The noise of my thoughts whirled and swirled
Momentarily, it stopped—overwhelmed by the noise in the outside world
“Living in the city, in an apartment complex
Is an implicit punishment,” announced my reflex
Doors bang, phones ring,
and doorbells go ‘tring-tring’
Somewhere a music stereo drums in earnest
A piercing whistle from a milk-cooker wants to show who is loudest
Babies cry and small kids yell
A water-purifier sings and joins the swell
Furniture is pulled, a motor begins to run
A honk, even from far away, is no fun
People out for a healthy walk loudly talk
And compete with a car’s reversing siren as it tries to dock
A pressure-cooker releasing steam hisses repeatedly
While someone plies a ladle in a vessel—clang-clang—lustily
I am aghast at this melee and feel lost
I turn nervous and my heart beats fast
All I crave is a bit of silence—
for my thoughts to settle and regain balance
Note: It was one of those days when my nerves were inexplicably on edge. Our apartment complex, as a rule, is private, quiet and disciplined.
But, on that particular day, all the noises I mentioned above happened simultaneously! And I felt thoroughly baffled and helpless.
Then I wrote this poem to shift my focus elsewhere, and magic (or just logic?), I became calm and thankfully, the noises had ceased too.