I always had musicians in my band having children, and their wives were the ones at home taking care of the kids. So I never thought much of it. And then suddenly I'm the parent, but I'm the woman, and it's like, 'Ah, what happens now?'
Writing can flow out when I'm feeling something strongly, whether that's joy, pain, fear, desire or anything else. The challenge is actually later, in the second or third or 100th draft of the music, when it can be so easy to cover up the original sentiments by making the music more ornate or cloaked.
Occasionally, if I'm in doubt over specific Indian classical or raga-related questions, I'll find myself going back to my lesson tapes or my father's recordings.
Some of the more intensive scrutiny when I was first starting out definitely used to be tough to handle; I was only a teenager, yet was being analysed in newspapers world over, often by people who already had a strong opinion about my privilege before hearing me play.
However, I need to make music that represents my inner truth and inner voice. I've found myself more able to do that within an international space that has an Indianness at its root but branches out to encompass sounds and cultures across borders.
'Acceptance' is a tricky word. Acceptance about what life is bringing us in a spiritual sense is one thing; but acceptance when there's injustice in the world is completely another.
Parenting put music in the right place for me. Touring was always the first priority before, but it isn't any more. And, paradoxically, that has made my ability to make music much easier.
Listen with an open ear is the first, most important thing to do. From there, if people feel like learning more, that's when you can kind of go deeper.
I just felt drawn towards the kind of music that really needed a strong female presence female writers, female producers, female figures and that just kind of unfolded on its own.