An old soul once asked me “How do you understand time?” and before I could possibly answer him more maturely; he is now alive only in the past…What makes a demise history when we still live by the spoken words? What makes a harbinger foretell when future is so unwritten? Is there a definition of present when every coming glimpse fades to past every second?
Human life is so insignificant before the unfathomable eternity that answers to these perhaps need a lifetime to understand or maybe even that’s not sufficient enough to contemplate…
Yet sometimes, we find the waves of time being still as if they themselves are making us understand the mysteries in bits or perhaps it’s us who make the bits mysteriously beautiful. Moments sometimes have definitions that languages fail to convey; they’re felt…
An infant crying is a song a mother remembers forever. A soothing tune heals inflicting wounds of souls. The radiance of blurred sunsets, hands held together for years, losing self in doing something we love to do, achievements of a lifetime or living wishful dreams; these are some of those special moments which seem so eternal to the slowly fainting lives…
Sometimes I wish to go back and tell him what I now understand. But waves that once drench you cannot touch you with the same wetness. They ought to be different. I cannot go back in time; neither can I hope to meet him in a distant hour. But I still live those moments. Past is the unwrapped present bequeathed to future…
Human has the supremacy on everything. He has named HIM, if HE ever existed. He has reached places beyond imagination, dug out secrets underneath myths and challenged facts. But yet there’s something that runs beyond his control and understanding. Eternity is not timeless but how we spend this mortal life with infinite pleasant memories that count…
Time never dies. It has been in existence before life, before creation and remained concealed till the dawn of human wit. Uncover the shroud from its face and it unravels the mystery and knowledge of civilisations born, flourished and ultimately perished. It has no history, no future but its present encloses a moment of both…
A moment awaited is a moment passed and if you had it noticed it’s a memory. And somewhere among such memories lays the eternal evanescence of human life.
Originally posted on Blogger on Nov 08, 2011