Sound and Noise

Concept Note

When I hear sounds of Tamizh as I travel in the auto, I remove my earphones to eavesdrop with great pleasure. I secretly hope to hear cuss words. As I buy a double coffee without sugar, my ears are on the lookout for Tamizh words again; even a “ennada solre” is enough to make me grin.

Against the grunt of tyres; angry honking; and exhaust, my earphones tuck out the noise. My ears fill instead with the music of Raja; SaNa and Harris. While my father loves Raja and likes Harris, on listening to SaNa’s music, he asks if it is talking or singing. With a laugh, I increase the volume.

Between these lines of sound and noise, I tread: newspaper; scissors; images and glue in hand. What is your sound and noise, I ask.

I try to read in the auto; the constant thrusts into the air stop me from taking in a sentence without going over it at least three times. I plug my earphones in– without music playing for I don't know how to juggle between the lyrics in my ears and the lines on the page. It doesn't help. Instead, I listen closely to the driver's Kannada- connecting tense and action. I hope to learn the language as soon as I can. At least enough to respond with a single unbroken sentence without pausing too much in between.

Amidst this, I scroll through social media. A few seconds in, I grow tired of the stagnant discourse. A new item everyday that plays throughout– every story, every post, every meme– until the next one comes in and the cycle continues.

What is your sound and noise, I ask.