The Moment

I just saw the part of the sunset after the sunset. I again had this madly harried day where I could not keep up with half the work I was supposed to do. But again, as usual, when the sunset happened I was there on the terrace - the beautiful tapestry that people use words like honey and gold and russet and rust for. And again as usual, I missed the Moment.

The Moment comes a while after the sunset. Sometimes in winters, it can even happen before the sunset. It is when light gives up. It suddenly realises that it is futile to fight the growing dark. It loses faith on itself, and begins to die. When you are watching a sunset, you'll never realise that it is happening. Suddenly a bird call, or the darkening eastern sky, or the honk of a truck passing by on the road…something will distract you, and when you look back again at the sunset, it would have already lost. After the moment, death happens quickly - a matter of moments. Before the moment, it is beautiful and it has something of the permanent about it. After it, it is fast and painless. But right on the moment, though I’ve never seen it, I’m sure it is sad and painful.

The Moment happens to people as well, and to animals too, and to other things, to life and so on. When my grandmother fell ill; her condition worsened and had all of us counting days. But this was when we were looking. She then improved slightly, had us looking away for the moment, and she slipped away. When we looked again she had lost. The same happened with Zarah, the German shepherd the Chatterjee family owned. It also had us believing it would finally make it through as it had a lot of times earlier in its old life. And we had looked away for that one moment. That night I had not slept beside her.

And that makes me wonder about her. Was it because I had looked away? There was this weird feeling I used to get after she left. The word closest to that is guilt. I have no idea why I felt that. I know I could not have helped it. But would it have changed things if I had been there then?

One day I'll stare at the sun for an answer. Even if the world ends all around me, I'll just keep staring straight at the sun, and the dusk after that. I'll not look away even for a second. I'll see if I can stop the moment. I'll hold on with all my strength. I know it is useless, but I only want to know if I could have held on to you, and for how long. If the night still falls, I would have lost this little battle with the dark. But then I want to feel helpless about your leaving, not guilty.