As a kid, have grown up in our very own Indian joint family setup. Some of us would know in a while, what I’m talking about.

In my recent visit to my hometown, very often past midnight (two-ish), you could hear clearly, my grandma calling aloud my aunt and there seem to be no response to her midnight alarms. Actually, my folks here pretend of having not heard the old lady, because once you reply, she goes on to talk about some unknown person (somebody who does not exist). It’s the hippocampus region of the brain that has deteriorated with age, you see. None would like to entertain this sleep-talking at that time of the night. She is only 97 btw and yes you read it right.

In another portion of the house, my elderly aunt (this is another one) and her caretaker start their day at 4: 00 am in the morning with their really early morning tea and then catching up on the unfinished talks of the previous night, reaching a point of being oblivious of everything around - always ready to disturb others sleeping on the other side of the wall. Note: I visit home once in a year and obviously do not intend to compromise on the quality of my slumber, for this at least. Many a times, how have I wished to crush a mild dose of a sedative with milk at night, so that they get to wake up directly for the brunch. Atleast people around can rest peacefully till morning...

Every day, the vegetable vendor's voice rises in pitch to initiate an extremely suffocating irritable syndrome in me. Is there a medical terminology for this syndrome? The cross talks - my mom from inside the kitchen and the vendor selling veggies yelling from the street - they have developed their own vernacular ... O yes, and you got to buy something from him, else he just wouldn’t let you take the next breadth. He keeps shouting till he has got the attention of the the entire neighborhood to memorize all the vegetables he has in his basket cart today.

The clamor of the neighbour's kids at play - right in front of my verandah. An amateur singer trying his luck every day when he tries to sing along the song playing in the tape recorder - rasping and croaking! O yeah, the song is none other than "tu hai meri kiran, Jadoo teri nazar" ... that comes from the tenants area ... I’d rather throw on him a Jhadoo (a broomstick) Can someone give me a break ... Year after year, I hear the same songs and I have been patient. Dude, you feel, It’s your forte? It’s a complete NO-NO. There's many more and I could just go and on...

So, technically speaking have grown up with increased tolerance to adjust myself to people who are noisy, yet fun. ;) If it wasn’t, I wouldn't be jotting them when the world around me is dozing.

Few days back...

My kitchen balcony overlooks the road. Quite often, I enjoy a road peep looking out for my son’s favorite lab pup "Optimus" who is high on the trait of excessive barking and usually found walking with loose leash. Push cart vendors selling anything from fruits, vegetables and flowers shouting back and forth in the local language - their voices are noisy and many a times comes across as peevish and annoying. And yes, the noise pollution our roads have to offer. So practically, its noise everywhere. And that’s how “it was" and "is" for me ... Yesterday and Today !! But I guess I’ve got used to it now.

Even as I stood looking outside the window, enjoying the nip in the air - with sudden shower of rain on and off in the city, my eyes ran across few school-going toddlers impatiently waiting for their bus and shared auto, and one of them almost in tears and firm in his resistance, refusing to go to school. His mum was trying all she could to fix this, right there. I get to see these scenes many a times in the morning, how I feel sorry for these tiny ones. Also, Right across the street, there stood two cute-looking kids (I see them often ride their bicycles on the streets) dressed in their school uniform, typically around six years. One could clearly hear their jibber-jabber. It was really sweet. Those chit-chatting on the topics of those conversations that cover a wide spectrum, you understand that, don't you? The kiddish talk types, you know!! They were busy conversing with their mom. By the way, my house is on the G-floor.

Having been standing there for quite some time now, my focus changed even as I heard a rumbling bubbling noise on the stove. I rushed inside the kitchen to find myself JIT (just in time) to "knob off" the tea from overflowing. Even as I poured the tea into the cup, suddenly there was the deep voice of a man yelling in Hyderabadi Hindi, coming from the side of my kitchen balcony. I almost jolted in front, spilling my tea, quite upset on the one who disturbed the early morning serenity.

There was this quite an elderly GENTLEMAN in his night suit - I remember smiling at him many a times, the grandfather of these cute looking kiddos. Looked as if he woke up from the wrong side of the bed. When I saw the scene out there, I exclaimed “A roaring lion ready to devour". Yeah, I did.

Walking back and forth, he burst into a torrent of foul-mouthed abuses, shouting at the top of his voice, calling that "someone" all the names under the sun. He was so furious that I thought he would surely thrash the “someone” he's looking for and I earnestly wanted him to just relax or wished if someone could calm him right away. For a moment, I wished if I could change that one thing today, was to wake up really late and miss on those vulgar language usage of this man. I seriously wouldn’t want to hear them EVER ... nobody should hear it!!! And moreover these tiny kids..... The innocent ones!!! How could even someone do this in front of them? Why couldn’t someone understand such basic logic and etiquette?

He held a thick wooden staff and kept knocking the front and the rear wheels of the car which was wrongly parked in front of his main gate. He kept showing the "No parking” board to the people around. Yeah the only people were the kids and their parents. They looked shocked and fearfully worried. In no time, I saw him asking these two kids (his grandchildren) to call aloud the owner of the car. I kept staring incredulously at that man who had just proved of his inadequacy of being called as a "Gentleman". I would rather have him addressed as just a man.

Adding to it, not to my surprise anymore, the sweet voices of these little kids echoed out those EXACT - SAME TO SAME nasty words just spoken out a few seconds earlier by their grandfather. I could take it no long. Their age would hardly be six years. Immediately, without further instructions, all three of them, let all the air out of the tires of the parked vehicle and the mother kept watching quietly. She looked pretty alright with everything. As soon as this scene was over, I saw him taking out his bike and vanishing away in anger. The two little kids in action soon jumped into the bus which had just arrived.

This noise was no fun!!!

Yesterday...

Morning breaks and yet again some unusual noises has overshadowed the quietness of dawn. Today its the noises of wailing and weeping, coming right across the street. I stood concerned and wanting to inquire what this bawling was about, called for an unknown someone standing downstairs below my balcony. I was said that the eldest brother of the family passed away in sleep, the previous night. His folks got to know about it a couple of hours back. I saw quite a crowd; in front of their home, an elderly lady and two sons who were inconsolable were the ones I already knew. And I guessed it right!!!

The old man of my story had passed away. Even as he lied in his last linens amid grieving and mourning of family and friends, I realized how short life can be. Here today and gone tomorrow. Even as I stood there silently watching this, my heart sank. I wasn’t liking what I watched, neither did I like what I heard today. Electric chills rode down my backbone. I was feeling almost cold. I felt pain in my brain - the keening wail kept hitting hard and soon I felt the emotion behind this noise. I did not like the noise.

Right there, I heard someone whispering in my ears. "A time to weep, a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance; A time to hate and a time to love". But when is there a time for hating? I did not hate him; I just hated what he did. I didn't know if I loved "Noise" as before. Why this sudden aversion towards it?

Today...

With a mug of coffee and all smiles, I knew it’s a beautiful morning. Yesterday is past, today is a brand new day. All things bright and beautiful, I kept humming a known hymn.

On the adjacent apartment, a couple and their little son had just moved in. Saw him doing a lot of screaming and verbal stimming. Autistic kid, I said to myself...

No, No guys this story is for another day!!!!!

I love Noise. Come on feel the Noise...

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