A couple of weeks after the TEDIndia conference in Mysore, a man named Kiruba called me and asked if I would like to speak at the TEDx Chennai event. I immediately refused. I'm not good at speaking, I thought. I've never done anything like that before, and more importantly, what would I speak about?? I had no idea. But Kiruba kept pressing, kept calling, and kept motivating me to speak. And finally, after a LOT of persuasion, I agreed. I agreed to speak for five minutes followed by a short performance.
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I’m not here to talk about social programs, or women’s rights, or anything I’ve invented. I’m not going to try and promote anything or sell anything. All I can offer you is a story about my journey.
Almost 5 years ago, I got “The Call.” I feel like everyone, at some point or another, gets a call that changes their life. For me, that call came at two o’clock in the afternoon on June 9, 2004. My doctor told me that the cells they had removed from my neck were indicative of Lymphoma. Now, you have to understand that I was a typical 21 year old college student – the world revolved around me, I was a self-proclaimed hippy; making my own clothes, cutting my own hair, eating organic food, (I’m from California, if you haven’t already guessed)… I had no idea what Lymphoma meant. I had never known anyone who had had cancer. He told me I would have to move home and go through treatment. My response was “Can I do it here? Because like, I’m enrolled in summer classes and like, I really want to hang out with my friends this summer.” He said… “You probably won’t be taking classes this summer.”
So I looked it up immediately. I didn’t know what to think or how to react. I just remember holding my breath for a really long time. I didn’t know how to tell my parents, and I couldn’t do it for a couple of weeks. I figured hey, the doctor’s could be WRONG, right? I only told my mother after the results came in from my second biopsy at which point it was confirmed that I had Stage 2A Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.
The following six months of chemotherapy and radiation involved a whirlwind of infusions, injections, medications, steroids, transfusions and a lot of other fun stuff that probably doesn’t need mentioning. During the long hours that I spent in bed, on my back, staring at the ceiling, and with the aid of some really strong medication, I started to feel panic. This can’t be it, I would think. There’s so much that I want to do. There’s so much I haven’t done. I haven’t left my mark.
What began as an incredibly dire situation, actually ended up doing me a whole lot of good. All of a sudden I felt motivated to do things I had never done before. It’s amazing how we react when we realize we’re running out of time.
I started painting – and the paintings that I created during this time are my absolute favorite. I started experimenting with photography. I taught myself how to play the guitar. I started composing classical music as well as popular music. I remember at one point I ran up to my mother and said “Mom! I’m going to write a THESIS.” And she said “that’s nice, but about what?” And I said “I have no idea, but I’M GONNA WRITE ONE!” I was sick during the 2004 presidential elections and instead of reacting in a surface level, hippy-esque, peace rally type of way, I actually tried to understand the ideas, the concepts, the motivations behind the candidates. I learned how to cook well and make food look beautiful.
I returned to university in 2005 to finish my music degree. Because the radiation treatment I had was directly on my neck and lungs, I really had no idea whether I would be able to sing again. The doctors didn’t know either. But I had to try.
In 2005 I auditioned and was admitted to L’academie de Musique Tibor Varga for a summer program commemorating the 250th anniversary of Mozart’s birth. The same year I joined the Intimate Opera Company in Los Angeles and was a chorus member in the comic opera Trial By Jury. In 2006 I mixed and produced my first cd which is now available on iTunes and Rhapsody online. The same year I was admitted to The Boston Conservatory to earn my graduate degree in Vocal Performance. In 2007 I co-founded a non-profit organization called Uplifted: Art Perpetuating Hope. We put on our first event that year which involved art galleries, dramatic monologues, photography galleries, and classical as well as popular music – the prerequisite being that all of the art involved had to represent or promote an aspect of social change or hope for a better future. In 2008 I met a man named “Guitar Prasanna” – those of you who are into Carnatic music probably know of him. He’s this crazy eclectic man who plays Carnatic music and jazz on electric guitar. He had worked with A.R. Rahman on the score for the film Lagaan a few years prior. After doing a concert with Prasanna, he recommended me for a position at AR’s music conservatory here in Chennai. I am currently a vocal teacher, choir conductor and recording artist at KM Conservatory in Kodambakkam, Chennai. Since being here I’ve had the opportunity of working with AR on multiple projects, including singing an aria for Shekhar Kapur’s short film Passage. I sang the aria at the premiere of the film at the Venice Film Festival in September.
In 2009, I also became, a TEDFellow.
So why am I telling you all this? I’m telling you this because going through cancer treatment was ironically the most inspiring, and motivating factor in my life. It made me realize the true incredible capacity of human beings. We as people are capable of doing amazing things. We are capable of changing ourselves in the course of 6 months – and because of that, I know that we are capable of changing others, and ultimately, changing the world. Going to TED in Mysore was proof of the staggering talent and strength of the people we share the world with. The more I live, the more beauty I see in people, the more good I see in people, and the more I realize that all we want is to be happy – and a big part of happiness is fulfillment. So I urge you in whichever field you’re in, to use it in a way that affects people. Because the kind of fulfillment you get from affecting others, is limitless.---------------------------------------
And then, I sang. It was probably one of the WORST (and I mean WORST) performances of my life. Why? Well as you know, I'm not good at public speaking, so what I did would probably count more as public "reading." But because the topic at hand was so private, and so emotional, I felt a vulnerability so intense that I completely broke down during my speech. Not only was I a nervous wreck about speaking, but the topic itself made me quiver. Immediately after opening the flood gates, I had to sing, what is now becoming my signature aria, the "Laughing Aria" from the opera Die Fledermaus. I had asked for a piano for Andrew (my colleague and friend) to play, but the organizers could only come up with an electric keyboard - not even a full sized electric keyboard. To top it off, before I went up to speak, both Andrew and I had to go in for hair and makeup and they randomly gave him a mohawk. Yes. A mohawk. Why? No idea. But there was no time to complain.
Then to REALLY top it off... get ready for this... the electric keyboard's "piano" function wasn't working, so I sang the laughing aria to... drum roll please... weird carnival bell sounds. The whole performance was so ridiculous that I ended up having a whole lot of fun while simultaneously praying that no one would ever see that footage. So far, so good.
The response was very positive and I have Kiruba to thank for forcing me to step out of my comfort zone and take on a new challenge.
ON A HIGH NOTE
