We are a loud people. This is brought home to me almost every day. But of late it is being brought home in a very literal sense.
I sit down to breakfast, newspaper in hand, looking forward to this quiet interlude in the cadence of the day. And suddenly, `Ye re manaa..manaa..ye re manaa…’ floats up from the terrace below mine… “hmm..kaku’s classical training shows …nice…” I think as she sings along to the record being played.
The song ends. …and begins. Again. She continues to sing. When she does it a third time my thoughts about her are not so charitable. Don’t get me wrong. I am not averse to listening to Hindustani classical music. But I draw the line at listening to the same song over and over with live voices joining in … for well over two hours and counting.
Even while she is giving it a go with full gusto for the fifth time I hear the beats of the mridangam picking up speed. Looks like mama, over in the next building, has begun practice. Gulp. The irregular beats his students are hammering out merge with the ye re manaa and I try drown out both by nosily slurping my tea.
But wait, I am not alone in misery.. a plaintive cry `Jab koi baat bigad jaaye, jab koi mushkil pad jaaye…..’ issues forth from my next-door neighbour’s television set. Ye re manaa, the thumping of the mridangam and Kumar Sanu pleading `tum dena saath mera o hum nawaa…’ all merge into a crescendo. No one is giving saath to anyone here. That’s for sure!
I take a deep breath, drawing on my hard-earned reserves of good-will and calm (one hour of early morning yoga and meditation, no less!). The perils of living cheek-by-jowl. One’s brand of music becomes OPM..Other People’s Music. Sigh.
But I shall have my revenge. Soon. When the son practices his singing I shall exhort him to be louder and make sure the windows are all open. Ha!
What to do? We are like that only! 😀