A rainbow at the day's tail end

 

A gloomy, lukewarm, overcast early October day at the fag end of autumnal corridor. A day on the fringe of all seasons. A disowned day with orphaned feeling. And the sky shedding a few tears, as if in mourning for better times and climes. Some drops of rain leaving just scarring dots on the sand. Then some solacing ray of hope at the time of sunset. The sun calls it off from official duties a few minutes past six. The clouds in the west thinned and orangish curtains cast a faded glow on the darkish grey stage to the east. A little piece of sky over the north-eastern horizon slightly parted to allow the light’s protagonist to raise a beacon of hope. A little arc of rainbow smiled. A rainbow at the end of a gloomy tale proclaiming that there is still hope, that all isn’t lost, that there will be a balmy day tomorrow, or the day afterwards, or still later. But come it will for sure. Then the sun dived further low beyond the faded orange curtain. The little arc of rainbow was gently wiped clean from the sky’s slate.

A beautiful sadly sweet phenomena above and the bustling world below. The India-South Africa cricket match happens to be one of the numerous happenings. The Africans score pretty comfortably in the first forty overs. The Indians then make a comeback, allowing the visitors hardly a run a ball in the slog overs. To we Indians, it means great performance by our bowlers. To the Africans, it means a poor show by their batters. Both have their own versions of reality. Where does truth lie in the equation? I think it’s there in the middle, balancing out both extremes—the Indians bowled well, but the Africans batted poorly also. Doesn’t each of them support the other for its validation? The loser helps the winner in its victory; the winner also facilitates the loser’s defeat.