On a humid August day on one of Kolkata's many flat roofs, I listened to the traffic below. Looking at the outskirts of the city, it seemed like the only concrete island among thousands of concrete islands stretched across the horizon. There was a sound ocean around me. As thousands of people crossed the city's concrete sidewalks, curved cars wandered at the scene. This artificial friction sometimes produces a sonic canvas of different sounds, sometimes played with a wall wall or a rhythmic metal ring.
While competing for the best dishes and best rivets, hiding in the market was almost marvelous, with top screams, shouts and songs of various crows, carols and manna. This medium-sized conversation resulted in an increase in the speed of the deep seat, which could be felt until vehicles and unmanned aircraft could be heard. Evening prayer was overturned as it stood in the midst of the crash of a thousand worlds. Rich drums and shaking yards frame the following sounds. I realized that I was listening to an allegorical composition, not a city religion. Each sonic layer was implemented. The rhythmic flow flowed over drones and sound tissues. Unexpected events took the form of a piece, and sticking together was a brilliant melody.
