Sound of a soul

One of the life’s sweetest contribution, I always enjoy is the holidays and the extension of morning sleep it offer. Sleep, especially the morning sleep, is a melody of life. For this, now, a hindrance has emerged.

I know in a vague sort of way that, my next door neighbors are Marwaris. Quite a big joint family, with bunch of broods who always pop hither,thither over our compound walls and come inquiring us, about the cricket ball they had aimed unintentionally at our windows, or, about the kite that demands there service to liberate it from our tata sky dish antenna. Considering the senior folks of their family, from their outlook, I gather, they are the people who are offensive to the family planning scheme of government of India, otherwise there wouldn’t be so much kids right?. This much information I know about them. Suddenly, my interest upon this inhabits has grown tremendously; of course, not without a reason.

For the past two weeks, precisely at the early morning hour of Sundays – or any other holidays, for that matter – there comes a surging noise through the front windows, strong enough to collapse the sound sleep of mine. It is a peculiar noise, sharper than my mother’s cry, when it comes to waking me up. This sound, having achieved its objective, there in the bright morning, makes me mull over the question – ‘What life is plotting to do at this early hour?

Later, investigation revealed the source of noise. Someone, from next door, who aspires to become AR Rahman or other musical genius of that sort, is having hard time in mastering the musical instruments at the morning time of holidays. “In those solemn moments when the sound of a soul is about to touch its spot”, I was told, “it is bound to bombard the ears of someone who happens to be in deep slumber in a room few meters away”.

I want to meet this person who has this divine quality of waking up others. No luck yet. If, ever, I get a chance to say him/her a ‘Hi’, I shall not be asking about this divine quality, instead, I will say something like – “All the best to be an AR Rahman”.

I just don’t have the heart to hurt, you see.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s