Category: tradition

A journey through singing

Music has always been a way for people to create meaningful connections. However, when you learn to sing or perform as opposed to simply listening, it has another depth to it which cannot be experienced otherwise. According to my parents, I have been singing for almost my whole life. They say that when I was a toddler, I would run around the house singing songs of my own childish language. Of course, nobody really understood what I was saying, but they simply nodded along in agreement to my profound “lyrics”.

When I began kindergarten, I remember sitting on the bus with my friend and singing together. Though we would sing completely different songs, we were attempting to mimic the music our bus driver played on the radio. As a 6 year old, I had already begun to feel a love for music. 

Throughout my childhood, as well as now, I was engrossed in Hindi film music through my parents’ love for it. Though I never really understood the plot of the Hindi movies, there was never a moment when I did not enjoy listening to the dramatic love songs sung in my beautiful mother tongue.

Later, I was encouraged to join my fourth grade choir club in school, where I learned songs all the way from Christmas carols, to Korean folk songs, to pop songs.

When my parents noticed my interest for singing, they enrolled me into a Hindustani classical singing class. At the time, I was ten years old and it can be said that the only thing I really cared about was my Nintendo DS. Needless to say, I went into the class assuming it would be boring, seeing as it wasn’t Hindi film music. For a while, it was all scales and simple songs. I reached several points at which I considered asking my mom to quit. However, the day came when I was sick and ended up missing a session. To make up the class, I had to join “the big girls” for one hour. I did not know what to expect, and I was nervous as to what the older girls would think of me. 

As soon as I walked into the room, I was mesmerized by how confident they were, how eloquently they went through the warm ups, how easily they were able to memorize a song, and the smooth yet precise way their voices flowed. But what truly caught my eye, was how they were enjoying themselves. At that moment, I realized that singing wasn’t just something I liked to listen to, it was something which I wanted to have as a lifelong skill; something which I wanted to enjoy and pride myself with. I wanted to be known as one of “the big girls”.


More recently, I attended my first Hindustani classical music concert for Pandit Jasraj, a renowned Hindustani classical music singer. I will admit, my parents may have been involved in forcing me to go to the concert, but the experience was well worth it. Prior to the concert, I remember feeling the lack of excitement which I had felt during the early years of learning to sing. I childishly argued that if I already knew about the art form from my own teacher, then why did I need to go see someone else do the same? That in itself was the answer to my question. 


During Pandit Jasraj’s performance, I was in awe to see what I had been learning in my class be executed so gracefully. His voice and skill is like no other I have heard before. I was able to listen to and identify the variations and details of his songs which I had struggled to grasp during classes with my teacher. Pandit Jasraj’s performance gave me the final push in understanding that my love for singing goes beyond the way it sounds; rather it goes into the way I am able to build and improve. It is about enjoying the work I put into building such a skill. 


Finally, I am proud to say that I am now one of “the big girls”. I love learning the meanings of lyrics. I love hearing improvement in my voice. I love understanding the history behind what I am singing. And I know that this is just the beginning. 

Naina Waghray is a jersey girl and junior in Montgomery High School. She loves to sing. Her other passion is running that she enjoys with her buddies at school all through the year in the central Jersey countryside.

Memory and nostalgia

Memory, nostalgia are a part of food.

A part of the socio-psychological infrastructure of a community is it’s food practices and rituals. The rituals, mores related to it, have a binding quality. At the same time these are the reason for oppression in many ways. But how are they oppressive? Let’s break it down in a way where one can dissect and examine it.

Food is an integral part of a life as it provides the nutrition needed but also a social fact wherein it is consumed in an environment that has the companions, significant others that participate in the process. If ready food is bought as compared to being cooked in a household, it has an easy albeit a monetary value but is also a matter of affordability and can be seen in two ways. If you can afford to buy optimal, nutritious and good food, then you belong to the high income economic bracket. If you are unable to buy it but instead buy sub-optimal, low on nutrition, cheap food then you belong to the low income category. There are variations to this which can be explained but that is another write-up.

Food when associated with a household kitchen and is cooked for meals each day, interrupts lives on a daily basis and this interruption is something of an ongoing challenge that can be examined closely. It is in a sense oppressive as one is always having to think of food for the self, for the offspring and maybe a partner if that is available. First it is about tastes, likes and dislikes of all the people mentioned; and next, it is about tradition that may or may not be healthy and third, it is about preparation- which is all work with a set agenda. This is an interruption because it keeps one away from engaging in otherwise useful pursuits. (And yes, there is an argument to be made for making this interruption a useful pursuit in and of itself).

Some of the tropes that come to mind while growing up are stories around food, festivals, rituals, ways of life that are still the binding factor for families and communities. Food is about the nostalgia and at the same time a battleground for oppression.

Malini Waghray is the founder, editor, immersive researcher and developer at Choosing Wellness.