The Sunset Paradox: 

             A Story of Vijay’s Realization

Writer: Vijay Madan

Photo: Vijay Madan

Vijay, a man in his seventies with the soul of an artist and the mind of a scientist, often found himself lost in contemplation, camera in hand, waiting for the perfect moment to freeze time in a photograph. His heart was especially drawn to sunsets, the vibrant hues splashing across the sky like nature’s farewell to the day.

One evening, sitting on Radha Nagar beach, Vijay set up his Nikon camera, positioning it carefully to capture the sun’s descent into the horizon. The Andaman Islands had always been his refuge, where the endless sea and the fading sun seemed to whisper truths about the nature of life and time. But tonight, something was different. A group of tourists nearby, with their phones and excited chatter, made him wonder: Why did most people prefer sunsets over sunrises?

The question lingered in his mind as the orange glow deepened, painting the clouds in soft streaks of gold and crimson. Vijay thought back to the countless times he had witnessed both—early morning sunrises when the world was still quiet, and the hustle of sunsets, when the day was winding down. Sunrises were equally, if not more, beautiful, he mused. Yet it was sunsets that seemed to draw people in, like moths to a flame.

As the last sliver of the sun disappeared beneath the waves, leaving the sky in a wash of deep purple, Vijay closed his camera lens and let the thought settle. He walked along the beach, barefoot, feeling the coolness of the wet sand, and reflected on the paradox.

Maybe it wasn’t just about beauty, he thought. People aren’t drawn to sunsets merely because they’re visually stunning. It’s because sunsets signify closure. Sunsets are a promise that the struggles, the triumphs, the mundane moments of the day have come to an end. Watching the sun set is like exhaling after holding in a deep breath—it’s the relief of knowing that tomorrow is another chance.

In contrast, sunrises are different. Sunrises are full of potential, yes, but with that potential comes the burden of expectations. A new day means new responsibilities, new challenges, new uncertainties. While the sunrise holds the hope of a fresh beginning, it also comes with the anxiety of the unknown. 

Vijay realized that most people, in their quiet moments of reflection, preferred to witness the end of something rather than the beginning. There’s comfort in knowing that the day is behind you, that you’ve survived another cycle. Sunsets allow people to look back on their day with a sense of completion, while sunrises remind them of the work that still needs to be done.

The thought made him smile. His life, like the setting sun, had passed through many cycles of beginnings and endings. He had seen the rise of his academic career, the chaotic bloom of his passions, the joys and sorrows of love, and the inevitable entropy that had come with time. But now, as he stood on the edge of the ocean, with the day ending behind him, he felt a serene sense of peace. The sunset was not an end—it was simply a pause before the new dawn.

In that moment, Vijay understood why he, too, preferred sunsets. They weren’t just the ending of a day—they were a moment of rest, of reflection, a chance to appreciate the beauty of what had been before moving forward into what would be.

As the twilight deepened, Vijay took one last picture of the dusky sky. The camera clicked, capturing the moment perfectly, and in that frame, Vijay found a metaphor for life itself. Every sunset,