ahead. He claimed that I would have stunted growth in my career. After all, I was deaf, and I am not even close to Beethoven. I was abashed.
A mix of emotions flooded my mind once again. His words were thorns cutting through my flesh. Music is my life, but it did not matter to him. All he cared about was money, money money. I could not fetch money, so just like the money he spent unnecessarily for his dirty pleasures I went down the drain as well. That is what I think. The world thinks music and deaf are antonyms, but the deaf know that we can hear to. Music to the deaf is a feeling; it is warmth. I decided today, that I will fight for what I believe in. Till yesterday my music was abstract, wayward. It sounded great, but did not have a purpose. From now on it is for my voice to be heard; it is my right.
My frail, slender arms gracefully lifted my fingers off the keys. My body slowly detaching away from the piano, and the music faded away into the back of my mind where it was always to be remembered. As I got off the enormous stage, I stole one last glance at large structure at the far left of the stage. It sat there alone, expecting for another performer to awake it's senses, and use it up to it's potential. I turned my back and slipped past, the press, the crowd, and people. A swell of emotions were stuck in my throat waiting to let out; I cried my heart out , a sea of emotions drowning me, it was an overwhelming experience. Music is not a career, or a hobby to me. It goes beyond words to describe, otherwise I would have never been in a situation like that before. Music is my life. For that reason, I continue to play for the crowd, my family, and most importantly myself. Nothing will drag me down--disease is just motivation to stand tall when knocked on to the ground. Lacking a sense will never be a cause of me being impotent in the industry, because music is foreign for people who do not have sight or hearing. The fact that, a person with hearing aids like me can become a professional baffles many; however, music is feelings put into a form. Connecting with your piece is the most vital part to any performance, it is while adding the finishing touches it may seem insignificant, but it is of ample importance. It is what gives the piece the character. When a person can feel emotions coursing through their body, as they converge into one, there are no barriers in making music, it all depends on dedication you have towards your single perfect piece, which you are composing. For the many who ask--countless in fact--how do I articulate strong expressions into my piece without the ability to hear. The pressure I apply, the notes which I locate on the piano with my instincts is the core to my pieces. I cannot even listen to my own music, but I can fathom how it would sound.
For some reason, however hard I try there is a dark force drawing out my life, swallowing me up, which does not accede to me moving forward in life. Today was the last time I played on stage. I wanted continue to embark on my musical journey, but it is not an affable path. As I grew up the many adages which referred to talent giving an upper hand, made me aloof from time to time. I used to imagine myself on a grand stage, and a grand piano, and my life to be grand. I was an amenable child. I am immensely glad that my dreams are fulfilled; however disappointed by great measures as it is slipping under my fingers. It may seem as an arcane feeling, but everyone will strike at one point or another during their life--an appalling nightmare. It is a toxic game where the industry's caustic billionaires act callous, but are cunning foxes inside trying to suppress subordinates. That is what happened to me as well today. My audacious manager not longer employed me balking my musical journey ahead. He claimed that I would have stunted growth in my career. After all, I was deaf, and I am not even close to Beethoven. I was abashed.
A mix of emotions flooded my mind once again. His words were thorns cutting through my flesh. Music is my life, but it did not matter to him. All he cared about was money, money money. I could not fetch money, so just like the money he spent unnecessarily for his dirty pleasures I went down the drain as well. That is what I think. The world thinks music and deaf are antonyms, but the deaf know that we can hear to. Music to the deaf is a feeling; it is warmth. I decided today, that I will fight for what I believe in. Till yesterday my music was abstract, wayward. It sounded great, but did not have a purpose. From now on it is for my voice to be heard; it is my right.
Anandi
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