Four Broken Strings

Chapter 5 | THE SPINSTRESS ARRIVAL

Copyright © Rubab Masuri. All Rights Reserved. 

 JANUARY 26, 2017

The studio is suffering from some intense cacophony today. We are in the middle of a recording with a band who are still hungover from the night before. Meaning they are wasting 'precious studio time' according to Maddy. The boys are drugged and tipsy can't get by as much as two minutes of smooth recording, and frankly, are quite a pain. It's only noon and I am getting a severe headache.

"You will need to work around this, they sound like piss," Maddy tells Kabir in the break. Kabir bobs his head dejectedly, with averted eyes, like some days he must also think his job sucks. "Let's see." He says, his standard answer to almost everything for which he does not want to take any responsibility. An ambiguous yet amiable reply, which leaves an obscure cloud between the present action and an unforeseeable future.

There are takes after takes after takes but we are unable to get a scratch.

Kabir is coaching the lead vocalist to get the right note.

Maddy looks as if he has smelled a dead lizard.

I have stopped playing altogether and watching a tutorial on YouTube. We will have to do it all again anyway. I take a seat beside Maddy and ask him when these wailing allies would leave. Unexpectedly, he cracks up and starts to appreciate my sense of humor, saying I have started talking like them, and says something about matching frequencies (supposed to be a pun). I think the same; I think that right now we are all on the same frequency –low.

"Do you guys have any idea that we are on a timeline here, this is not a party, this is serious. Need that... what you call that?" He takes a dramatic pause and calls out, "Teamwork!"

They are handed a rough mix, to listen to, at home or wherever they are planning to crash. According to Maddy that is basically a sign of indefinite delay, until we are done with other important projects. "I don't want to see their faces for the next three months," Maddy tells Paula, and complains to us in a grunt, "I need an aspirin!"

After a much-deserved coffee break, I am summoned to try out a riff with Kabir. He is crooning the syllables, his fingers gliding across the keyboard to work out a tune, resembling a veritable clerical officer while at it –the sort who sometimes hums songs while working. He punches keys, pauses to take a sip of coffee and resumes. Today is one of those days when you don't hear him speak, in terms of having a conversation that is. He would wear his headphones and zone out; work, break and repeat.

A covert perhaps.

The quietude is comfortable though. There are no stroppy glances or nervous laughs, just a lot of monosyllabic replies (when needed). I like the quietness. Gives me time to think, unthink, rethink, overthink and basically think so much that everything stops making sense after a while and someone (or something) would have to snap you back to life; like this commotion in the control room, must have been going on for a while but I just noticed now.

There are two ladies and kids. They are talking loudly and casually taking a stroll like they own the place.

I find out they do.

I wonder if I can call Rafae someday to visit the studio if he would ever want to that is. Meanwhile, we have stopped working as there is a cheerful family union going on at the studio. The younger-looking of the two is holding a baby boy looking almost a year old.

She transfers the baby to Maddy's arms before coming inside the recording room. She beams at Kabir, who is now near the door where she is. There are shouts of joy and he looks surprised to see her, and by the hug, I can tell they are more than friends. There is a wide smile on his face when he sees her, that spark in his eyes, the lovers smile.