In conversation with- Time.


Some say that time flies. Some have no time at all. And there’s this other lot of people who like to while their time away. I interestingly, was in conversation with time yesterday.

I had this peculiar dream last night, where as unrealistic and funny it may seem, I was in conversation with ‘time’! Nothing fancy, we talked about this and that, and then it suddenly decided to, like in most other cases, run away! Now while we were at it, Mr. Time, narrated how it experienced so many different characters in it’s course everyday, and that tonight it intended to interview me to no end, with only one question and wanted me to answer it in full detail, not leaving until it was satisfied with the explanation. The question was a pretty simple one, with no frills, and open ends for an elaborate answer- ‘Tell me dear, what does the concept of ‘time’ mean to you?’

Now to be very frank, this question left me baffled! For, in this world of twisted conversations, nobody had asked me such a simple and straight question in the longest time 😉 So after thinking about this for a few minutes, I put my answer on the table with decent ease. Rather calmly, and with a confident smile, I said, ‘Time is magic, and that will explain it all!’. Satisfied, Mr. Time left with no further questions.

Interestingly, this conversation was not as simple as it seems here. It left me overjoyed with the realisation that magic is everywhere and that time truly is magical! I wouldn’t say that time is a commodity. Neither is it a virtue or a quality. Rather, it is an elastic concept which accommodates all- the past, the present, and the future too. When in love, and in company of loved ones, time would fly. When in pain, time would pause, and when in a rush, time would hurry too. Adaptive as it is, time wonderfully aligns all to a schedule like no other. All in all, time is a beautifully crafted, personalised, yet the most practical gift of magic to mankind.

The conversation last night left me happy as I thanked my stars for the gift of time, and the choice of being blessed by magic too. It is ‘time’ that bonds one to others, and it is ‘time’ that detaches some due to space.

The tick-tocks I thank,
For they chose me to make me smile.
The hands of time as if chosen to play from me-
A rhythm of life, a lifetime of tunes, some magic, some trysts, SOME TRIALS!

– Stuti

P.s. Time stops for none, and still patiently waits for you to find that special one 😉

 

A day in history.


That day in history,
When all that was around was shaken,
And all that was not around, seemed shook up too.

That day in history,
When she was a part of the day,
But she herself knew that she wasn’t there and then.

That day in history,
When the clock didn’t show any time,
Because, someone had reported the hands of time stolen!

That day in history,
When somehow it became clear that,
Only the present will be the future now, and that is pretty too.

That blessed day in history, when love lost a battle fighting love, but it was love that won too,
Where someplace else, love found true love and never called it a war,
Re-affirming the triumph of unwritten yet pre- decided,
Whims of destiny, which KNOWS IT ALL!

– Stuti

 

Sands of time..


She could feel the sand slipping from her hands,
The feeling she knew was sinking.
She sunk deep and deeper in the sands of time,
Some memories refused to be fading.

Her eyes were filled with tears slish slosh,
Yet she could not let them fall.
Her hands trembled at every little thought,
Yet she could not let this affect her at all.

Overwhelmed, and terrible,
She cursed her sads in life.
Sad and shaken,
She mused at the difficults in life.

Her pain was like some writings on a wall,
Etched there for forever,
But making little sense,
Answers low key, promises tall.

So with a heavy heart and cloud black,
She weighed her options as of now.
Possibilities galore, yet finality in none,
She swallowed the pain with a FROWN.

-Stuti

Answers..


She couldn’t remember which day of the week it was,
But she remembered the month.
She couldn’t remember what time it was,
But she remembered how much had passed.
Her heart parched, she thought of her days bygone,
Her soul scratched, she thought of the time that was once her own.
With open eyes she saw the reel of her past,
When she closed her eyes all she saw was pitch dark.
My girl today was very very confused,
She wanted the clarity of a crystal.
She felt like a mouse trapped in a maze,
Running from one end to another but still life remained dismal.
She wanted answers from her life today,
For only answers could now provide her peace.
And answers were what could make her see a light,
Which alone could put her at EASE.

-Stuti