India, Oct. 20 -- The most precious light must be the light that comes just before darkness. Every evening, the dusty Laxmi Narain street in central Delhi's Paharganj gets haloed in shades of gold, as the sun sets towards the west-facing end of the street. But this golden light dissolves. The action then shifts to the sky above the street, where this part of the big wide sky starts to show thick strands of pink light. This particular pink is different from the pink concrete of the long-shut Imperial Cinema, which stands facing the same street. Soon enough, the pink of the sky too dissolves. The blue had already vanished. But worry not, there is still the imaginary blue of the Blue Line of the Delhi Metro that passes through Paharganj. The overland tracks of the Blue Line link the locality to distant Vaishali, towards the east of the megapolis. Over to Vaishali. During the brief time when the sun has gone but the light has not, the platform at Vaishali metro station shows a sky smeared in shades of blue, pink, and red. At times, depending on the climate and pollution, the twilight sky resembles a painting. One evening, some years ago, this same slice of the sky resembled a variation of British artist J. M. W. Turner's painting "Snow Storm: Steam-Boat off a Harbour's Mouth." That 1852 work comprises of grey, green, and brown; the Vaishali canvas of the 2018 sky had the same composition-but with purple, orange, and indigo instead. The other noteworthy miracle of the evening light unfolds about the Charles Correa edifice of Jeevan Bharti in Connaught Place. The light of the setting sun almost hijacks the massive building. The asli show though begins only later. Around 6.15pm, after the sun has long dipped behind the Correa creation, the tall and bulky signature column of the building transforms into a colourless stalagmite rising up from the earth. Meanwhile, the sky around the column transforms into a colourful sea of pink and purple light. Simultaneously, the radial road in front of the building glows a bit too brightly with the headlights of the rush-hour cars. And now, on this October evening in 2025, here in Old Delhi's Chatta Sheikh Mangloo, the sun is starting to set over the Walled City's congested rooftops. From the spectator's high-altitude vantage point, the neighbourhood's sky bears the scope of a gigantic picture frame, showing stripes of greyish-blue along the top and bottom. The rest is glowing in orange light. In contrast, most houses underneath are in a darkened state. With the sky moments away from completely losing all its light, a nearby house suddenly lights up (see photo). Somebody in there must have switched on their fluorescent tube. Soon, other houses follow suit, turning on their lamps. Happy Diwali....