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A Prospect by Ruskin Bond Sounds I Like To Hear

Ruskin Bond explores the many sounds of nature in a mountain village in the Himalayas. He describes sounds like the rain drumming on rooftops, streams bubbling over rocks, birds singing, and temple bells ringing in the distance. Bond finds beauty in both nearby sounds and those carried from afar by the wind. He concludes by urging the reader to listen to sounds of nature like the wind in the trees, grass singing, and beauty of silence.

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SIDHARTH S NAIR
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906 views1 page

A Prospect by Ruskin Bond Sounds I Like To Hear

Ruskin Bond explores the many sounds of nature in a mountain village in the Himalayas. He describes sounds like the rain drumming on rooftops, streams bubbling over rocks, birds singing, and temple bells ringing in the distance. Bond finds beauty in both nearby sounds and those carried from afar by the wind. He concludes by urging the reader to listen to sounds of nature like the wind in the trees, grass singing, and beauty of silence.

Uploaded by

SIDHARTH S NAIR
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
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Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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A prospect by Ruskin bond sounds I like to hear.

Sounds I like to hear is a beautiful exploration of the


soundscape of India. Bond expertly captures in words the numerous sounds that characterize life in
a mountain village of the Himalayas. He beautifully describes the swishing sound of the rain
drumming on the roofs at the beginning of his work. It is tranquil to lie awake listening to the sound
of the rain Ruskin Bond tells us that gentle rain on tin roofs is one of his favourite sounds. After the
rains Bond likes to hear the crow shaking the raindrops from its feathers and going unhappily. He
also listens to the babblers and bulbuls bustling in and out of the bushes and long grass in search of
worms and insects. The sweet sound of the Himalayan Whistling Thrush and the dogs rushing
through the damp undergrowth are mentioned. As Bond was walking near the cherry tree bowed
down by the rain, it flung pellets of water in his face. Ruskin Bond tells us that the best sounds are
made by water, he describes the mountain stream which is in a hurry, bubbling over rocks. It is
compared to a white rabbit tumbling over the hills to reach the bottom in haste. We are here
reminded of the white rabbit in the popular classic Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. He also
likes the sound of the sea heard from afar when he puts a seashell to his ear. He talks about the
sounds made by the dry and thirsty earth as it absorbs a sprinkling of water. He also listens to the
simple sound of a child drinking thirsty, while the water runs down his chin and throat. He then talks
about the sound of water gushing out of the pans of an old well outside the village. The creaking of
the Bullock cartwheels over rough country roads. It is also mentioned the clip-clop of a pony-carriage
and the twinkle of its bell and the sing-song call of its driver is beautifully represented. After these
sounds, the author concentrates on the sounds coming from the mountains. He mentions the bells
ringing in the hills, he talks about the sound of the school bells and the voice of the children drifting
through an open window. He hears the temple bells ringing faintly from across the valley and the
sound of heavy silver angle bells on the feet of sturdy hill women. Sheep bells could also be heard
high up on the mountainside. Ruskin bond tells us about the falling petals which produce a tiny and
soft sound like the drift of falling snow. Then he calls big flowers like dahlias which produces a
definite flop sound when it falls to the ground. As a show off the hawk moth comes flying into the
rooms at night not like the gentle butterfly moving lazily in the afternoon breeze. He calls this as an
instance of show off if you want to listen to the favourite sounds, bound calls us to return to the
birds. The sound of the birds of the plains differs from the birds of the hills in winter. In winter
mornings in the plains of northern India we could hear the familiar call of the black partridge it
seems to cry like Bhagwan Teri Kudrat which means o god great is thy might. The cry of the birds
rises from all directions but an hour later not a bird is to be seen or heard and the jungle becomes
silent. The silence seems to shout at us. Then some sounds come from a distance, they are beautiful
because they are heard from a distance. Some voices are carried by the wind they seem to walk on
the wings of the wind. It carries the sound of the fishermen out on the river, drums beating in a
distant village and the croaking of frogs from the rainwater pond. The nearby sounds can sometimes
be noisy- a frog crocking beneath one's window and the sound made by a moto horn can be quite
jarring for a few. Then Bond talks of homely sounds the sounds coming from the kitchen he gives
examples of a kettle on the boil, a door that creaks on its hinges, old sofa springs, voices in the dark
and ducks quacking in the rain. Afterwards, he returns to the sound of rain which he loves most. He
loves to hear the voices of crickets and grasshoppers and little frogs after the rains in the night but
he heard a mysterious sound on which he could never find the source. He wanted that sound to
remain a mystery even if science could give answers rationally. The work ends with a beautiful poem
in which bond exhorts us to listen to the night wind in the trees, the summer grass singing, the time
that is passing by and the sound of the morning dew. He tells us to listen to the moon as it climbs up
the sky, to the pebbles, humming the mist in the trembling leaves and to the beauty of silence.

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