The moving window never looked so beautiful. The view kept changing but the warmth stayed; the sunlight shone bright. Such an experience is hard to come by in the winters of New York. The mosaic beyond the window; the colours of the fall, seemed to dance in the glittering gold. As I squinted my eyes, I could just make out the colours of my sweater looking happy in the sun, the shine in my hair glad to have found a loving, gentle touch and the gorgeous ticker tape fixed in the window frame moving with the speed of the subway.
This still remains my favourite section of the ride till the darkness of the underground Grant Ave sucks the tube into it and reminds me of what still needs to be done in the day ahead. This warmth however, is of no ordinary distinction. It is the kind that knocks on memories.
This is the closest I have come to feeling as comfortable as I did lying under the blanket with my mother and father, holding her hand and troubling him while he solved Sudoku. From so far away, home seems to be a distant heaven. The comfort of the sun and the feel of the blankets around you when you are home as you can distantly hear your mother’s bangles clinking while she is hard at work in the house are not very different. The joy of putting a smile on your Dad’s face as you tease him brings you the same satisfaction and affection as the sun bestows on us every other morning. Lying by the pond, reading; waiting for a hint of sound from my Dad’s car as he heads home from office seems to be an under-appreciated luxury now.
However, the good thing about sunlight is, it is bound to shine. It might not bestow us with its love each day but you know that after many cold, cloudy days you will bask in the sun. It might be irregular; absent for long periods, but its existence is unquestionable. Its love toward you is unquestionable.
The sunlight will shine upon you, for that is its nature.