disorder around the staircase
the rattle of metal rods and the patter of small feet
drown the gentle ringing of bells
that dangle on the door of the puja room
intricately placed within perfectly carved bell-shaped holes
mixed and mingled
with the steamy hiss of a pressure cooker in the kitchen
filled with hot, soft idlis
waiting to be devoured with ghee and karapodi
by eager hands and hungry mouths
in the background somewhere
a serial plays on Gemini TV
a rerun from the night before
the high-pitched voice of a televised mother-in-law
contrasts with the low-pitched voice of the real-life one
layers and layers of sounds
further blanketed by the ringing of the doorbell
its ten-second tune momentarily muting the rest of the chaos
despite being chaos itself
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