If there is anything I can say with
certainty about our home, it is definitely not quiet. The sounds vary – from
peals of laughter that sound nearly evil, from thudding sounds that make you
wonder what is happening and yells that make your insides curl. The credit,
nearly entirely goes to our two brats (of course I meant our two sons, hmph!)
My attitude towards them varies from
indulgent deafness to exasperated scolding. The latter makes them gleefully
prance around the homestead, assuming I am joining in their primeval pranks. By
the time I get them to understand that I am trying to stop them, not join them,
I am already hoarse, dizzy and incapable of any sane activity of any kind.
Amidst this zoo-like feel are the dreaded
phone calls, especially official ones that I take, very reluctantly at home. Knowing
the residential milieu and the normal decibel levels at the home quarters, I
plead a variety of reasons (not to be quoted, huh?) from fatigue, to having a
platoon of guests over, to discharging batteries and damaged ears. Ah, well, it
is all to protect you, dear callers, so if you still didn’t get it, I really
can’t be held responsible for what follows.
The conversations start politely enough. At
the first background noise, there is a pause at the other end, wondering. I
speak nonchalantly, hoping they would imagine noises in their ears. The next sound
– with increased volume – is a little more difficult to ignore. I speak louder
– blame it on some noise in the network and try to continue. We are discussing
a critical point and when I am giving deep thought to provide some profound
insight or other, comes a horrific shriek. It is not possible to ignore or
pretend these noises don’t exist any more, unless I want to plead “unsound
mind”. Giggling girlishly (ugh) I call out to the boys, “Hello dears, I am
getting disturbed by your sound” apologize and try to continue with the call.
“As I was saying, the incomprehensible aspect of this entire state of affairs
poses several poignant questions for which our endeavours must be to
identify...” what they would identify I had no clue and the caller had no chance
of finding out either when a series of recurring noises halted any further
pretence at conversation.
The caller’s mystique turned into undisguised
awe, “How do you manage.... blah blah...” who-can-shout-louder game’s deafening
noises in the background, drowned the rest of the compliments (Ya, ya, this is
my version, right, so I get to imply compliments here). Just then the train of
loud sounds entered the room and began to revolve around me, each trying to
catch the other while they pretended I was a pillar. A string of expletives
were left unarticulated as I spluttered, hemmed, hawed and did anything by
provide poignant inputs on professional matters.
The caller resigned, postponing the
discussion for saner moments but not before hastily adding a few words of
encouragement and sympathy. I would have happily listened to more such sympathetic words in this manner, were it not for the two plummeting punks who nearly
rammed the breath right out of me. While I hung up, gasping my thanks, I knew
yet another caller was crossed off my list of official callers while at home.
I
start on a dressing-down session – to the audience of two that seems more
amused and confused than repentant. “Why don’t you join the game with us as well,
mummy? It is such a nice game with many noisy adventures.” Before I could draw a second breath, the phone
rang again.
I place a finger on my lips gesturing silence to the little brats
as I pick up the call. They decide merrily that this is the signal for yet
another new game. Ah well, welcome dear caller to my ear-deafening insights!
If there is one bright (please note, I say Bright,
not Silent) spot in this whole scheme of things, it is that the numbers of
official calls dwindle by the day. When I finally left that organization – I
actually got a thank you letter that included my children and mentioning their
“active participation” and contribution to my work!
Who said work and children
don’t mix? In my life they actually do, in a heady, noisy, ear-splitting fashion with two young boys playing musical chaos on the dais!
