The result of not having a good camera on me at all times is that I have to pay extra attention to the sights around me so that I may remember the good ones. I am therefore forced to focus on the perfect frame of sunset in front of me. The sun is already gone and has left behind a medley of yellows, blues, purples, blacks and greens. The greens catch my eye. Where the trees are a dark brown silhouette in the background, the lawn in front of me, in its effort to bounce off the setting sun’s light is a warm shade of green. The green is comfortable, soothing and pleasing. It reminds me of my mom’s pallu, the magic cape that never fails to comfort a child.
The air is cool and the road behind me, empty. Laya prances around in the in the distance. Her paws are hidden behind the blades of the grass. All the dogs and their owners have left. We are alone here. She finds her way back to me and sits down. We both watch the drama unfold in the western sky as it changes colors unhurriedly. I remember last Saturday when her and I witnessed the sunrise on the river — similar display of colors but a different sentiment. The sentiment then was of a refreshing and invigorating beginning of a fresh day. The sentiment now is that of relaxing and of dimming, of reducing activities and unbinding. Now is the time to dissolve the turbulence of my life and find stillness. It is the stillness that will balance volatility like a stable pot balances a boiling broth.
Moreover, now is the time to stop writing in my notebook, look upwards and finish gazing.
pallu is an Indian word for the part of a woman’s saree that hangs over the shoulder in the back