The most ignored event in our everyday lives is the sunset. This occurrence happens above us, around us, and on us, yet we discard it like derelict children at a traffic signal, like the mother-in-reign going blind at the motherless, or like in the momentary remorselessness we gape at those chickens at the butcher shop.
Sunset offers us, time and again, the opportunity to embrace its millions of flightless wings— their rays. We could hop on each wing to take a journey across continents. Yet we choose not to hop on. It presents a chance to delve into a poem of love written by nature and steeped in mystery, but we shut it out like an unwanted guest at the gates of our façade. Sunset pampers us, inciting rare and profound feelings—feelings no mother can bestow, no king can grant through charity, and no poet can soothe with tender words. It holds the power to allay our fears, rekindle our humanity, and unlock eternal joy. Sunset is, by every measure, an unending magic—a pathway to happiness for those who pay attention to its charm. To ignore the sunset is to ignore our own senses, our very selves, and the life that strives to show us its ceaseless love, honesty, and truth. It is a delusion to believe that the sunset never loved us. We prepare ourselves and remain determined to stay in the darkness once it disappears, even after it hopelessly tries to prove its true love for us.
Sunset calms our unspent energy, pacifies our needless ambitions, allays our worries about targets and tasks, and perhaps routes our thoughts and focus toward our family and loved ones. Sunset makes our lives personal; it marks a departure from materialism and the arrival of love and estimable personal feelings. Sunset expands our thoughts for ourselves rather than for others. You could hear your voice sounding dulcet, your eyes glimmering with renewed light, and your body feeling nimble and agile - contrary to dwelling on regrets about the fine portions of life you’ve overlooked. Sunset extends hope into the dark night, assuring us that the warmth of the sun will return the next day at dawn
I remember a million sunsets, though I have lived only a few thousand days, as I chew on the event and ponder always for a sunset. If the clock strikes past 4 p.m., my mind steers and turns to the sky and searches for the fresh hints of an evening; the grandeur of the downing of curtains of the day never ceases to amuse me. Like I said, every feeble ray from the day's dying sun is a flightless wing that leaves a fleeting light upon my body. An event of a final shower of life on earth by photons, awakening the last cascade of chemical reactions within us.
Years ago, in my formative years, I had observed the splendid sunsets at the bank of river Cauvery, its final dip served as an alarm, signaling that our joyous, chaotic outdoor games were coming to an end. During my college days, the orange sunset at the banks of Yamuna, at the backdrop of my campus, left bittersweet notes in my heart. They reminded me of being far away from home and loved ones but also consoled me, as if the sunset had touched them too, bridging the distance.
One of the most magnificent sunsets I have witnessed was at the foot of Mt. Kanchenjunga. To truly grasp its splendor, one must view the sunset from the foothills of Pelling, gazing directly at the towering mountain. As the sun dips, Kanchenjunga reveals its warmth and inner layers—the rugged terrain exposing its snowy top, wilderness, and rocky structures bathed in golden light. It stands tall, a silent colossus, filling the eyes with elegance and the soul with fullness.
The sunset at the Bay of Bengal transforms the seashore entirely blue and denser as the rays stretch from a distance, and making the horizon murkier and darker. However, the sunset at the Arabian Sea is the most alluring and captivating, as any sun event near the equator is the fullest and most gleaming, and the sun displaces its most powerful plans and appearances in this region. I witnessed my first mindful sunset over the Arabian Sea at Malpe Beach; I saw the disappearance of the sun, slowly, gradually, and treacherously swallowed by the monstrous Indian Ocean. Each time I visit this beach, I both bereave and behold the vanishment of the sun. You could be in awe to talking to the sun in the evenings at Kodachadri hills at 4400 ft in the Western ghats. Sunset at Marine Drives, Mumbai, makes you feel vibrant and prepares you to get lost in the sundry of the city’s ethos. The sunset from our nest makes our thoughts coherent, and watching the last pack of lights with the hope we return back tomorrow with the same joy and fervor for each other.
One of the most memorable sunsets was that one I witnessed in New Orleans. The deep orange rays blanketed the entire city and its pristine sky embraced every bit of light it could bestow. I have never seen such a marvel and magic, and the evening is deeply entrenched in my brain through my eyes. The next day, I anticipated the same magic along the banks of the Mississippi River—the fastest, most powerful, and dynamic river I have ever seen. It treated the sun as if it were her little son, gently downsizing its light and cradling the sun’s reflection on its vast stretch of waters. Another cherished memory is the sunset at Pike Place Market in Seattle, where the Puget Sound estuary exposed the sun, signing off across the Pacific Ocean. The sunset in New York offered a different kind of spectacle – the sly method of replacing the natural with man-made lights. The majestic start of illumination of skyscrapers with electric lights could be seen from a distance at the bank of the Hudson River, and at the same time, watching the Statue of Liberty that ensnared the last feed of the natural light was some least said to be spectacular if not vividly retelling all times. The philosophical fights between sunlight and electric lights in New York City are a common and mundane affair. I wish to see the Sunset from Karachi, Capetown, Lisbon, Reykjavik, Liverpool, Callo, and Perth.
Besides the beatitude and voluntary indulgence in the sunset, there have been cruel evenings that left a bitter taste in my experience. Sunday evenings, in particular, have always been a nightmare for me. On one such fateful sunset, I had lost precious lives and shattered some hearts. Evenings after a deep siesta often push me into a melancholic state, and once the vibrance and the last hope of the sun’s rays disappeared, the night engulfs me, steeped in fear and confusion. I have always developed deep irrational thoughts on such evenings, leading to long, unwelcome, and brooding nights.
The empire of Sunset is a house of wisdom, filled with kilograms of self-actualization and volumes of thoughts that compel us to revisit our actions throughout the day. Sunset truly makes us greater beings of this world, encouraging us to know about ourselves by merely looking at the sky. It unfolds the poetic briefcase of our minds, inviting us to talk to the vast sky, which, with open arms, embraces our gaze. Sunset douses anger and sparks a fire to seek self-love and self-worth. For most people, the true outcome of their day’s deeds is discovered not in the sunrise, but in the sunset. In this liminal moment, we confront our emotions, reflect on our actions, and connect with something greater than ourselves.
If sunsets have played a significant role in your life, I invite you to share your thoughts in the comment section. I would be more than glad to appreciate, acknowledge, and reciprocate your feelings.
Written in two sunsets by
Anand ¥¥
Comments