As was expected, I have not been doing anything even remotely constructive for quite a while now. So, I convinced myself that going out of the house and observing the You-won't-ever-see-anything-as-spectacular-as-this phenomenon was the path to my salvation.
Turns out, it wasn't.
Anyway, here is the account.
Now, I'm one of those 'pictures say a thousand words' people and so, I dutifully took my camera along for the happy journey. Considering this was my first pre-dawn drive through the city, I got a little excited and started taking pictures of the horrendously dirty windshield, with the flash on. And then, for some reason, switched off the headlights while wantonly clicking pictures with mad abandon.
By now, the intelligent reader should have guessed what happened next.
The batteries ran out of juice, the lens snuck(sneaked?) back into hiding and the camera displayed a bleak "change batteries" text. I smiled wryly, noticed that I was alone in the car, sighed and flicked the headlights back on.
Voila, here it is. And with this picture, we now enter the elite category of randomly updating blogs who also upload pictures. And no, I'm not sure what I was trying to prove there.
Moving along (both in the narrative and in the er, narration) , I reached Nehru Planetarium without getting lost even once! Thanks, googlemaps.
Lots of people had turned up, and it was kinda funny to look at all the cars and the news-vans parked all around the round-about.
I ran inside, followed the human trail to the local shop selling the solar view goggles, bought myself a pair, lied to a guy about my age (for no particular reason) and then followed the news-van cable trail to the viewing arena.
On the way, a news-van, evidently impressed and awed by me, backed into a lamp post and knocked the lampshade down.
The guys at the planetarium had set up a couple of pinhole projectors and what I think were large sheets of some harmful-solar-rays-blocking material. People were already lining up behind these devices to view the eclipse. Of course, I crept up to a guy monitoring the pinhole cam and began interviewing him. Turned out, the eclipse might not be visible because of the clouds. Boo!
Getting bored, I looked at the various faces around me, went for a little walk, over-heard some conversations and finally remembered the goggles I'd bought for my viewing pleasure.
Now unlike you hoopy froods, I had never encountered one of these goggles before, and when I saw all of nothing on putting them on, I panicked. And cursed the shopkeeper-guy. Gathering some courage, I approached a friendly looking woman who had a similar pair of goggles in her hands and asked her if this is how they are supposed to work. She suppressed a giggle, and assured me that I hadn't been taken for a ride while her husband tried to turn a smirky snort into a cough and their daughter laughed at me.
I walked away with my dignity intact and waited some more.
After more of the same, suddenly the crowd started getting excited.
I put on my goggles and observed the colour black.
I then overheard some people talking about how the sun was too weak to be seen through one of these goggles.
Apparently, people came prepared for this happening and swiftly whipped out X ray images. I moseyed up to a guy who had brought an X ray of his pelvis and finally got a look at IT. Hurray!
It was beautiful. It was like looking at an orange coloured quarter moon, in the morning, through a stranger's pelvic bone. Soon, the sun pulled itself together and shook off some clouds. Yes, my goggles were put to good use. It was quite fun, bumbling around, gazing up at the huge orange ball in the darkness, bumping into people and tripping over stuff. The people lined up near the museum erections singing the Gayatri Mantra at the newspeople's insistence.
I tried to get this rather good looking reporter to interview me by putting on my goggles and staring at the sun thoughtfully, scratching my chin every now and then. But when I took 'em off, I saw her interviewing a little girl. Quite a safe distance away from me. So I played a bit with my goggles, humming the pink panther theme. When I was done, I was startled by this cameraman who might have clicked a picture thinking I was a Rajnikant protegee.
Anyway, I spent the next few minutes looking at the sun, feeling happy, lending my goggles to others and feeling superior. Oh and for the imagination challenged, here's a hint:
Of course it was slow, but watching the moon creep across the sun was fun. But then, an absolutely wonderful thing happened. The clouds came back, but just enough to blur out the sun's bright rays and give an exhilarating view of the eclipse. Watchable with the naked eye.I was scared of burning my retinas out so I only took short glances at it, but wow.
wow.
I can't put it in any better way.
hm, that's pretty much it. I noticed that people had already started pissing against the trees, a sign that the best was over. I too made my way home. Pausing at every red light to put on my glasses and look at the sun. And providing an excuse to the guy behind me to honk his horn loudly. I made a lot of people happy that day.
And to end this post, I'll post a picture I took a couple of days back while getting back home from Gurgaon. The sky looked particularly angry. And I happened to have my camera with me.
