Weary and tired of nasty round the clock sound pollution of highway traffic, I came down to a hilly village in search of peace and calmness. First time when I came here looking out for a house, I was enthralled and charmed by the picturesque panorama of this village and then a thought ran through my mind that there cannot be any other place as apt and perfect as this for constructive work, but the first morning itself my avarice for peace shattered and I felt my stored experience of life is futile; thinking, “I do not have a pinch of wisdom to realize that there is a temple right atop my house, which I chose for tranquility.”
Early morning at around four thirty after finishing my morning duties, as I was preparing for my Yoga practice, a most discordant sky tottering noise devastated the calm atmosphere; firstly the most uncouth rhythm-less discourse, secondly sorrowful funeral of the national language pronunciations and that too on ear drum splitting loudspeaker volume. Mentally agonized I sat thinking that the enchanter might stop blurting on his exhaustion, but unfortunately it did not happen — the speaker seemed to be stout who must have been noshing on pure ghee and lots of dry fruits; he was probably taking revenge of our sins of previous incarnation.
I kept on tolerating, but when it became unbearable I came out in a rage and I happen to see a stone; I thought I should throw it on that religion promoting loudspeaker, but as I was about to lift to pelt it, suddenly my inner voice of Indian reasoning spurted, “Hey! Do not act like this else it would amount to irreligiousness; it may be a mountain of sins to carry and you might be thrown in a bigger hell than this, where you might have to pass through millions of incarnations of various species and genus before getting a birth of human again.” I was about to hit my head with that stone, but then I reflected that this place must not be having even a quack-doctor, forget having a hospital here, where I could be taken for treatment. I some how gathered my calm thinking that I was not the sole soul enduring this human incarnation in donkey’s disguise.” — Suddenly a constructive thought surged in my mind, “why can’t I make best use of this opportunity to test my power of endurance; I would not find a better occasion than this”. I took a deep breath and held it on, after a while my strength of endurance began shaking, but I did not lose courage, kept trying to self evaluate with reasoning that let me see my inner strength and power of tolerance till it reach the last digital point.
Very quickly after a short time my inner strength of endurance began kicking me vehemently and it began shouting, Had this been only matter of sound still it was understandable but there was a limit to inharmoniousness and on top of it Maharajs’ pious soul’s uncouth and rustic colloquial pronunciations made me mad. Intolerable attempts of the great guru of mispronunciation of words with S and Sh were far beyond the scope of languages like Sanskrit, Hindi, Punjabi, Tamil, Kannada, which appeared as if all the languages are blended together and the sound it created was like pallets in broken earthen pot been stirred vibrantly, but to this reasoning I quietly calmed by an analogy that an Ayurvedic tonic called Chayvanyaprash is a blend of numerous herbs, which oldies keep consuming regularly in futile attempt to attain youthfulness. —– Just then throat cracking passionate devotional discourse began, which made me lifeless and insensible that I could only feel that in the pleasant pious cockcrow hours somebody is widowing the romance of harmony or to say it is like loud crackle sounds of rolling stones of landslide. The havoc which the loudspeaker was creating, it was beyond tolerance capacity of a normal human being.
Weary and tired state of mind kneeled down before me and I could realize the last digital stretch of my capacity of endurance and in frustration I chose to get going out on the opposite side. I was walking towards a peak of another hill and the reckless nasty loud sound kept following me like shadow, just then a befitting retaliatory attack began; another wicked loudspeaker with its optimum amplification power started blurting discourses for devotees fully intoxicated in love for god. It appeared as if one hundred-fifty-one musical notes are echoing together. I sat down on a hillock plugging my ears with fingers, just then donkeys and mules from a nearby shanty mingled and blended their bray notes with theirs.
At first I thought that these dumb animals for their love for god were going hee-haw, but second moment I realized that they were registering their protest for justice. I was disgusted to think that these donkeys were better than me. I am telling you the truth that in their hee-haw I could clearly hear, “Hey! You unharmonious sound blasting terrorists, hey! Religious discourser, hey! Allah loudhailers’, May god help you to become civilized. Do not spoil the pleasant quietness and tranquility, which god has bestowed on you; try to be sensible and civilized at least in this century; past many centuries gone by in disappointment.”