Recording day is always exciting. It is scary and requires a great deal of preparation. I constantly check and recheck my end of things. I got up in the morning, with all the gear I needed already packed from the night before, then head out to the Institute of Sindhology.I got to Sindhology early for the day’s recording session. Staff came in, but the person who had the key to the recording studio, who had messaged me the night before to ask what time musicians were coming had not shown up. I had replied with the timing and he confirmed, but he was not there so we could not setup.About forty minutes later, the person who had the key arrived. I learned this by calling him again. He said he had given the key to someone who was bringing it upstairs. Being a person with many years of tv experience, working with musicians, I politely mentioned that as a media person, he should have come early or at least on time as he knew we had to setup. He told me it was not his problem and then hung up. That really made me angry.The level of unprofessionalism at the institution was ridiculous. People sat around all day watching tv, rather than doing any work in the media section. They spoke of the many great things they would do, if only the organization would approve their plans. When asked to do the slightest thing, several of them refused, or avoided the conversation by talking about how the people next door had so utterly wronged them that they would not take 10 steps to pick up a piece of equipment from the room next door or give me permission to do so, while the people next door said I needed that person’s permission.This organization receives a good deal of government funding every year. It is a testament to the hard work of people that have come before, that such an important institution even exists to focus on preservation and promotion of Sindhi culture. Yet as with all the institutions I see around me, they have become so mired in politics that they have largely become places where people sit during the day for a few hours to collect a regular paycheck before going off to their other source of income. Everyone had a long story about how they had been wronged and would love to work hard, but the institution had tied their hands. While from the very top of the institution, I was granted permission to use the facilities, with all proper channels followed, including filing paperwork and paying fees.So it was, that I sat there, at the mercy of so many, working on a project to promote Sindhi culture, at the institute whose purpose was that. With the door to the recording studio finally opened, the two recording engineers who were always on top of things, got to work setting up. We waited, and the first group of musicians arrived an hour late. Considering how short our recording times were at Sindhology, this really was not helping. The other singer that was supposed to come was nowhere to be seen.I called him and he had just woken up. This was kind of a big problem as he lived several hours from Jamshoro. Though he had been told over and over again to be here at 9 in the morning, he somehow had decided that I had said 9 at night. He drowsily got out of bed and Ustad Anb Jogi convinced him to hurry up and get to Sindhology.In the meantime we recorded the Shah Jo Raagis. They were incredible. They carry the traditional instrument (tambura or dambura) and singing style that accompanies Shah Latif’s poetry since the very beginning. Every night, at Latif’s darga in Bhitshah, one of the groups performs. I wanted to record them with a singer for the film’s opening. Since that portion was so short, I knew we could record an hour of material to support them.They came in and gave me two options. One was to sing in the high pitched style for which they were known, or there was a lower pitched method that I had not heard before. I liked the lower pitched version, but the high pitch version is the signature sound and I wanted a bit of that too. Ustad Anb Jogi, our music director worked with them on integrating the two forms. After a short preparation, they were ready to record. I had chosen the 4 main Surs used in Risalo and that is what they had prepared. They went through each piece, one after another with great precision. Each track was recorded in a single take. At the end, we had a bit of time left on the tape, so they performed Sur Husseini. The room was mesmerized. After each track, all we could do was express our awe.Rashid, the singer was still far away. The sitar player he had suggested, who called me the day before to ask what time the recording was had simply decided to go somewhere else and ditch this session without any notice. He had been so concerned that he wanted to get done in time to go to a darga where he was to perform. I had reassured him the night before that Ustad Anb Jogi was going there too, so if everyone just came on time, we could get things done by noon, allowing them to get to their evening performance with ease. Yet, somewhere in the night he decided to ditch the recording session and leave right away for the darga without a word.We recorded some short interviews with the Shah Jo Raagis and then I walked them to their car. Rashid had just arrived as they were leaving. The piece he was going to sing was short, so it was still possible for us to record in the time left, but things were tight. In the recording studio, we got to work setting up for his recording. We needed a string instrument to replace the sitarist who had bailed, so a local banjo player was enlisted at the last moment. He was on his way.Rashid needed a tanpura, so I downloaded an app on the iPad. My internet connection was painfully slow. Meanwhile the musicians discussed how the piece would come together. The banjo player arrived. Eventually the app downloaded. Then some well wishers of Rashid came in and started to make requests. I was told that I needed to let them have that, so I just asked the recording engineers to record it.Meanwhile, I was being constantly pressured regarding time. Although overtime had apparently become possible the week before, it was not any more. With time running out, I went to beg for additional time at the main office. Before getting to the office, I had to deal with the museum door keeper. He insisted that it was impossible, along with the person in charge of the recording studio who walked me to Mangi sahib’s office. With great reservation and some insistence from the well wishers of the singer, I could get some additional time.We went back up, and the piece was still going. I told them I needed to record the piece for the film. They said I needed to wait for that piece to finish. So I sat, once again wondering why each of these things needed to be such a challenge. Eventually, the piece ended and we got started on my work. The first lines went fine. From the third line onwards, it was clear that Rashid was reading the script for the first time. He tried to cover this with a lot of classical singing embellishments, but you can’t hack a line to bits and still keep it coherent. I was at a loss. There were constant calls about wrapping things up quickly. The musician in front of me was very skilled, but had not bothered to prepare at all, though he had the script for weeks and we scheduled the recording session according to his convenience.It was all too much. I was so angry, and yet, I needed to fend off all these different issues and somehow get the performance I needed out of someone who had trouble with each line. I had to bring my laptop over after each line and playback the Sindhi recording of that line of the script for him each time. There would be no clean flow of music. It was all chopped to bits and then chopped some more by his performance. I asked him why he had thought so little of his murshid (Shah Latif, as he had claimed) that he did not bother to practice. That he would come here to sing Sindh's and his apparently most beloved poet’s work without preparing surely meant he regarded it as trash.So we recorded something. It was painful and not very good. I was enraged by all the politics and nonsense. From who has jurisdiction on what, to musicians not preparing or coming anywhere near on time, to the session being a free concert with requests, to the intense pressure to wrap things up immediately. What was the point? What was the purpose of the institution again? Besides the two recording engineers, Zulfi and Zuhaib, my good friend Saqib and our music director, I could not rely on anything else. Saeed Mangi sahib had been kind enough to grant me permission to record, but what went on in the institution was my misery to deal with.I paid overtime as we left, as I had said from the start. The employee at the museum door was happy for his ten dollars. If there was ever a question as to why the institutions were in a state of decline, the answers was clear as day now. I felt pretty devastated. Though I had done everything in my power to prepare and plan, it seemed all was undone by so many factors beyond my control. This would be a major bite out of my budget and worse than that, I could not use this garbage in the film. The Shah Jo Raagi recordings were great, but that was not part of the film. It was for an additional album meant to support them.I spoke to Ustad Anb Jogi, and told him that if this was how difficult the shortest chapter was, we may not be able to record the longer pieces. He reassured me that we would make this work. I did not feel very confident.Everyone left. Saqib dropped me off and hung out for a bit. I felt finished. The day had been challenging for all the wrong reasons. Now I needed to somehow strengthen my resolve, reconnect to why I was here and make plans to try and avoid the challenges I had just faced and been defeated by all whilst convincing myself that I should. In the evening, I visited friends for a bit of a mental break and some ludo.