The Nocturnal Sounds - The Initial Nights in Kathmandu
It is strange that in your comfort zone one tends to take for granted the sounds that emanate in the night. In Delhi, I live very near a railway track; but till the time a staying guest points out, I never realize the bursts of train rambling along at regular intervals. Honestly, how many of you have actually listened to the noise and sounds before slipping into the cushiony tenderness of sleep?
Despite a month of staying here, my sub-conscious has still not befriended the nocturnal acoustics of Kathmandu. Since I stay in a virtual greenhouse, surrounded with a lot of trees and shrubs, the rustle of the leaves is a consistent background score, joined in by insects shrills.
Before coming here many people (including my mother) had warned of snakes, and cautioned me against taking a ground floor residence; but as luck would have it, I could not find any suitable top floor one, so I ended up with this one, on the ground floor itself. Of course, with the population rising, and open spaces devoured up by concrete, the snakes have now retreated to some obscure corner of invisibility; but I do remember asking this question to the landlady, who replied with a loud guffaw that why Indians are so obsessed with snakes. Apparently, the tenant before me had similar fears. Perhaps it is the collective effect of all those ‘nagin’ films (despite knowing scientifically that snakes are deaf, I still went and lowered the volume while the ‘cobra dance’ came up in Bride and Prejudice), but yes, snakes do bother me; as do lizards, another of the most repulsive creatures of nature!
So, in the night, I often stay awake with my ears perked up, trying to listen to some odd slither or hiss. Luckily, till date, I have not come across any- visually or aurally. But, apart from the rustle of the leaves, I do take note of each small reverberation or sound- the dragging feet of a drunkard on the lane outside the back gate; the signature tune of a late night serial flowing out of some house; the clatter of utensils in another household; the laughter of the boys (the landlady’s sons) upstairs; a few far off animated throaty discussion over drinks; a car whizzing by; the landlady’s dog (unleashed only in the evening) doing a round of the house; another dog’s bark far away; a third dog’s howl ( it seems Kathmandu dogs start off a party every night); the tap dripping ominously in the kitchen; the squeak of the gate, off the driveway.
Let’s see how soon I assimilate all this in my subconscious system, and learn to ignore it, naturally. Perhaps, only then, can I say that I have finally ’settled in’ here!
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March 29th, 2007 at 10:18 am
[…] I walked to the kitchen, to have a closer look. And then, it came to me the reason for the dog’s behavior.A snake was slithering its way out towards the gate that I had come in from. Shiny grey, and pretty long, the snake meandered in its creepy curls. The dazzling sunlight reflected off its smooth skin. Even though I was inside my house and far off from the creature, a shiver ran my spine. It still is running there, as I type this, and recall the sight of the reptile.Remember some months back when I had written about my shifting process to Kathmandu, I had mentioned my overt fear about snakes in the post Nocturnal Sounds. Even if I see them on screen or photograph, I get petrified.The snake moved out of the gate, through a hole in the carved design. My house is such that there is a long corridor, grassy, sandy and sort of unkempt, which needs to be crossed before reaching the main gate (on one side of this is a high rise wall, and the other end are a line of two houses; my house is at the end, where the corridor closes). The snake would have gone there, and goodness knows where from there. In the night, this stretch is extremely dark, without any lighting. Often, I have seen toads there, especially, when it is rainy and puddled. Toads are small precocious creatures; I can bear them. But snakes are a different story altogether. I will have to avoid or be extremely careful while coming in from the front gate during late hours. But there is another fear - what if it returns and decides to snuggle inside the compound itself, or, in the garden; and what if it manages to enter the house, though the chances seem to be slim as I do take care to keep all doors and windows closed (netted, at least), but the house is old, and the windows might not be all that secure. Shudder! Shudder!!Just yesterday, when I had returned from my dinner out, the October post and the snake-issue had crossed my mind. My mother had warned me about them before I transferred here. While changing clothes, I had laughed off the fear. More than eight months, I told myself, there has been no sign of snakes, not even an unduly disturbing rustle anywhere. Today, I am proven wrong, and very badly, and it’s not some story heard from someplace. I see one with my eyes!I am sure there would have been many other positive thoughts running in my mind last night. Wasn’t there anything more promising that God could have fullfilled? […]
April 25th, 2007 at 7:55 am
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