Paradise

The sun wasn’t there in the sky when I went up to the terrace that evening. Generally, I could still make out its shape during this time. But the clouds looked like some artist’s paintbrush had carelessly stretched a queer mixture of yellow, orange and red across the sky – first in a line, then thicker, bulging at the top, then in a long line tapering at the end.

I have watched the sun many times. Not out of particular interest though – they were all coincidences. I have been present on beaches when the sun set turning the turquoise waters a brighter, enchanting shade. When we took that long drive with ‘Sleep on the Floor’ blasted on the radio that was all part of a dream, I woke up with the memory of a setting sun cast a pinkish red color on the sky, still on my eyes. The day I lost the most important person in my life, the sun sank beneath the Earth giving me time to think as they carried her coffin towards the graveyard, the sun set on me, plunging me into the darkness.

Today was different though. I watched the bright clouds while sitting on the table in the middle of our terrace. I was curled up into a ball, my knees pulled to my chest. A soulful song was playing somewhere but I don’t really remember what it was about. I don’t even think I want to, because the feeling I experienced in that moment could not be replicated in a place as fake as this world. The air was pleasant and I could feel the wind in my hair. A flock of birds flew across and I felt a smile make its way across my lips.

It was almost dark now. When just a fraction of the clouds still had light in them, I shook off the enchantment and watched the sky with undivided attention. The color slowly, almost unnoticeably drained out of the clouds. It was all so familiar – the darkness, the minarets of the mosque ahead, the smell of the wind, the sound of the motor bikes race below. It was all beautiful in its own way.

And that’s when it dawned on me – the beauty, the true meaning behind what I had started thinking was only a dream. You didn’t wait for anyone to tell you, you were beautiful. You always knew it and made everyone around you believe in it. You were there in the form of the brightest star in the galaxy that stretched across my heart. So, even if those clouds were floating somewhere else that evening, even if the music didn’t exist, I’d still get lost in paradise.

~ dedicated to the strongest, most amazing woman I had the blessing of calling my grandmother.

Written by Inara Alam Edited by Rayna Mukherjee

Illustrated by Shailaja Yasmine Das