I remember an evening, sometime during my 3rd semester at IISER-K. I was riding back from class and found the surroundings dazzling with melancholy. It looked like a scene out of an anime. The sun was about to set, but had gone behind a huge grey cloud instead, leaving a faint, yet universal, glow over the lush foliage. This was accompanied by a strong wind and the smell of rain, which amplified all senses, and before long, I was forced to stop and click a picture.
Ever felt something and thought: “This, right here, is a feeling I’ll never feel again”? Well, this was one of those moments. And the above picture is just a hopeless effort to preserve it. Obviously, my mobile camera doesn’t do justice, but you get the point.
Life moves on. Somehow it becomes more evident once you start living on your own. Two years ago, when I left Mangalam Park, I knew things will never be the same again. And with my parents moving away to Mumbai, even the mental anchor of having a home vanished into thin air. All of a sudden there was this complete lack of a central place in life. I can’t deny the sweet sense of adventure in the entire thing. But it’s scary. Kind of.
I guess it’s human nature to spend time searching for little constant things amidst all the chaos. Be it a certain fleeting moment captured between daylight and nightfall, or a sense of belonging to a certain place or person.
Sometimes, I guess, you need to forget your cameras and go dancing in the rain. Rejuvenated, you might want to start afresh.