There is a whole range of sounds many of us grew up hearing -- the soundtrack of our early lives. Many are slowly fading away, going mute & may be only still heard in little quiet corners of India. Dominic Xavier goes looking. Or rather listening...
Doordarshan's signature tune
Remember the tune, Doordarshan soulfully played -- composed in 1976 by Pandit Ravi Shankar, played on shehnai by Ustad Ali Ahmed Hussain Khan, based on Iqbal's Sare Jahan Se Achcha -- at the end of the day's programming (and start too).
Listen to it here.
Hand-pulled rickshaws
The jingle and squeak of the wooden wheels turning... The sound of Kolkata's legendary hand-pulled rickshaws navigating narrow gullies or teeming streets. Much fewer today. Unsuccessful attempts to phase them out continue.
Listen to it here.
Manual water pump
The clunk the hand pump makes when water is being drawn, via an up-and-down motion, into a metal bucket is getting rarer, especially in cities. Even the metal buckets are around less too. Bright-coloured plastic containers are far preferred.
Listen to it here.
Rumble of an Amby
Remember the distinctive ghurrrr of Hindustan Motor's Ambassador as it lumbered down the streets carrying 10-12 passengers all squished in? It was a raw sound reflecting the vehicle's toughness & sheer torque!
Listen to it here.
Shift sirens
All over India once one heard shift sirens. Colonies attached to factories, hospitals, mills had them. Army cantonments too. Even boarding schools. They indicated the beginning and end of work shifts. Many of us set our HMT watches to the 9 am one.
Call of the Mumbai salt vendor
Bombay, as the city was called then, was flanked by over 5,000 acres of salt pans. When you entered the city by train, the endless bright blue water of the pans was your first sight. Its harvested salt was hawked in the streets. Vendors went about insistently calling, 'Meet! Meet!' The pans are fast decreasing. The hawkers too.
The victoria's clip-clop
No longer do you hear the clop-clop that heralded the arrival of one of Mumbai's gracious victorias or horse-drawn carriages, adding special charm to the city. That ended when victorias traded in their horses for electric motors.
Listen to it here.
Cloth against stone
Dhobis pounded clothes -- sometimes almost threadbare :) -- at giant boulders by the side of rivers. Or at town/city ghats reserved for laundry men. The steady rhythmic slap of cloth against stone was once upon a time a more familiar sound.
Listen to it here.
Whirring of the chakki or flour mill
The persistent grinding sound of a chakki or flour mill was once part of the cacophony of both urban neighbourhoods and rural villages, as the fragrance of freshly-ground flour filled the air. Rarer now.
Listen to it here.
'Jagte raho!'
The night watchman, on duty at his post -- at a bungalow or a colony -- would rattle his bamboo dandi and belt out a throaty 'Jagte raho (stay awake)' in the still darkness, that would be echoed by the next closest chowkidar. It was a call of solidarity and also a way to keep alert.