Missing the music of the doorbell in lockdown
The other day as I stood near our gate, my gaze fell on the doorbell. I realised that it had been long since I’d heard it ring. It seemed to complain: “Nobody comes, nobody goes these days.”
Instinctively, I pressed the bell and my husband came out to see who had come visiting during the lockdown. I smiled and said that it had been awhile since I’d heard our doorbell ring.
The doorbell rings in varied emotions and expectations and evokes a range of reactions and responses. At times, we rush to the door to answer it, while at other times we tip-toe to the window to see who is at the door.
It seems musical when we are expecting a friend, brings a smile when it announces the domestic help’s arrival, is sheer joy when the children come home, and is exciting when we’re awaiting an e-commerce parcel.
Each visitor presses the doorbell in a different way. The long ring, the short one, the double effect, the hurried milkman’s ring, where he presses it twice in 10 seconds, and the lazy one. Then there’s the intermittent ringing and the unintentional one that makes us rush outside only to find a stranger or delivery boy at the door. He sheepishly says that he intended to press the first floor bell but didn’t notice the arrows marked for ground floor and the one above. We exchange a cursory smile and return.
Often children in the neighbourhood playfully press the bell and hide behind pillars, waiting slyly for the response of the aunty who never returns their cricket ball if it lands up in her courtyard. The children chuckle for ringing the doorbell is a game of flighty fun.
When the doorbell rings at odd times like in the middle of the night, it can be scary. It can be irritating when you’re getting ready to leave for work and it can be distracting when it rings in the middle of cooking a tricky dish but it is most exasperating when someone rings it in the afternoon and disrupts your precious nap. It’s a test of patience to find a salesman promoting products of his company.
The ring of the doorbell can bring back fond memories, too. Our school assembly bell could sound like a warning bell or a dispersal bell, depending on the time of the day and our mood. It sounded musical at the end of the day.
Today’s generation has sirens and hooters in educational institutions and they hardly ring the doorbell at home. They usually text or call to say they’re waiting outside.
But in these times of social distancing because of coronavirus, I miss the doorbell’s ringing. I’m waiting for the day to dawn when it will nudge me out of my listless and leisurely routine to welcome a neighbour, a friend, the domestic help or even a delivery boy or salesman with non-essential items.
I hope the day is not far when I see the doorbell work at home again.
THE DOORBELL RINGS IN VARIED EMOTIONS AND EXPECTATIONS AND EVOKES A RANGE OF REACTIONS AND RESPONSES