A sea of humanity descended on Taregana to catch a glimpse of the eclipse. Credit: D. Duari

Months of preparation and anticipation ended in a lifetime opportunity for some and quite a disappointment for others. The total solar eclipse of July 22, 2009 which was seen within a patch of 258.4 kilometres along the width of India — starting from Gujrat, passing through parts of Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, northern West Bengal, Assam and Arunachal Pradesh — created tremendous interest among general people, students, amateur astronomers and scientists. Given the timing — mid-monsoon in most of northern, eastern and north-western India — many were sceptical about the chance of viewing the total eclipse. Predictions, some based on statistics, some on beliefs, were made on the best locations to see the eclipse unhindered by the clouds.

According to NASA, one of the places with least probability of a cloud cover was around Patna, the capital of Bihar. Patna was also touted as the place to be for the eclipse, as some believe that only 35 kilometres south of Patna is Taregana, where the 5th Century mathematician and astronomer Aryabhatta made his observatory and looked at the heavens, and later realised the heliocentric nature of our solar systems. In addition to being the inventor of zero he is believed to be the first person who gave us quite some information on celestial bodies and events. The Bihar administration also wanted to showcase the state by publicising the relevance of Taregana since it was extremely close to the central line of totality of the eclipse.

I, along with some of my students decided to go to Taregana, to witness the celestial spectacle. We reached our Patna hotel a day earlier to find all hotels booked to capacity, street corners abuzz with eclipse talk and an abundance of solar goggles everywhere. Though some amateur science organisations and scientists were setting up camps on a big field and rooftops, it seemed that all and sundry were making a beeline for Taregana.

We decided to start early on the morning of July 22 so as to reach Taregana much ahead of the eclipse scheduled around 5:29 a.m., with totality happening between 6:24:40 and 6:28:23 a.m. The 35-kilometer trip was a revelation in itself. As we neared the small locality of Taregana, we could see a steady stream of people walking towards it. Closer still, the stream became a sea of humanity, even as early as 4:00 a.m. With difficulty, we reached the spot and took positions on the rooftop of the four storey house of a local rice mill owner that the students had earlier arranged. Among our group were some scientists from the Zoological Survey of India, one of whom was studying the behavioural changes of 20-odd specimens of spiders kept in glass vials. The arachnologist was studying the spiders for a week prior to the eclipse and was keen to observe any difference in their behaviour during the eclipse events.

Soon, we positioned our photographic equipment and small telescopes to catch the sunrise. Spirits were high since we had seen a clear sky on our journey from Patna and could identify quite a number of stars. But soon our joy turned into apprehension as the eastern horizon got progressively cloudy. We missed the sunrise, which was around 5:11 a.m. but were hoping that the cloud cover would be temporary.

Meanwhile, the sight on the ground was more enthralling than that in the skies. Tens of thousands of people were converging on a ground in front of a newly built hospital occupied by other scientists, media personnel and the chief minister of Bihar. The train track passing beside the ground was packed with people. I was feeling overawed, given my experience of the solar eclipse of 1980, when there was hardly a soul in the open due to superstitious fears of bad omen associated with an eclipse. This time around, tea stalls and fast food centres, which had sprung up overnight, were doing brisk business, beating hollow the superstition that no food should be taken during an eclipse event. Unfolding before our eyes was a live example of the success of this country's science popularisation programmes.

The watch said that the eclipse had started but we couldn't see the sun at all as the cloud cover became denser. People were staring at the sky with disbelief, slowly realising that they might miss the total eclipse in Taregana, touted as one of the best locations in India to observe the eclipse unhindered by clouds. The tide of people was swelling and from our vantage point all we could see was people and more people of all ages.

To our consternation and disappointment, the time of the total eclipse approached without the sight of the sun. Soon it was dark, and at the exact time of totality, it suddenly became darker. We could see flocks of birds returning to their nests. The temperature dropped. And at the moment of totality, engulfed in darkness, a collective roar of amazement went up making it a memorable moment of our lives. We could see some stars in a dark patch of sky not marred by clouds. What struck me most was, among the thousands of onlookers there was no fear but an overwhelming awe for the celestial phenomenon, a realization of the cosmic nature of our existence and a feeling beyond the ordinary.

Soon the darkness lifted and we knew the sun was coming out of its eclipse, though we couldn't see it at all. The collective spirit on the rooftop plunged further when mobile phones brought us reports of excellent viewings in places predicted to be cloudy. A group of students started planning for the next total eclipse event in 2017 over mainland USA.

It was only during the end of the eclipse around 7:05 a.m. that the clouds moved a little, and we could see the partially eclipsed sun. People had started dispersing by then and within an hour Taregana went back to its quiet, sleepy disposition, having basked in the short-lived glory. Back at the hotel, we could only marvel at the beautiful pictures of the total eclipse on television from other parts of the country. That strengthened our resolution to try again next time from somewhere else on the globe.

The author is the research and academic Director of M. P. Birla Planetarium in Kolkata, India.