Very quiet sounds

Chittagong is a raucous tumult. The racket is penetrating and ceaseless: horns, screams, brakes, creaking ceiling fans, the tinnital whine of tube lights, the grind of suffering transmissions, rickshaw bells, angry shouts, and—because Panchlaish is a hospital district—an utter cacophony of unique ambulance shrieks and warbles. Every ambulance is private, and every private ambulance has to compete in a new and different way to be heard over the shattering storm of other sounds.

I work hard every morning at the meditation in which I, together with all sentient beings, transform all sounds into an offering of bells for the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. The rickshaw bells help.

But twice now I have been surprised by wholly unexpected, very quiet sounds. The first was a rhythmic eeping, a regular high pitched chirp that came and went. I’m not sure when it began; by the time I realised that I had noticed it, I had already classified it with all the other high-pitched repetitive sounds made by the various ceiling fans, all of which are slightly out of balance. When I finally listened properly, I understood that it was pigeon hatchlings in the loft over the bathroom—there’s an access hatch in this room and the sound echoes through. Most of the time there’s too much other sound to hear them, but I keep an ear out anyway. The pigeons, like every other living thing here save perhaps the feral cats, are terrified of people, but I have made a habit of sitting quietly by the balcony where the pigeons go in and out. I would like to think they are a little less frantic when they see me now. Their chicks are growing. I can hear there chirps getting stronger, and I hope I will not miss the day when they venture out.

The second was last night, very late. It’s Durga Pūjā just now, and one can see the mandaps appearing around town. I was awake for some reason, and there was an unusual lull in the endless gravelling roar of traffic sounds. Suddenly, very clearly, I heard someone playing a bamboo flute very beautifully, not far away. Some huge belching bus came past, but then I heard it again, just for a few notes, before it was lost as the wave of grinding, screeching sound closed back over us.