Nights in Dubai

Nights in Dubai, you are struck by the silence. It strikes you like a slap to the side of the face, this silence, a ghostly ringing, the sound of what you are not hearing.

I think what I was not hearing was the constant background din of construction and traffic in Mumbai. Noise Pollution.

Obviously, you do not realise how loud your home is, until you visit the desert.

After dark in Dubai, my ears would ring. It seemed to come from outside but the conditions for its existence were in my mind. The instrument of my consciousness, the thing in which I hear things, was formed, like volcanic rock, around something loud and sizzling.

If you could map the waveform of the ringing, I’m certain the rises and falls would be the exact equal and opposite of the soundscape of Mumbai.

Growing up in Mumbai marks you with its loudness.What was previously in the background of my experience, was brought to the forefront, in the silence of Dubai.

Which brings up the question, naturally, what was everybody else hearing? The rest of the immigrant population, 91 % of Dubai, with instruments of hearing formed in Bangladesh, Somalia, Pakistan, Egypt, Indonesia, Philippines, Lebanon…

They too must have taken something for granted, something in the background of their experience, now manifesting as an absence, like a record played backwards, a slap to the face.

I suppose you get used to it, after a while, —the silence, like you got used to the noise. But the sounds of our homes, our backgrounds, speak to us in mysterious ways, in the unlikeliest of places.

Nobody hears the same thing, after dark in Dubai. 91% of the population goes to sleep in a unique silence, tuned to the radio station of what they ignored, before they were in Dubai.