The week of Golden Hours
It was not meant to happen but it did. What, How and When can be defined in these incidences but why it happened they both wondered. Why would two people from totally different worlds and walks of life altogether meet in a strange coincidence, why two people who by all the norms of the society would be called as ‘settled’, feel the need and desire to spend time with each other ; why two people who weren’t even supposed to meet share their inner feelings , their struggles, their aspirations, their joys, their sorrows, their emptiness, their comforts and discomforts with each other, why!!!! I wondered along as I saw them approaching again on that bridge. It was the fifth day in a row that I saw them when I was retreating to my home after a hard days toil. I was expecting them I guess.
I like to flow along with the breeze at that hour of the day when you are done with all your chores, the sun is setting and all what lies ahead in the day is a starry moonlit peaceful night. This was the time, five days back, that I saw that Red and black car heading one way on the bridge. Its routine for me to watch these commuters starting from one end of that long Bridge on the sea and exiting from the other. They never returned. Some went slow, some a little faster, but eventually they all would leave that bridge on one side or the other. But it was strange that this car returned after some time. The sun was setting behind the skyline of that megacity and I was curious. ‘ Maybe they might have forgotten something’, I thought. But it didnt seem so, the car was moving very slowly in the outermost lane while other cars zoomed past it. ‘if something was forgotten, the car would move faster’, I thought. I was curious. So I went closer to have a look, I had nothing else much to do.
I saw both of them sitting besides each other and laughing, a guy driving the car and a girl sitting besides him. There was soft music playing. Occasionally, both would stop and stare at the scene unfolding infront of them. They would then look at each other, smile and start talking again. I saw that scene everyday so I knew what they were looking it. And what a scene it was. I saw it with those two meandering souls that day, and it was truly amazing. The sun, round and orange, setting beyond the silhouette of those tall buildings at a distance, the corners of the setting sun eclipsed by the outline of those buildings, the gaps in the skyline which showed the full roundness of the sun setting into the sea which lay on the other side of those tall buildings, countless offices, homes and lives in that moving frame, the calmness of the sea between with a still boat that lay in isolation from the busy world around it, two birds just flying perfectly blending into the dimming rays of the setting sun, the cool evening breeze blowing across on which the birds seemed to ride and glide, it was indeed a golden hour. There would be silence between them when they saw ahead but there also seemed to be a dialogue still happening within that silence unfolding along with the scene infront. They called each other with strange names though, the guy was addressed as P while the girl, Cindy. Both of them seemed at peace with each other, exchanging looks and glances and laughter, but also an eagerness to know more, maybe wanting to fill in the void within them. ‘Did they or did they not know each other’, I thought. Curiosity led me to be close to them and see what happens, so I did.
It was clockwork. They both would turn up everyday at the same time in that slow pace moving from one end of the bridge to other and then back from the other end towards the city watching the sun set. She would tell him about how she liked things around which led her to her comfort zone, the things she liked doing, about her liking for room lit with small lamps, her attraction towards the sky and the moon, her impromptu trips to Kasol, her love for fragrances, boardgames, good food, wine, ambience and company; her arduous, strict yet funny training to get a driving license in Dubai story, her sweet sour moments with her mother, about how her friends were most valuable to her, the lightness she felt after she blazed a joint and about her husband and how they managed stuff between them. She had a rather sweet peculiar way of saying stuff as shtufff. He told her about how his struggles, how he liked room filled with small lamps, his love for distinct meaningful moments shared with someone, his attraction towards the sky and the moon and the stars, his aspirations of getting lost in time and space, his shortcomings and his desires. They gelled seamlessly. One would pick up from where the other left. She had expressive eyes and a sweet voice. She would get into small troubles in the meanwhile but would come out of them with flying colours. They would talk again and she would get a call again. She moved from solving one problem to another on call and he just liked her presence nearby. They seemed to be the complimenting shadows which completed each other. They liked doing similar things, some stories in their otherwise opposite lives turning out to be common in how they felt in the situations but differing in the people and places. They didnt know the names of the other but somehow knew much more than most knew about them, it felt. I would watch them curiously everyday blending into each others company. He would leave her at a spot everyday, they would hug and bid goodbye, look at each other one time and leave. Everyday they left each other, it felt like the last time they met but something would happen and I would see the car with them inside again the next day driving once away and then towards the setting sun.
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One day they went to a live orchestra. She was skeptical that he would sleep through it like all the others before him that accompanied her, but he didnt. He liked it as much as she did. They spoke about the soul in the music played by the numerous violinists and musicians. The royal ambience was fascinating to both. The next day, they crossed the silhouette of the buildings to the other side of the city. He showed her the setting sun just behind the Dargah in the sea on one side and how that faint golden light from the setting sun reflected from the glasses of the magnificent high rise buildings on the other side of the road that split the scene. How slowly as they moved, the night fell and with it came the utter darkness on one side of the road and glittering lights in those skyscrapers to the other. The road seemed like it led from and to the sea winding and providing a wonderful site on both sides.
In between, she would prepare for life changing job interviews while speaking to him and he would wish her luck and try not disturbing her while she prepared. It didnt seem that they had come to know of each others existence less than a week ago. But again, such are the lines of fate that bring two unknown people together for moments that leave memories which last for a lifetime. So it felt between them. You cant define or name what it was between them, but it seemed effortless and beautiful. They liked the company of the other.
It was the fifth day they met and it was nearing the time for her to leave. As the time drew nearer, there seemed to be some hesitation between them, as if not being able to express how they were feeling about each other. As if they wanted to speak but didn’t have either the words or expressions to define how they felt, which was strange as all they did over the past five days was , talk. They stopped at the usual place for her to get down. She started to get down and he picked up his things to roll. He didn’t know how else to react, what to say, what to feel and what to express. Maybe she didn’t either. So she said that after a small call, she would like to take a whiff as well. Both seemed happy to have some more time with each other. So they wandered around for some more time, talking, hesitating, looking at each other and talking again. Finally, it was time for her to go. The moon roof of the car had the street light coming in and lighting her face up. I could see the sadness in their eyes as they hugged goodbye. Maybe he wanted to hold the hug for a little longer but his conscience didnt allow him. I could see his eyes moist. Maybe he suddenly knew that these moments was never even meant to be, but still meant something.
She got out, struggled for an auto, came back to bid a goodbye again from the window , like showing herself for the last time, and then left.Maybe she did look out of the auto while it went past the car. He went ahead, looked up to the sky with moist eyes, lowered his gaze only to find a cap of her fragrance lying in the car. He picked it up and brought it close to take in the scent, as if to feel her presence near him, looked at the moon, started his car, turned around and left.
I went back to the bridge hoping I would get to see them effortlessly floating in this time and space together the next day at the same hour. But they didnt come. I still don’t know ‘why’ they came and ‘why’ suddenly they, didn’t.
Maybe, the week of golden hours just ended.
