I wonder if there is something as remarkable as the evening sky. I look at the drowning sun, and it looks back at me. Is the sun drowning, or is it me? Does the sun give us light and meaning, or do we give them to it.

I wonder if it shines on us equally, or does it treat us differently? Is the sun shining on you with the same softness right now as it is doing on me. Does it radiates harmony. Or is it unkind to you?

Some big questions my head cannot grapple with right now. I must walk on.

The sky is so beatiful today. It's different everyday. But always beautiful. Sometimes it's red, sometimes it's orange. Sometimes there's lots of blue. Each color leaves a different feeling in my heart. They leave me bursting with them. And then there are the clouds of course.

I see at the sky and I see me. I see a younger me playing with the clouds. Or pillows. I can't tell now. Time blurs.

I wear glasses. Got them when I was 14. The Chacha at the store told me it will help me see things clearer. I'm trying to look at the sky. I want to be able to tell myself, what do I see? I asked myself, but I find no answer. So I ask again. And again no answer.

And now both the clouds and pillows are gone. I don't see anything now. is this blindness? Time blurs, but what it really blurs is that which you see in the mirror. And there are mirrors everywhere. Hey, I am standing at one right now.

I can't see anything, but I can hear. I hear the burly voice of my first flatmate from college. In the States. Why do the clouds remind me of him. What is he doing up the clouds. I don't know.

But I can't stop them from reminding me of him. Sometimes now and then, I miss him. In clouds or in deserted delis, I hear him. I hear his voice. I pull out my shaving cream and I smell him. Like he is almost there. He was a good fellow. I hope he is doing fine wherever he is.

I now miss my partner. I must go back to the apartment before night befalls. I miss so many people. But there's an extent to what one can do. One person at a time. That's more than enough.

Thank you for bearing with my evening walk. May the sun shine brightly at you. And may you shine back at it even brightly. You give me life. Give it to those around you too. To the walls, to the plants. To the trees, to the doormat. To the sun.