The Sight, I can't Describe

 
Have you ever taken the Belgharia Expressway? Before taking the road that leads to Dunlop More, there is a left turn. Before taking the turn, you will notice a water body (is it a pond?).
 
Have you ever noticed how the dark water bathes in the neon orange lights emanating from the streetlamp? 
 
Whether it is the glimmering effect on the water or the serenity of traveling alone, I do not know… I catch myself fascinated by the simplicity of the sight. No, it’s not simple, it's not something I can put in words even if I had unlimited access to time and vocabulary — there lies a hint of apprehension, mystery that nobody can ever unveil.
 
I think of taking pictures or videos every time I pass the very same place. Wouldn’t it be wrong? Some words should remain unspoken; some sights should not be imprisoned in digital formats, some things should be kept away from human intervention. Wouldn’t the digital memory degrade the mystifying aura that the place consistently, powerfully conjures?
 
There comes a foreboding note — someone whispers in my ears, I cannot take a picture, get down from the car, stand by the water and witness the glistening ripples. Like all the other beautiful fleeting moments, I shall let it pass. Let the smell of urban cacophony waft by. Perhaps, the air is the only physical memory about the entire sight you can touch, or let it touch you.
 
As if, you have to wait until the place comes to you (even though it does not necessarily hold any significance in the real world). Like a cat: you cannot just pick him up and leave him on your feet. He will come to you and curl up on your feet at his will.
 
I won’t lie; I did try to take a photo and video of the sight. Most of the time, I forget because the vegetative sight nuanced with the enigma of black water arrests my senses, leaving my hands fumble to unlock my phone and create a digital memory that will sync in the cloud and enter a whole different realm. 
 
For days, I thought my phone — a piece of plastic with no human elements even though it is the only thing humans can’t leave without — could replicate what I see before my eyes, in the phone memory. The attempt had gone in vain, not because of how blurry the photos turned out, but how flimsy it looked. The joke is on me!
 
*****
 
This evening, I passed by the pond (?) and caught myself surrendering to its arresting beauty. I thought of writing about procrastination but the sight arrested my initial thoughts and led me here — even if the sight makes no sense, it exists in my reality burning bright in the dark of the night.