Terror at High Noon!

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 10^th 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..!