My sister has been rather ill for a week now. It all started with a bout of nausea in the local train. We were on the way to her college to complete the admission formalities for the new course she’s begun. Before we could fully asses her condition, she began throwing up. Fellow passengers were kind enough to help us out by giving us a bottle of water, a plastic bag for her to throw up in and some valuable suggestions on how to counter the nausea. Unfortunately, nothing worked and she puked the entire day. In the train, in the cab, in her college. That was a bad day.
Anyway, we attributed it to indigestion and since she seemed to be getting back to her usual self by evening, we didn’t think it necessary to check with a doctor. Then it happened again. I got a call from her college day before yesterday. They told me the sister was throwing up violently and I had to go and pick her up because they didn’t think she was fit enough to travel all by herself. Thankfully, her college is not too far from my office. I found myself in a cab within minutes. When I saw her, I realised she was extremely weak and dehydrated. She was having a hard time even taking a few steps.
We took her to a doctor immediately. Her BP was very low! The doctor asked her to take complete rest for the next 4 days. Along with that, she gave the sister a round of medicines that she asked her to take quite vigilantly. Despite the medicines, she developed a high fever by night. And it has been there ever since.
Yesterday was her birthday. My little baby sister turned 22! But due to her spells of dizziness, vomiting, low BP, fever and weakness, we had to cancel all our grand celebratory plans. Nevertheless, we sneaked her out for dinner, ignoring everybody who objected to the idea. Unfortunately, I regretted the decision as soon as the sister complained of stomach ache after ingesting just a little bit of food. We were in a restaurant in the mall. The restroom was on the other end of the mall. She said she wanted to throw up all of a sudden and we had to run all the way across the mall to get to the loo. Quite a harrowing experience.
We got home as soon as we could. By then she had such a high temperature, she was burning. When we reached, we found out that my dad was not very well either. He was quite feverish himself. And today was the day my mom was not home. Sigh. Anyway, we tucked the two sick people in bed. I have realised one thing about myself. When people around me are sick, I am overcome by this desire to soothe them. I do all I can to comfort them, be it sponging them with an ice pack, stroking their hair or settling them in bed.
The sister was unable to sleep because of a bad headache. So I sat beside her, massaging her temples with Vicks Vaporub and alternately sponging her body with a cold piece of cloth. She fell asleep with great difficulty. It was past midnight by the time I turned in for the night.
And then it began. At 1.10 am to be precise. A *LOUD* noisy procession with a *BLARING* musical band. It took my just asleep brain a few minutes to register the source of the noise. What the hell was it? And then I realised. Ganpati. It was the first day of the festival and they were bringing in the idol.
I was livid. It was past 1 am. And these fuckers were passing through an entirely residential lane. (Yes. For the first time ever, I am not going to watch my language on the blog. I am *that* angry.) How dare they subject all the sleeping residents to this blasting music? Did they have to screech and dance at this hour? Did they have to bring the idol at this time? Did they have to have such a noisy band? Did they have to pass through residential lanes? DID THEY?
I walked in to the other room, and as suspected, my sister was in acute discomfort. She was clutching her temples and twisting in pain. My father was tossing in bed. I have two sick people in the house who had just managed to fall asleep with great difficulty. This was so not done.
I waited for five minutes, hoping the procession will pass. It didn’t. I continued pacing back and forth in our living room for a good twenty minutes. Finally, I stepped out in the balcony to see what was going on. There they were. Dancing in front of the cart that carried the Ganesh idol. The procession didn’t seem to be in any rush to pass. They were dancing in the same spot, barely inching forward. If you insist on disturbing me and passing through my lane at this hour, can’t you atleast be considerate enough to leave fast? Do you have to dance and stay rooted to the same spot for a bleddy hour? From my balcony, I could see other residents waiting angrily by their windows, hoping this would end soon.
When I had had enough, I twisted my dishaveled hair into a ponytail and slipped into my flip flops. I decided I was going downstairs and confronting the assholes. Just as I was stepping out of the door, Mint grabbed hold of my hand. He told me it was a large mob. How many people would I single-handedly take on? What if they were linked to a political part? What if they were dangerous? What was I planning on telling them anyway? How would I accomplish anything? I had no answers to his questions.
So I stepped back in and thought some more. I decided to contact the police. This was something I have never done in my life, so I was a little apprehensive. I pulled out my laptop and googled for the right numbers. I found this page that dealt with ‘Noise Pollution Complaint in Mumbai’. There was an option to send an SMS, but I wanted speedy action and I wasn’t sure that was the best way to go about it. So I called the Police control room directly.
The lady at the other end was very helpful, but since my surrounding was so ridiculously noisy, I could barely hear what she was saying. I blurted out to her my problem in the best Hindi I know. I was so angry at that time, I wasn’t sure if my blabber made any sense. I just remember saying words like ‘too much noise’, ‘loud band’ ,’almost 2 am’, ‘sick people at home’.
She asked me my exact address. I had a tough time explaining to her where exactly the procession was. The lane they were passing from has no name. Not that I know of. So I gave her my apartment address and told her they were exactly below my building since almost an hour. She said she would send a Police vehicle in less than 20 minutes.
I hoped the miscreants would have to deal with the police. The band and the loud beat of drums continued to pierce through the night. Twenty minutes were up and the noise showed no signs of abating. I was wondering if my call to the police would have any effect at all. Finally, after 35 minutes of making the phone call, the band came to an abrupt stop.
I rushed to the balcony to find out what had caused them to stop. I wanted the satisfaction of knowing that the cops were here and were giving the jerks a hard time. Unfortunately by then, the procession had moved further ahead and I didn’t have a clear view of what was going on. I would have to live without knowing how it ended.
I walked back to bed, thankful for the precious silence that had crept on so suddenly. While I have always loved the spirit of the Ganpati festival, to say I am disappointed with the way some people treat it is an understatement. How many laws can you break in the name of religion? How inhuman and inconsiderate can you be to people who are aged and sick? How much more can you harm the environment? I am too scared to find out.