Sunset

Write two contrasting pieces (300 – 450 words each) describing a sunset. The first piece should be from the perspective of someone joyful, the second from someone who is depressed. Focus on color and sound in your writing.

Sunset

Writer: Afsah Hassan

The (sad) sunset

 The mighty Sun has been abandoned up there in the blue firmament. The clear sky regresses and scarlet clouds rage forwards and surround the Sun from all sides. The sky is his kingdom and he must strive to save it, but every arrow of sunlight is engulfed by the disloyal clouds: earlier these same clouds had parted submissively to make way for the grand Sun to shine, and now they indulge in bear-faced treason and feel no shame.

Slowly, the darkness begins to wipe out the light: the gold from the gleaming waters is looted; the sparkling waves lie dying as their diamonds are snatched away by the conquering shadows. The water gradually turns into darker hues of blue. Imprisoned in the darkness, the frustrated waves pound hard against the rocks, like fresh inmates hit their fists against the walls of their cell. The thundering splashes of the sea sound like woebegone cries. The half concealed sea shells stand out like grey tombstones in an empty cemetery.

I get off my horse and face the sea, even though it is an effort to stand as my knees shake with weakness but I want to feel the cool wind on my face one last time. So I raise my face and close my eyes against the breeze. The roaring wind comes and knocks me down to my knees; another waft tosses my jeweled turban off my head (- what earlier would have been a crown). I lay on the warm shore like the other insignificant grains of sand. Tears stream down my inclined face; the brackish moisture of the air mingles with my salty tears. I taste them both.

The waves come and gnaw at my velvet cloak and with every receding wave I feel the ocean wants to pull me in.

The sunset before me is a reflection of my life: the dull sea is my kingdom – conquered and robbed of its aquamarine glamour. And the sun is a representation of me: betrayed.

The waves keep coming back to call me; they tug at my cloak and at my feet to persuade me to succumb to their welcoming ripples.

And like the drowning Sun, I give in as well. And the like the sea which lets the obsidian of the night eclipse it, I let the waves sway over me, wrap me like a blanket so I can become one with them.

The (happy) sunset

The cool wind caressed my face and played hide-and-seek with my dark curls. I could almost see the wind blowing: like men on horseback, travelling thousands of miles, it came bearing gifts of rusty, autumn leaves and brackish sand, only for its new king.

   The sea was sprayed with the golden dust and the ripples resembled glistening, turquoise jewels with tints of gold and silver. The translucent waves came forward and gently kissed my feet I could see my feet through the water as I t washed over them. Little elated crystals of sea water danced on my face as the waves crashed against the rocks. I smiled at the tainted white seashells which surfaced for a glimpse of their new king.

   The spirited waves encouraged me to revel in the warm water. My feet sank deeper into the velvet dirt with every step I took further into the inviting ripples. I paused and looked at the undulating sea of gold before me.

   The sky had streaks of honey, fiery orange and bright, pomegranate red with blots of crimson behind which the Sun blushed. The view was captivating: the colours did not blend into each other; rather they dwelled united on one canvas. Each colour was different and distinguished, stitched by subtle threads of golden light. A patchwork. A warm quilt for a cold evening.

   The gleaming waves swaying at my feet were soothing. The refreshing wind reached in and cleansed me so every fibre of my being vibrated with the rhythm of my blissful heart. A seagull, silhouetted against the maroon sky, soared high above the sea. I spread my wings and took in a deep breath of freedom, and of victory.

   Waves of exuberance and ripples of peace washed over me. I watched the Sun appear from behind its scarlet veil to welcome me. And in that moment I knew that I had reached my destiny: this land which I loved, and which loved me back so dearly, was indeed my home.

 Written by: Mahnoor Arif

The (sad) sunset

The wind waspishly whips my hair against my face while my shadow stretches long and lonely along the cemented rooftop of the twenty story building.

An angry red blush spreads across the sky while the sun mercilessly beats down on the maze of the concrete jungle.

Car exhaust fumes make their way in like an unwelcome guest as sweat trickles down my forehead and sticks strands of hair and grime along my face.

The tepid tea next to me shows the sun glowering angrily across its surface. The people beneath me resemble ants intent on rushing back to their colonies . Metal of parked cars glint underneath the sun as the blare of honks greets my ears.

The sky is now a putrid wound with the sun , festering as the puss , smack in the middle. The sky is maroon riddled with orange and carries welts of deep purple towards the ends.

Hot winds blow at my face , lethargically playing with the ends of my kurta.

Slowly the sun sinks into the mesh of gray worn out buildings, with the sky now a deep lavender with slight gashes of red on the horizon.

