Sound walk around Church Ave.
Every ordinary day, I attempt to ignore the noise while rushing
to and back from the same food stand. But a short sound walk drew a new
portrait of my old neighborhood that I missed all these days. So while I was
standing in queue for my lunch, I closed my eyes and opened my ears…
I immediately faced a collection of sounds. As I started
listening I could sense the rhythm of the food cart vendor chopping the meat,
it had an amazing tune of its own. (Made even better by my hunger.)
The sound of chopping meat matched the sounds of the
footsteps of the busy people around me, rushing to their destination. A cop car
zoomed past me, with its sirens bursting my attention. As the sound of the cop
car faded away, I was able to concentrate on the environment again.
New York City never fails to remind of the cultural
diversity that it holds. I heard at least five different languages, if not more,
just standing in my queue. I could hear voices of children from the school
beside me growing louder and louder. They were laughing, telling stories. It
must’ve been time to go home. I could hear the faint sounds of the subways
underground. As every subway passed by, the conversations around me increased,
as more kids got out from the stations. A few stores behind me, I could hear the
sound of Bengali music, playing in the background.
I got my lunch and started back to my small neighborhood
office.
