Why I Sing

"When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother,
 'What will I be?'
 What will I be?
 What will I be?

At 6, right after singing 'Country Roads' on stage, I told my dad that I wanted to be a singer.
He hugged me.
8 years later, after numerous shuffles from wanting to be a teacher, a painter, a stamp collector, a librarian, an author, a sharp looking business woman,  I told him again, " Dada, I want to be a singer"
He didn't hug me this time.
At 14, I was a chubby teenager who had no friends. But I had a stereo, and it played Avril Lavigne's ' 2007 album, 'Best Damn Thing', over and over, until I could sing every note and rap every word.
At 15, I agreed with mum and concluded that a singing career is frivolous and risky. So I decided to ace tests ( and I did). But secretly I would spend roughly all day singing.  Mostly Shania Twain and Taylor Swift. Yes, I had a Taylor Swift phase. And no, I'm not that good. I'm okay. But singing made me happy. So I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. See, when you spend a year with depression, ANY form of happiness seems addictive. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Lets talk about the real thing here.
So I have this habit. Ever since I was a kid, I used to sing while we traveled.
 Now picture a 21 year old girl riding a bike, in her extra large purple helmet, rapping aggressively to Eminem's ' Not Afraid'.
Needless to say, I look fucking stupid..
 When my first 'equal -to-love' crush didn't know I existed, my insides broke. It was the real deal. I was 13. And it hurt like a bitch. That's the first time I cried because of a boy. (Ps- I may or may not still look you up on Facebook once in a while) So, I put on my earphones and sang along to Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls. I burnt my diary. It was all very dramatic.
As I grew older, I went out with a boy for the first time. I was 16 and I was in love. Why I went out with that boy, I'll never know. But yes, it ended in a manner where I had to cut the strings myself and sing 'Numb' to numb my pain. Linkin Park knows what they're talking about, okay? (Note to the boy:  You stupid. I'd thank you for the change in my personality, from a naive girl to a strong one, but no. That was all me. So , Fuck you and have a good life I guess?)
When I found love again, I sang 'God Bless the Broken Road'. Despite of how much love and respect we have for each other as friends, as a couple we never did work out. And we tried. So many times, that it started to hurt. So when it was time to take a call, we sang ' Falling Slowly' in front of a huge crowd.
When I decided that I can't afford to go through all that any more, I learnt to play the guitar.
And I sang yet again.
I sang when I graduated, and decided I want to be a rich psychologist.
I sang when I gave an entrance exam and didn't get through.
I sang when I gave an entrance and got through.
I sang when I moved to a new state.
I sang when I met the nicest girls I know.
I sang when I decided to leave the course because I hated it.
I sang when I was so unsure with my life.
I sang when irrelevant aunties took delight in asking my mother and me what it was that I was doing.
And all along, I had my mum and my dad telling me it was alright, despite the fact that I know how difficult it must be for them.
 So why do I sing?
I sing because when I'm up on stage with a mic, I feel an energy that radiates how I truly feel. And I feel alive.
I sing when I want to break your face, because if I don't sing to stay composed enough, I will break your face.
I sing when I have thoughts about giving up, when I don't want to talk to people.
When I lost my voice, a song found it ( that and some honey and ginger mix)
I sang songs because of which,today, I am more than okay with the fact that I will never really fit in.
I sang when I had no friends.
When I did, I sang with them.
They are beautiful people.
When I felt unpretty, I sang 'Stronger'.
And I felt like I was wonder woman, minus the big breasts.
I sing, because every song that I sang, made me.
Fleetwood Mac told me that I could go my own way.
And so I decided, I will do the one thing that makes me happy.
It is a constant source of my energy.
And I know my struggle may seem like a mockery now, but I will work hard enough to not end up where I started.
When I sing that fine day,
I will make it and I will take that bow.
And if not for a crowd, I will sing with my dad.  And man, that would make me very happy.

For now,
that is a reason, good enough for me to tell you why I sing.