The Setting Sun

With each setting sun, the horizon turns red, flaming saffron like the flames from a grate. Though it has no warmth to offer but it has infinite capabilities to calm down a disturbed self. It has peace to serve and tranquility to apply as a balm in your wounds.

Though every morning, as the sun lifts the curtains of the dark sky, and spreads its vibrance across the rooftops of the many buildings and the infinite fields of the old farmers, through the glass panes of the skyscrapers and into the cracks of the door, it raises hopes and spreads energy.

From the roosters hooting at dawn to the bats flying back to their caves, the crows leaving their nests and the sparrows chirping in hunger, there is a feeling of a new happening with each rising sun. Sages offer their devotion by holy baths on the Ghats and people offer handful of water at the rising sun, some perform yoga and many jog around tracks and stadiums.

No doubt there is much to see with the rising sun, but does it seem that the setting sun is somehow less happening? Does the end of the day seem less energetic or disdain? Perhaps it does, because it has its own reasons.

Where the rising sun brings in a vibrance of energy to be transmitted into each living being, the setting sun probably takes away all their griefs. It soothes the wounds of  the day and liberates the pains of all beings. It compensates for their losses of the day and tells them that a new dawn is about to rise, be cheerful.

A failed lover sees the dawning sun, red in flames and probably resonates his wrath with it. He calms himself with its intensity that serves as a reason to be hopeful and optimistic, that following the darkness a new dawn awaits it in another living form. There is hope, for after every sun-down comes a brighter sun-lift, fresh and cheerful, energetic and hopeful.

A prisoner sees it as a day less in custody, as a step towards liberty, as a foot closer towards his freedom and family. He equalises himself with its dissolving aura and believes that his sins are perishing along with the end of the day.

An army man's wife marks it as the hope of her husband's return from the war with the following dawn. She equates the drowning sun to his victory of the battle, she imagines him hosting the conquering flag on the hilltop and packing his bags to return back to his family tomorrow.

A servant takes it as his leave from his monotonous work schedule, wondering if he shall be granted an off tomorrow. Wondering if it could mean a Sunday for him on a regular weekday. He has hopes to go shopping and roam around the city tomorrow.

A refugee takes it as a step closer to a pond and shelter. He hopes to find a home away from home,  to find a peaceful and comfortable place to spend the night at after weeks of loitering and battering in hopelessness.

A sunflower takes it as yet another parting with beliefs that the sun will be there for it tomorrow again, to keep the eternal and everlasting relation of  their bond alive. It signifies hope and happiness, for the sun been there since times immemorial to evaporate the cold dewdrops of the night's mist from its petals.

The sunset, lovely it is, for it sparks hopes in innumerable souls and beings. Tranquil it is, for it is soothing unlike the morning sun that is filled with heat and zeal. It marks an ending for a happy and more hopeful beginning, with a promise that it shall return with more faith and energy to transmit in all living forms.

So beautiful is the sunset, when it dusks behind leafless trees and shrubs that all want it to stay, yet it chooses to go away, for without its departure no source of another energy would dare to come again.

The sunset, witness it today, as it falls, for there is perhaps no better medicine, no better syrup that can wipe all your worries and doubts in a moment, that only lasts lesser than any desire.