By Agneya Dutta Pooleery (with some edits and suggestions by Haimonti Dutta)
If you listen carefully, there are many unusual sounds you can hear at my maternal grandparents house. They include loud birds, train horns, street hawkers advertising their wares, and much more.
The birds and animals in this area - a small coal mining town named Asansol in West Bengal -- can be really loud. First of all, there is a cuckoo (Listen here Cuckoo Song) which sings very loudly, both in the morning and at night. Maybe someone served him a Pepsi instead of a Coke and he is venting his frustration. When his friend joins in the “singing”, it certainly sounds like they have been arguing about who did / did not do the dishes properly after dinner. What we do know about these birds are that they are very persistent in their songs. Another bird, the tailor bird, goes “Tuit Tuit” usually in the afternoons. I counted him do that one hundred and six times one day, at which point I decided, he needed his oven fixed to bake his pizza. The person responsible for fixing it was arriving late and he was getting hungry. Poor bird. The seven sisters (jungle babblers) are a noisy bunch, too. Not only do they hang around in a group, and always seem to be quarrelling about something, their call appears to be a wheezy chatter with lot of harsh notes. Did I tell you, there is a cow living nearby who moos rather loudly? At first, I thought he was sympathizing with me, when I voiced my discontent on the inability to get a math fraction problem correct -- but then I realized he had a lot more to say. He moos so that everyone in the area knows that he is there, almost like a declaration when you least expect it. Then there are the street (pariah) dogs -- they bark. Most of the time they are quiet and asleep on the sidewalk, but when one of them barks, the rest of them joins in. It then becomes a maddening cacophony. I often used to get bewildered wondering what the cause of concern may be -- an unknown person in the neighborhood? A cat moving along stealthily on the fence? Ringing of the bell by the priest? Someone enticing them with food? I have no idea. As suddenly as they had started, they all come to an agreement, and settle down to another round of peaceful slumber.
As if the racket the animals made were not enough -- there are humans who add to the hum-drum. There is a street vendor who sings “aaaaaaayyyyyyyy!”(Listen Here Ayy man) every morning at around 11 am. We do not know what he sells. We are just familiar with the beautiful sing-song voice with which he advertises his goods as he walks down narrow streets. Then, the newspaper man. He goes around the town collecting old newspapers, presumably to make recyclable packets in which small quantities of groceries can be sold. The “Tina Loha” man. He shouts “Teeenaaaa Loooohhhha!” -- stretching out the words and making his presence felt a few more seconds than would have been otherwise possible. He collects scrap metal and tin for recycling. The "sheeeeeel kuutaaaai" man apparently goes from door to door asking whether a grinding stone (Bengali: Shil Nora) needs to be perfected. He will do the job right at your door step and you don't have to pay him tips for visiting your home. "Katla mach (Labeo Catla), Rui mach (Labeo Rohita), Ilish mach (Hilsa), Magur mach (catfish, locally called magur)" calls the fish seller giving you a wide choice of locally caught "fresh" fish. Oh, and the man with cymbals. He clashes the cymbals in glee and sings devotional songs dedicated to Lord Krishna. He comes every other day, I think (Listen Here HareKrishna).
You can also hear the train horn everyday. There are two train lines close to this house -- one on an old bridge and another a railroad crossing. The freight trains typically go on the bridge, while local and passenger trains travel between Asansol and Burnpur on the other line. Occasionally, if you hear very carefully, you can hear the long horn of the express trains that travel between Kolkata and Dhanbad late in the night around 9 pm. You can check to see if your watch is running correctly or not. Since the house is located close to the Grand Trunk Road, you can also hear bus horns, scooter and motorcycles horns and occasionally an advertisement of movies or other important announcements on auto rickshaws.
The most beautiful sound though is that of people blowing the conch shell in the evening. A lamp is lit by the Tulsi plant followed by a long forlorn “puuuuaaaaah” declaring one’s devotion to the gods. Every once in a while, several houses in the neighborhood will blow the conch shell together at about the same time -- then you can be almost certain there is a festival being celebrated.
As I continue my day, I keep my ear out for these sounds. Not all the time do you hear them, but they makeup part of my day. When I read books and play games, and hear these sounds, I am reminded of the people and life as it goes on in this small town. I make lots of memories, and I know I shall remember them when I return to the U.S after my summer vacation.
