Bengaluru

Sounds of lockdown

Simran Ahuja

BENGALURU: The azaan from a mosque, chirping birds, the regular beeping of a hospital machinery, water from a dripping tap... A new project on Instagram calls for recordings from one’s confined environment. Titled ‘Share Your Quiet’, the initiative was the brainchild of Pallavi Paul, a multimedia artist and Ph.D student at Jawaharlal Nehru University. Though Delhi-based herself, Paul’s project is open to everyone. After taking off on March 26, the project has over 200 audio recordings from places around the world, including Serbia, Portugal, France, Italy, China, and of course, India. 

“The Janata Curfew showed us this bizarre display of public spirit, that was full of noise. But what about those who chose to withdraw and instead ask pressing questions about the lives of workers?,” points out Paul, who was approached by Sunaparanta Goa Centre for the Arts for a surviving self-quarantine project.

The result was ‘Share Your Quiet’, which Paul terms as a space that houses gestures like withdrawal from noise and the choice of non-participation. “Social media is throwing up lots of content. An archive of the noise being made, snippets of hyper-productivity people indulge in and more. But here’s a platform for you to express your quietude,” says the 32-year-old. 

Here’s where the name also plays a part. “Silence can sometimes be forced. Choosing to be quiet, however, is an act of agency,” explains Paul, who was surprised by the response she received. Among the 200 clips, three stood out for her: The beeping of a hospital machine, the sound of a saw, and that of a child reciting poetry in the background. “It helps that people don’t need to display an understanding of the situation. 

It is just a recording of their senses,” she adds. About 50-60 such clips are compiled and uploaded on Sunaparanta’s Instagram page (@sunaparanta_goa) every Monday, until the lockdown ends. According to Bengaluru-based multimedia artist Amshu Chukki, who also sent a recording, this edit of a soundscape works well. “You listen without realising the seamless transition or who sent what. There’s an anchoring of the collective instead of a geographical one,” he says, adding that he sent in the birdsong he could hear from his window. “Something like this also makes you slow down and gives you a sense of presence and immediacy. It can only be helpful in these times.” 

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