Chasing the Sunset
Early evening, just in front of P Block: having had snacks consisting of okayish banana bajji or a samosa and a tea which almost seems bland in comparison to the one Amma makes at home, — you still drink it because what else alternative is available — Just coffee, which you have to make yourself – with already boiled milk, decoction in a flask and sugar. But you don’t have the patience to actually do it, do you? Besides, you convince yourself, nothing I can make can come near Amma’s perfection — you decide to take a walk.
This is your idea of ‘going out’. While others of your age foray into the Vellore cityside multiple times during a regular week in groups (indeed, sometimes multiple times in a day), the maximum extent of your walking tends to be circling around the M, N, P Block complex, or walking almost two kilometers to J and H Blocks and back. Not that you are visiting a friend or anything, God forbid. No, this is what qualifies as a ‘real’ exercise to you.
The time is five-fifteen, and it is perfect, considering you had your afternoon nap (from 2.30 – 5.00) and woke up just in time to catch the snacks. You scrolled your phone or watched a video (most likely from the Parithabangal YouTube channel — for it seems they upload videos on days you eat ‘raw banana bajji’ (as seen on the menu) — you dismiss it as a ‘weird’ coincidence before rationalizing that they probably have a predefined schedule (unlike you), and upload videos regularly on Thursdays and on the weekends) — while eating the oily, soggy bajji bathing in the coconut chutney and as you drink the hot tea.
Then you ventured out and saw people walking about. People were always walking about in VIT. Few people own cycles that take them places and fewer use the shuttles (it costs 20 rupees for a trip). About eighty percent of VIT students prefer walking. Then you think to yourself, wouldn’t it be great for a walk?
You see, you are the type of person who fancies himself doing stuff, instead of actually doing it. Oh yeah, I like to write. That’s what the many, many unfinished drafts of single paragraphs in my Google Docs are all about. Yeah, I like to read. That’s what the bag full of overflowing books in the cupboard and the five books on your table, all unread, are about. You like to walk, sure, because it is such a fun, healthy and calming thing to do. But if given a chance to take a walk around campus or sleep for three hours in the room, you always, without a doubt, choose the latter.
But today something stirs in you, and you decide to walk anyway. You’ve been ‘walking’ for a few days in fact: the evening seems to be the perfect time to call Amma — who you didn’t call in the morning because you didn’t eat breakfast because you were practically running from your room to the class, lest you lose your attendance — and while on call, you walk around P Block. It would be nice to tear your eyes off the bright screen once in a while to see trees, roads, people, clouds, and stuff.
You trace the road before P Block as you talk to your mother and encircle it. You walk towards Q and R Blocks, just opposite P. The call ends, with your mother going to prepare coffee for herself, your father, and your sister, which you sorely miss. You still walk anyway, because it feels good. ‘Sure, everything will feel good when you’re not looking at your phone’ as Amma would say.
It is right then that a peculiar feeling hits you: the feeling of the sun’s rays on your face. What would be insufferable during the midday now seems genuinely inviting and pleasant. Wow. Feels fresh. You stop in your tracks for a moment, close your eyes, and savor the feeling. The rays are filtered like droplets through the numerous tree foliage. You decide you want a better view, so you move further. The sun comes into clear view, just floating above the horizon, cresting the shrubbery and trees. You resume your walking.
As if by involuntary action, your steps trace the line of shrubberies and trees and you always keep moving to get a better view of the graceful sunset. At each possible juncture, you stop and savor the rays on your face. And you keep moving. The thing is, the sun is playing hide-and-seek with you. Here, it is in clear view. Now it is being filtered through tree leaves. Now it has disappeared behind particularly dense foliage. Now it is hidden behind the massive mammoth-type, gargantuan buildings of Q and R blocks. You are slightly irritated that you cannot always keep the sun in view while walking.
You decide to overcome this fact by going behind the blocks, where there are fewer obstructions. All the while, the sun is cresting the horizon, teasing you, and playing the eternal game of hide-and-seek. Finally, you arrive at a place where it is clear and you take in the great view. The sun is barely touching the horizon, and the long rays coat the buildings behind you in a beautiful orange hue.
You have caught up with the sunset.
For a while, the stress and tensions (if any) of daily life seem to fade away.
For a while, the self-loathing and blaming fade into the distance.
The fears of the immediate and distant future seem to melt away to leave you, alone, in a moment of profound connection with nature. The sky is absolutely clear, a few birds fly by, and there’s miraculous silence even if a hundred people are always walking. For a few moments, your eyes are free from the constant strain of the screen and gaze on the eternal beauty of nature.
Later, when you are walking with your friends to buy dinner, you marvel at the twilight sky with its purple-orange grading which seems like a miracle to you. You attempt to take a photo of the moon and a star captured in this background, but sadly your phone camera cannot replicate the spectacular view caught by the human eye.
The birds near the blocks are crying shrilly, the students are laughing with their friends, you’ve not seen your phone for about an hour, and the night is young.
