If I was s writer I will write about the sounds of India. India is not pictures, it is not Bollywood , it is the sounds. Now I know what was it like growing up with all these sounds. When i am sitting quietly in a room with a window opened to the street , my whole being is being transformed into the India experience.
It is 10 am and I am hearing constant musical honking of distant Rickshaws , interrupted by the street vendors calling out their products that they are so desperately trying to sell. I am hearing calls for fresh Methi , also louder calls for Fresh vegetables , few dogs barking. Just now a puppy cried out ( because my brother in law is trying to get him out of the property). A child is crying somewhere in a nearby house and a young boy is talking to "auntie. Constant hum of cars and trucks going on the main road in punctuated by the sounds of women talking and cleaning the streets. The scooters and motorcycles are zooming by with few buses and quite laughs of children going to school. The faint sound of steel utensils being cleaned and banged in the process is combined with constant background of push and pull of street carts. There is a constant hammering in the background due to some construction going on somewhere .....I can go on and on .I wish i was a poet or a writer but i am neither so I will attach few pictures to go along with what i am hearing.
Went for the morning walk at the local reservoir called Piplia Pala ( Piplia Pond) . We used to come here as school picnic and later on the bike adventures early in the mornings ( stealing mangoes on the way). It was totally neglected and was in ruins when I saw it last but what an amazing transformation. It is a beautiful picnic area as you can tell from the few pictures. I have to admit i like it the way it used to be in my childhood days when it was natural , green and full of flowers and birds and sort of adventurous place. Now it is a pretty but built up area with ride and all other urban trappings.
Oh, just went downstairs to get water and saw a old friend from elementary school sitting with my sister.( stopped by totally unannounced ) She had just stopped by but I did not recognize her at all. She reminded me that she was in "home science" while i was doing science and I used to let her copy my math stuff only if she will feed me whatever she learned to cook that day :) ( I must have erased that part of the memory...:)
I am finishing this blog after a full, fun day in Indore. Jagdish came over for lunch with his nephew. He is already stressed out, a girl’s wedding In traditional Indian wedding can be very stressful and he is not known for handling stress well. I am glad I am staying with my family. I hope all will go well. I am trying to help , but it is hard in this environment.
Anyways, my sister and I went to visit a very old friend and sort of mentor. Her name is Shreen. She is Parsi ( Zoroastrian from Persia) . She is the head of the Indore University’s Economics department and a very strong personality. We grew up together, all of the kids ( six from our family and four from her’s and few others) used to walk to school under her leadership. We remembered the mischief we used to do and the games we used to play on the streets ( no toys) .
After that we tried to do little shopping but no success. Ate Dominos Pizza with Indian taste with Paneer and Cilantro. Time to rest, good night and Namaste
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