Sunday sounds
Sunday sounds I barely sleep at 2 am on Saturday night. I am kept awake by a book I can’t put down, by the moonlight filtering from the open window, and by the gentle sway of tall coconut trees brushing against my bedroom ledge. I wake up at 5.30 am by soul-soothing chimes streaming in from next door St. Andrew's church. As if on cue, dhobi-ghat adjacent to our compound comes alive with thup-thup-thup of dhobis starting a hard day's work. The sound, sight, and smell of Sunday in the suburb of Bandra are unique, quaint, and restful. Besides, my senses are sharper on Sundays, having abandoned all routines and all hopes of being productive and efficient. I hear a flute seller playing a popular filmi tune, hoping to wake up a sleepy resident in a more cheerful mood and perhaps buy a flute from him. Loud horn, the one with a rubber bulb sounds by 7 am heralding Idli-Vada seller. His customers are waiting hungrily for him, auto-rickshaw drivers, vegetable vendors, tea stall owners, a...