I look back and I cannot see beyond a couple of days of the time that has passed by. A good memory here, a bad one there. A moment of shame, some moments of sorrow and many moments of love. If I were to count all the moments that I remember, It will still not fill the 48 years I have lived. Where did all that time go? Is it hiding in secret places in me. Are there memories in me that have stolen time from me and are now themselves lost to me?
Time, so much time, and I cannot figure out where it all went!
I now think I know more closely what Einstein meant when he said that time is a human experience. It is an illusion of our befuddled minds to make sense of the chaos of everyday life. When I stare at the crumpled paper on which the innings of my life is written, I see how the dots on the last line converge with the white spaces on the first line. All that is past and all that is yet to come is all enmeshed into one tapestry of intricate stories, mostly out of sequence, but possibly mine. I can never really be sure.
I look at my hands. These are the ones that dug pits and ploughed the fields for my grandma only yesterday… but I lost her in the haze of time a long time ago. My hands are not how I remember them. They look scorched in time. What all that ploughing and pitting could not do, time did. My body tells me that I have lived in time. It tells me that time has passed through it. Just like the rings on an eternally standing tree my bald head and my body with its scars and lumps and aches and pains tells me a story that is not mine. I do not remember living all these years. I have lived only a few moments in time.
I now must find the impostor, the impostor who stole my time.
समय की धारा में, उम्र बह जानी है, दो घड़ी जी लेंगे वही रह जानी है!(Our lives will drift away in the flow of time, let us live for a couple of moments, for it is only those moments that we would remember)