I love sunshine.
And I haven’t been lazy at choosing. I have had my phases: the years I jumped into every rain, no matter where the vampire years when I spent every living moment cooped up in a hostel room with an excuse of a vent for a window. Following this, every room I stayed in had big windows. My curtains got thicker as the windows got bigger over the years, till they turned into two curtains sewed onto each other to not disturb my sleep in the morning.
When I was staying alone in a big house in Pune, working from home, never leaving the house, I started noticing tiny things the house did at different times of the day. It must have seemed inaccessible and invisible to people. Nothing ever happened and you couldn’t hear much. But I discovered that there was a time in the day when the house became golden yellow when the birds got louder and children came out to play. I found myself smiling at the modest geometry of the 4 pm sunlight on the walls and on the floor. It shifts little by little, higher up the wall, till 6, when the world goes dim and it’s neither day nor night.
I would go around the house with my camera on better days. Put on Ludovico and lay in my bed and look at the life I had created. I still do that. Lie down on the sofa in my study and admire the sunlight. The sunshine is so yummy, it feels like where ever it touches my skin, it seeps in and cleanses the insides, killing the fungi growing in my brain, and the sadness in the pit of my stomach. It is my belief like the one people have in Art of living, ISCON, Religion, Nykka that this light when it touches my skin helps my mental health. I feel like a Bollywood actress in a hair/skin/phone/soap/vacation app advertisement: glowing, as if through translucent skin, soft indie background music accompanying her while she wins a race in all white clothing.