Sounds of Sydney
Have you ever wondered what the inside of a bee hive would look like? I have! It is said that the bees work meticulously for making honey, day in day out. They would make an ideal employee. That’s the first thing I thought of when I came to Sydney. Hoards of people, walking, driving, running from one place to another. Most of them in a hurry to get home from another day of tirelessly working around. They want to get this day over with as fast as they can so that they can go back and get some rest, maybe meet their families or just lie down.
As I tried to blend in with the crowd, matching their pace with my own quick strides, I noticed that I was growing anxious. What was it!? I simply could not put my finger on it. Too many people, I thought. Yes, that is true. Too many buildings maybe? Could be. Too many people running around thinking they have it all figured out, people who ‘think ‘that they are happy, or that achieving something along the way will bring them the satisfaction that they long for. I want to stop and ask them, hey why are you running? Will they have an answer?
But then I noticed something else. As the gates of the bus opened and I reached my friend’s house, the air from outside gushed in. How did I miss this!? My nostrils flared with the smog that I breathed in. Its the air that was choking me.

But it’s better now. We get used to anything in a short while, an instinct that makes us fit for survival. Sydney is indeed like a beehive. Buildings tower over your head and make you dizzy, you have to watch your step too since the roads are always winding up or down. You stop at an intersection just to have a look around but everything seems to be moving, even the deep black roads seem alive and dangerous. You start walking uphill and the cafes that are on the street climb with you as well. It seems disorganized, chaotic, sporadic, but everything fits like pieces of a big puzzle.
There are also beautiful winding roads like the one I cycled on right now. Small colorful houses, that blossom in the spring sun, lined on both sides of the road with trees forming a large canopy above. The wind making the beautiful shadows dance on the road as the sunlight filtered through the canopy above. A mile from here and I won’t be able to see the sky without straining my neck and here I am enjoying the quiet bicycle ride, I thought. The city has it’s own sound, these elements. What does it remind me of? Fast changing tempo, unexpected rise and fall. Colorful and sometimes very jerky. Very chaotic but then everything falls into place. A buzzing beehive, busy streets, pristine cliffs, mammoth buildings and small houses. A paragon of juxtaposition. Yes, I know! I finally discovered the living embodiment of Jazz. I have been looking for it for so long now, the surroundings which fit such a creative genre. Like how post rock fits a long drive, a Chopin nocturne fits a quiet and a mellow evening.

The music we hear compliments the surroundings and the surroundings too, give music a more concrete shape. Imagine listening to music with no words. The first time I hear it, I see a formless cloud. It takes a while for it to change it’s shape and form and eventually it comes to life. When you find the it’s surroundings, the music attaches itself to a memory and it brings back images and the aroma and you end up hearing more than what you did before. That’s the freedom music has, infinite possibilities if you ask me. Like different interpretations of the same poem. I wonder if the music captured what I intended it to, cause I knew that an image by itself just won’t do.
