Here, you hear.

Oct. 24

Bing. Bang. Shout. A morning walla’s staccato cries.

Piercing the morning air comes a muffled megaphone of music. Click here for sounds outside my home.

The clang of bells for prayer.

The caw of ravens searching for breakfast.

A slowly building crescendo of vehicles in impatient conversation.
The insistent beep of four-wheelers, the rapid tooting of three.
Bickering and bargaining, who needs an auto ride?
An occasional grumble of a driver, disrupted.

The sharp cyclical song of impertinent buses overwhelming the tiny plastic honk of a bicycle rickshaw.  The ting-ting of a bicycle bell. The metallic shiver of a motorbike.

And with a vibrating rumble of an engine’s start, a rapid procession of ‘t’s’ and ‘k’s’ follows as the three-wheeler ambles on its way.

Scuffs and slaps, dirt kicked up by pedestrians gracefully avoiding that growing traffic.
A low interweaving of male voices, caught up in an intense sidewalk conversation to pass the time.

Click. Clack. Clatter. A false start, a clatter, a boom.  Construction
begins amidst the cracking of breaking bricks.

A swipe of a cloth across a beaded brow.
The light tinkle of a bladder relieved.

A gang of dogs briefly barks, an unusual canine occurrence.

The rickety rattle of a sidewalk seller’s wheels. 
Quick flash, sizzle as newspaper wrapped snacks are served.

The oversized shout of a small-sized mobile. ‘Hello? Hello?”

Whoosh of a glass door, sucking in the heat to penetrate the encased cool air.
The mesmerizing hum of a conditioner of air.

In response to the mic’ed staticy voice, a rapid rustle of sarees and baggage jostling for a place in a cramped, crooked que.

A key clicks, opening secure doors.
A stuffed bus softly rumbles its way to a waiting plane.

Grunts and mumbled interjections punctuate the plastic thuds of baggage tightly squeezed into impossible spaces.
Beeps, clicks, rattling.  Slumps, snores and sneezes.  Glugging bottles.  Tinny voices. Then the final screech of rubber slammed against tar.

A chorus of clicks accompany the landing, belts shed in defiance of stern announcements.
Grunts and mumbled interjections punctuate the plastic scratch of baggage extracted from tightly squeezed spaces.

Wobbling wheels on uneven pavement.
The slam of an unstable door.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Cut through the parking. Beep. Beep. Beep. Onto the street. Beep. Beep. Beep. Cut into traffic. Beep. Beep. Beep.  Weave past pedestrians
and pedals.
Bang. Waggle. Bump.  Bang. Waggle. Bump.  Each hole aging the auto a bit more.

Two quick honks call forth the quick steps of the guard.  The long squeak of a
large metal gate, twice, brings you home.

A little key fumbling.  A little lock jiggling.  An inner gate screeching.
Plop. Plop. Shoes.
Click. Click. Light.
Tickety-tick. Tickety-tick. The overhead fan.

The conversation of horns subsides, slowly, ever slowly.

A burst of music might still rend the air.

Then dinner helps turn the day’s sounds into an evening of aromatic pleasure.