I began my schooling at the Air Force school in Jalahalli, Bengaluru, in the mid 1950s under the tutelage of an Anglo Indian teacher, which perhaps accounts for my diction and acquired accent. We moved to Secunderabad for a couple of years, but I was back in Jalahalli for a second tenure.
The early ‘60s exposed us to the refreshing Western culture of pop music and tuning in to the programme, The choice of the people broadcast from Radio Ceylon became a part of our daily routine. In those growing up years, two sisters arrived with their parents from the US of A. Soon, they became a part of our gang of friends, regaling us with their exotic experiences abroad. What left us amused, and in awe, was the younger sister singing, Stupid Cupid, Connie Francis style, and with a twist, to boot. I quickly learnt to imitate her singing and dancing to put on a show for my friends at school. That’s when I recieved applause for my ‘perfect imitation skills’ from my friends, for the first time.
Grade 8 took me to the Central School in Avadi, in erstwhile Madras. I continued singing unabashedly whenever a demand was made on my talent. There was my classmate, Swaroopini, who had the voice of a nightingale. She was training in Hindustani classical and in Carnatic music.
Of course, I learnt to imitate her as well but my Hindi was anglicised. ‘Cute’, they called it, but never criticised. Then one fine day, there was an inter-school music competition and they chose Swaroopini and me to represent our school. Both of us were to sing in Hindi. As usual, I quickly learnt a song in Hindi. She did a perfect rendition of Kuhu, kuhu bole koyalia. With its four ragas, it was not the easiest of songs to sing but she conquered it.
When I began to sing O Basanti, I sensed a really cheerful vibe from the audience, and I crooned on enthusiastically. When I was done, to my utter surprise, I recieved a standing, and thunderous, ovation. I couldn’t believe it.
When the results were announced, Swaroopini was right at the top with the first prize. I was nowhere in the running. On our way home, I told our teacher, who had accompanied us, that from the audience’s reaction, I thought I’d also win a prize. “Oh”, he said, “you were such a comic relief!”
I didn’t understand that statement in totality back then but on hindsight I can see now: I must have been one funny, gutsy girl!