21st July 2009 – The longest Total Solar Eclipse for the next hundred years — Sheila Chhabra
A short video with some images is here on this link – https://youtu.be/iWAqxQP4TuQ

It is billed as the greatest spectacle on Earth. It shows live on the same day half way round the globe. Dates, timings and venues for the performance are given out well in advance. It is not easy to set up, it requires the alignment of heavenly bodies, the positions of the main players and their order has to be just so. It needs perfect synchronisation, one step out of line and it will not happen. Best of all, it’s for free, no tickets needed and free seating, all guaranteeing a ringside view. And this particular show was slated, with complete confidence, as the best of the century. So lured by the promise of a once in lifetime, out of this world experience, we hotfooted it to Varanasi to see the most magnificent and longest Total Solar Eclipse for the next hundred years.

22nd July, 2009, that date has been imprinted on my mind since the last eclipse that took place in India in November 1995. I had promised myself this gift years ago, keeping fingers crossed that it would work out. As the year dawned friends were enticed and the planning began. We got in touch with all the authorities, the scientists, the amateur astronomers, to zone in on the perfect spot and with the path of totality cutting across central India, the choices were countless. The only spoilsport in the party was the season – monsoons threatened and though rains were elusive, cloud cover could overshadow the shadow of the moon drawing a curtain over the entire show. So where to go? Take the flight? Would cut a deep hole in the pocket. Go to China? Same problem and more time required. Bhopal seemed logistically easy from Delhi, but the eclipse would be low on the horizon, the time for totality a little less and the chances of low clouds high, so this option was scratched. Sasaram in Bihar? Beautiful historic place, tomb of Sher Shah Sur. Patna? Longer duration and so far, less chance of rain. Gaya? To see God’s creation in the place where the most godlike of men walked. Varanasi? One of the oldest cities in India, on every foreign tourist’s itinerary and a centre for the eclipse with thousands of people using the occasion to take a holy dip. It was like playing a game of tic-tac-toe. Closer to the date cloud activity increased, rains poured and humidity levels skyrocketed. It looked like a washout and I almost dropped the idea, afraid of disappointing all friends who had sportingly agreed to come along. Finally Varanasi appealed to the camera persons amongst us with its colour and flavour and fervour, things to see and do even if the eclipse was a no show, and so the destination was decided. Flights were booked, accommodation reserved and leave taken from workplaces.

Who would guide and mentor us in Varanasi? Vishnu of AAA came to the rescue. He and his team of enthusiastic star-gazers had also chosen this city and generously welcomed anyone who wanted to accompany them. A group had left earlier to recce possible sites (perhaps we would drive to Sarnath), and we would only know our exact location the day before the event. We arrived in Varanasi on the 21st and the first question to the driver was how has the weather been? Oh, it rained this morning he announced nonchalantly (apparently started at 5:30 am and ended at 7:30 am – precise timings for the eclipse!) not realising the impact of his news on us. Perhaps if it has rained today we can hope for clear skies tomorrow, we tried to convince ourselves optimistically. We attended the hour long  beautifully performed aarti at the ghats in the evening, attempting to propitiate Ganga ji and the Gods.

Waking to the ringing of alarms, we quickly got ready and set off to our lookout point – the roof top of a guest house on Assi ghat.  Once up there we looked towards the east and oh man! Clouds! Dark low clouds on the horizon and more dark clouds scudding across the skies. One felt tempted to try and huff and puff and blow them away. The countdown had begun – 23 minutes to first contact, when the moon would first begin to cover our view of the sun. But where was the sun? hidden behind thick clouds, we could see the skies getting lighter  but no sign of the solar disc. Laptops had been switched on, programs for taking perfect pictures with perfect exposures had been fed, tripods and cameras had been positioned, a simulation of the eclipse was on show, seconds ticked by and everyone’s eyes were fixed on the one spot. The ghats below us were filling with people, men, women, children, octogenarians and babes in arms all carrying bags with a change of clothes and the deep faith that had brought them to this spot. A stiff breeze blew across our roof moving with it some of the higher clouds and brightening our prospects. First contact came the announcement but the curtain of our show had still not risen. We waited for the sun to move higher and free itself from purdah and there it was, peeping over the line of clouds we could just make out a bright object with a neat bite taken out of it at the top. With the clouds acting as natural filters, we could safely look at the sun with our naked eyes and slowly it rose higher till we could make out the entire disc more and more of it vanishing as if truly being devoured by an invisible dragon. The sight of the sun, closely resembling the crescent moon, its soft light peering through dark clouds was truly breathtaking. Finally it rose above the clouds and warning shouts of filters on, goggles on rang out. Quickly we donned our solar view glasses and through it a completely different picture could be seen. The filter cuts out 98% of the sun’s light and all you see is a sliver of an orange sun, the rest is all black. Now the countdown for second contact, the moment of truth for which we had all gathered, began. Anxious eyes swept the skies, any chance of a spoilsport cloud obscuring the view in these precious few minutes? Luckily it looked clear with only a few wisps floating across. Cameras were readjusted, spent batteries were cussed at, tripods were commandeered, hearts thudding and eyes hardly daring to blink we counted the final few seconds. The sky darkened and then it was gone. The sun had disappeared. Thin beads of light could be seen, the diamond ring flashed, a collective gasp of a hundred thousand people could be heard and there  it was, silvery light that surrounded the black disc and grew like a halo in front of us. The sun’s beautiful corona only visible at totality. Har har Gange resounded from the ghats, screams of disbelief awe and wonder could be heard on our roof and all the other rooftops which similarly sported hundreds of people, all gathered for the greatest show on earth. No tv, no photograph can possibly do it justice. You have to be there, you have to experience the twilight, the appearance of stars, the eerie glow of the corona, light around a black disc. Nothing can replicate it nor the feeling that you are seeing the hand of the Creator making an achingly beautiful masterpiece, a wonder that you are truly blessed to have witnessed. Three minutes with divinity and then here comes the diamond ring, flashing brilliantly, worth more than all the money in the world, and its time for the goggles and for you to start breathing again and look at all the awestruck eyes and smiling faces around you. Everyone is talking at once, backs are being thumped, high fives given, phones are ringing from different parts of the world – did you see it? OH YES WE DID!  The excitement is palpable as everyone relives those precious minutes and tries to describe what they saw, heard and felt, and between all this we try to remember to look at the sun reemerging from the shadow of the moon. 7:30 am and the show is finally over. We linger a little while longer, not wanting to break the magic spell which has been cast, but then its time to pack the gear and head for the cars, where we wait for another hour for the sea of humanity walking to and back from the ghats.

So did it live up to its billing? Is it worth every effort and every hole in the pocket? Yes, yes and yes. If you missed it this time, don’t despair. The same cast gets together every year or two and puts up a repeat performance in different parts of the world. Choose your spot and your date and remember to be there at your free ringside seat for the greatest spectacle on Earth.