Band,
Baaja..and Nuisance
I
was about to take my afternoon power nap when suddenly, there was this
explosion of noise. In spite of knowing well what the cacophony could be all
about in this marriage season, my human frailty still took me to the balcony of
my Ahmedabad penthouse on 10th floor.
There,
a bird’s eyeview! Brilliant. The organ is in full volume, amplified further by
three loudspeakers, one of them pointing up straight at me. I assume a conspiracy to turn me into a veggie! The trumpeters’ collective effort can be gauged; several
drummers are in a frenzy. The singer, if he could be called one, is belting out
a popular, b’wood number, “aaj mere yaar
ki shaadi hai”.
Pray,
whose yaar?
I scan the ground level;
there is no baarati around yet. The yaar in question is probably getting ready
for this, his D-day. What about my ruined normal day, brother?? Mumbling some expletives, I curse.
I now see some faces emerging in other balconies, mostly those of senior citizens
like me as if the Pied Piper was calling! The frenzied cacophony continues with
the besura singer’s voice amplified
further. Torture, Torture.
Oh God! He has now taken a new role – as the orchestra director. As he
raises the wand in his right hand with a flourish a la Zubin
Mehta, I flinch.
Can’t
have my power nap now, can I? I am raving mad.
Then,
why am I suffering the horrible decibels? No laws, nothing like Bhubaneswar
where wedding processions are only at night; the orchestra troupes are licensed
and accompanied by police so that it stops in the given limited time – or no
payment.
Come to think of it, it is the orchestra company that times the baarat.
And
so I continue to suffer the audio horror. By now, I have gone nuts, diwana - clinically, physiologically,
and psychologically.
And I crack finally. Angry, eyes wide open and hands
flaying wildly, I, in my surila voice,
break into a jig..begaani shaadi mein,
Abdullah diwana..!
