Friday, 25 December 2009
The television anchor shouts.
The tv serial about the warrior queen shouts.
The background music shouts.
The man on the street shouts.
The guest next to you shouts.
The music in the car shouts.
The malls shout with their garish decors.
The shops in the malls put on loud music to out-shout the shouting garish décor.
The cafés, generally nice quiet places by concept, shout.
The prayers to our Gods are shouting matches accompanied by loud music.
We have become a nation obsessed with loudness.
Everyone is out decibelling everyone else.
This evening when I heard a thousand sparrows land near a tree, I wanted to shout too.
The sparrows are back. The sparrows are back.
But, even if I did manage to shout, it would have made no difference.
The collective sounds of the generator in the neighbour’s house, people talking to each other like they were researching hearing aids, an alarm that went off in someone’s car, would have drowned my voice.
Besides, what is so special about a thousand sparrows coming to roost in the bushes of a housing colony in Delhi?
Nobody noticed them gone for so many years in the first place.