Sunset

As she approached the bend on the walking track at the far end of the park, Apoorva slowed down despite herself and her gaze automatically turned towards the sky. It was late evening; after a winter’s day of hard work the sun had grown mellow but the sky was ablaze with colour. So many hues of orange! Like every single time when she took the bend, Apoorva whipped out the phone from the pocket of her joggers and aimed it at the sun-painted sky. Click, click, click. She now ambled along the tree-lined path, looking above, reluctant to take her eyes off the glorious view. All along the circular 2-km track, the sky kept her company, sometimes playing hide and seek, sometimes unabashedly in plain view. At every step it presented a singular view: it peeped shyly through the still-green leaves of the eucalyptus, looked down brazenly through the thorny twigs of the leafless khejri, oozed like molten teardrops through the lofty branches and down the heart-shaped leaves of the towering peepal...

The evening walk was a daily, much-loved ritual for Apoorva and she always took the stroll on her own. It was 'Me Time; then, all else could wait. But she was never alone. The regulars at the park, although they rarely stopped to speak to each other, were comrades in this everyday routine. There was that elderly couple, the woman always walking a little ahead, the man limping behind, both in uninterrupted conversation without the woman ever stopping or turning back to see if her companion was keeping up with her. There was no need to; they walked at a regular pace, far enough not to be in each other’s way yet close enough to be able to speak and listen to one another, and a steady conversation flowed between them during their entire stroll. Then there was the twenty-something healthy girl with a purposeful stride, walking as fast as she could, apparently with a goal in mind. Was she just health-conscious or was there was a marriage in the offing and she had been asked to lose weight for the impending ceremony? ‘Beti, shaadi se phle ekdum fit ho jao to aur sundar lagogi,’ had the future mom-in-law sneaked in order in the guise of a false concern? Whatever the reason, the girl’s effort seemed to be paying off, she definitely seemed a lot slimmer since Apoorva first noticed her over a month ago. There was always a kid or two riding their bikes with big smiles on their faces, proud of their newly-acquired skill, impatiently ringing the bicycle bell to alert anybody walking ahead to get out of the way. Sometimes a couple would appear with an infant in a stroller, the baby cooing happily along with the birds. Of course, there were always people walking their dogs, the children playing ‘fetch’ with them, both dog and child delirious with joy. Not infrequently, there were those who were unable or unwilling to put aside their mobile phones; some catching up with family or friends, some giving instructions and conducting their office business even as they took a walk in the park. These were the ones who never stopped to look at the peacocks that roamed around freely, the naughty squirrels running up and down the trees or at the vibrant sky overhead.

A few of the familiar faces exchanged smiles as they passed by, some simply nodded at each other, and some just kept to themselves and never seemed to notice anybody else. They were all part of Apoorva’s evening walk. But her eyes always searched for the duo, an aged woman and a much younger man, that always entered the park at almost sundown, usually when Apoorva was about to return home. The man always holding the woman’s hand as she struggled along, her back bent, trying hard to keep her steps from faltering. Perhaps the woman was recuperating from an illness and the daily walks were essential for her recovery. Were they mother and son? Older sister and younger brother? Friends? A woman married to a much younger man? That did not matter. What mattered was that they cared for each other, he enough to hold her hand without releasing it once during the entire time as they went around the track, she enough to trust him instinctively and to follow where he led. He held her hand firmly, never letting go, supporting her and urging her to walk along, she obviously too weak to walk unaided but reassured and confident she could make it through with his help. There was a sense of urgency in the way the man held the woman’s hand as if he was afraid that he would lose her if he let go. He seemed determined to never leave her hand, she seemed to gain strength from his firm grasp and pushed ahead haltingly, stubbornly plodding along without complaint. They were there, without fail, every single day. Apoorva always looked out for them, happy to see them together, yet nostalgic and wistful, reminded of how the hand that once held hers was snatched away by cruel fate several years ago.  

But there was no sign of the couple today. ‘What could have happened?’ Apoorva murmured to herself. Had the woman taken ill and was unable to move around? Had something happened to the man? Did they have some kind of emergency at home? Maybe the man was just held at work, she hoped. They would appear again tomorrow, she tried to reassure herself.

Unwilling to leave before she had seen them enter the park, Apoorva kept on walking, taking the bend yet again. The sun was going down rapidly and the bright orange was beginning to fade. It was time to go home. Dejected, Apoorva walked towards the exit in the dying light. She walked out of the gate and reluctantly turned towards home. The sun had now truly set and the sky had turned a dreary grey.