Buildings stand erect; wearing their shabby gray outfits and their gloomy dark shadows mixing in with the traffic.

Now in its final stages , the sun is like a bulb on low voltage , its rays across the sky getting lighter and lighter , drowning themselves behind the concrete jungles of Saddar.

A brilliant ink blue; the sky is in its full glory just like the traffic beneath it, stuck bumper to bumper, each car horn blaring a different tune.

Above, the sky is in a state of tranquility unlike the world below.

The (happy) sunset

The sun , like a firefly , illuminates the sky. Children loiter behind their parents – bare foot ; their footsteps imprinted on the chocolate covered beach. They squeal as they watch a horse sprint by in the distance , its white mane a stark contrast against the vivid saffron colored sky.

The traffic of SeaView  can be heard in the background , a distinct wail of a toddler and voices of vendors calling out to their customers , can all be heard.

The entire SeaView beach is enveloped in a warm glow , the remaining few rays of sunlight dance on the surface of rippling tides like dusted gold.

A sense of pleasantness is felt in this atmosphere as cool winds come rushing by , bringing with them a musty salt-encrusted smell associated with this beach for so long.

Crimson hued the sky is patterned with blotches of citrus orange , while the sun slowly but surely melts into the background  like an ice-cream on a hot sunny day.

Slivers of lemon streak across the sky , engulfing the entire beach in a dusky orange.

A wave laps away at my feet and brings with it an uprooted sea-weed. Goose bumps cover my entire body as I manically kick it off my feet.

From the pit of my stomach the squeamish feeling disappears as I look back up to the sky. Head-first the sun seems to dive into the waters with only lingering lights left behind.

Violets and mauve conquer the sky drenching the sea below in an inky blue.

I look around and see that the beach is now almost deserted , the golden glow which once covered the beach is now replaced by milky streams of moonlight.

Written by: Imbesat Z. Meer

The (sad) sunset

On my last day at our beach house, now soon to be only his, I stand at the brink of the porch and stare out at the vast horizon, that bleeds with colour just as my heart bleeds with sorrow.

The clouds of the oncoming storm are the same colour as the bruises he has littered across my ivory skin, a parting gift. Behind the aubergine clouds, I can see bloody streaks of crimson red, like the fiery flames of Hell. Merging with it is the pink and greys of withered dying blossoms, just like the ones in his garden, which like me, bared the wrath of the harsh winter and him.

The stormy clouds reflect in the inner turmoil of my heart, and hint at the angry storm about to break out. I can smell the slight moisture in the air that seems to press down on me, trying to suffocate me as he does.

The sun glares at me accusingly, painful to look at, but harder to ignore. A large fearsome carnivorous flower, it starts to sink into the raging sea, only to get devoured instead of devouring. It’s fading rays still so vibrant seem to melt into the water, mixing like dyes, adding tinges of yellow and the red of the pan he spits out, merging into the vast sea, that is the same colour as the mould gathering on the cheese in his fridge.

The sea shifts, rises, curls unceasingly. Its white waves whip the silent beige in frenzy, taking away parts of it, only to spit them back later.

With a deep breath, I turn away from it, away from the huge tangerine bleeding as it hangs in the bloodshot sky, away from the violet plum coloured sea, away from the angry clouds that frame it all, and away from all that brings me despair.

The (happy) sunset

Right before the guests were to arrive she went to her favorite part on the cliff that overlooked the beach. The scene was picturesque enough to belong on the back of a post card.

The sky, a whirlwind of colors, looked like a master piece spray painted by a graffiti artist. The streaks of color blazed such that the view reminded her of the marble cake her sister had baked just for her.

The brilliant shades that dappled the sky resembled the fruit salad she had helped make, the yellow of ripe papaya, the golden brown of mustard, the blood red of overripe tangerines, the flesh of strawberries, the skin of apples, plums and grapes that glittered like jewels and the dusky light indigo of blueberries.

The brilliant red streak that ripped through the violet sky reminded her of the ruby red pomegranates she had picked specially for the celebration.

The sun was like a burning phoenix, that reminded her of a line from her favorite poem Pied Beauty, “ Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings” sinking into the ashy sea only to rise again tomorrow.

Where the sun sank into the sea, the sky was magenta with flecks of fading light, the color of post-it notes.

The water moved gently in ripples that caressed each other lovingly in the halcyon sea. The water was the color of her over washed jeans that are desperately in need of replacement.

The summer sunset was different shades of love and smiles. It was the colour of blood pulsating through her infatuated heart.

With a thousand megawatt smile, she took in the giant tangerine hanging in the sky, the fluffy soft cotton candy clouds the colour of blooming blossoms, and the blueberry sea underneath. A gift from Mother Nature, just for her.