The world is never quiet, even its silence eternally resounds with the same notes – Albert Camus
I love some sounds of rains, birds, and snow,
Those which help me to read by and write.
Thunder and rumbling of clouds before early rains,
As if repining for a lover is one of them.
The steady swish of a tropical or coniferous downpour,
Act as a lullaby sung by the forest deity at night.
But can never silence the gentle twirl,
Of barbets and bulbuls searching for worms in bush.
Deafening euphony of rain hitting on,
Corrugated stone roofs of houses on mountains,
Foretell the arrival of early hours of morning.
When trees bowed by heavy rain wriggle themselves.
A gentle trill of alpine whistling thrush,
At early hours of morning or at eventide.
Or Himalayan cuckoo cooing in exasperation,
Annoyed due to night-long drizzle and winter chill.
The meditative melody of sitar and flute,
In morning propitiates wisdom in a home.
And grey fecund sound of electric guitar,
Suffuses cheeriness and abundance in evening.
Applause in the form of clap from a rapt audience,
As I descant on an idea or recite a poetic verse.
And cadence of a considerate remark,
By a man for a woman are few of my beloved sounds.3 comments