Sounds of life

Nursery rhymes taught us the various sounds of everyday life to familiarize ourselves with - like the  rooster’s - cock a doodle do ( never heard a cock coo this way till date though), the chikku bukku of the train, the tip tip of the rain on the roof, the buzz of the crickets that is the sound of an otherwise eerie  night, the rustle of dry leaves on a windy day and many others.

 Later years, I was a big fan of the song Poopookum osai . The song is about the sounds we don’t ear but would love to and the sounds that are true music to our years. Grandfather’s snores,  the striking of coins in a carom board, the sound qunik quink from the shoe I wore while learning to walk as a toddler, the cling of coins in my piggy bank, the honk of my school bus, the cling of the class bell, the pomp pomp of the pushcart bakery  man, the unique sound of daddy’s scotter, the promo of DD national TV’s news programme, early morning bells from the neighbourhood temple, whipping sound of eggs for the Sunday morning omelet… the list is endless and will remain etched in my memory forever.

There are some sounds, actually recent ones that stir me to the core these days. The snooze of the morning alarms that hits really hard on the head every day, remainder that I have a long way to go in life, of the dreams and struggles ahead.

 Then comes, the sound of the police siren. A sound that reminds me of the haunting night during the Chennai floods in 2015, with the ground floor of the building completely flooded and 70 of us packed in the first floor of the hostel, with no power, no communication with the rest of the world, and no food, a water water everywhere not a drop to drink situation, the only sound to break the silence of the night was the police siren at a distance sounding at regular intervals. It told us that there was life and road somewhere close by. Even a year later, I wake up with sweat when I hear this sound from a regular night patrolling vehicle.

I thought, I would be the last person to be affected by demonetization. Life had other plans, when even after 10 days, most ATM ran dry when I would have progressed to an arm’s length proximity to it after waiting rather patiently in an hour and half long queue. The sound of ATM dispensing cash is lately the sound of relief to me, sometimes more calming than Ilayaraja’s songs after a long day at work and a long hour at the queue.

 I am waiting for the more unforgettable sounds life has in store for me.