The clock doesn’t stop ticking. Its merciless hands march
forward to the frequencies they are tuned to. Irrespective of what is going on
with you, what emotions you are in. It ticks, as ever, slowly but surely. Some
ticks are tedious, when you sit in that awkward silence with people who have
known you forever but suddenly have become distant. When all you hear is
nervous glasses rattling and cautious glances. You wish for the second to be
shorter. Some ticks are amazingly slow. When the page loads to reveal your
marks. Those ticks outside the Operation theatre. That clock is permanently
slow. No moment seems fast enough, dull enough to forget.
On the other hand there are those superfast minutes. Where
in an instant the world becomes harsh and too fast to keep up. Where it is
ruthlessly competitive and fierce and demanding. Those ticks wait for no one.
Some minutes are chased more than hours. Those irritatingly consistent clocks
don’t care for your mental breakdown, for your misery, for your tears, grief,
apprehension. They don’t care that you are worried, sad, need a vent. They are
the least bothered to know the crap your life is becoming lately. They don’t
look back for the fallen stars, for the broken hearts, for the shattered souls,
all of whom ask desperately for some time to heal. All of whom require just
time to forget and become perfect enough to run in sync with those merciless
clock hands. No, those consistent clocks just run. Shamelessly, fearlessly,
sincerely, professionally, not caring to look back, not caring at all. The
shattered hearts and broken souls and episodes of grief and tears can wait for
days when there’s ample time. For those days when it is okay to reflect, think,
vent out emotions. For those days when time is the last factor to consider. When
living in the moment and embracing what you feel is perfectly fine. Maybe they
might be broken beyond repair by the time those days come. Scarred beyond
imagination, or hurt beyond comprehension. But time will not wait. It will
trample on you further and break you more if you wait to feel. For it is time, ruthless
in its rules.
No, I don’t hold anything against it, although it acts like
a rotten child. For it’s the most natural of things there is. Holds the world
together with its singular power. Those clocks that run with ruthless precision
no matter what the moment, what the emotion, what the situation you are in, inspire.
For it’s a hope for mankind, when it recognizes, holds in reverence something
which signifies such precision. It shows that no matter what you are in, your
hearts will beat just as much. The world will change just the way it used to,
the earth will rotate its usual turns. The universe will go on. And somehow so
will you. If it’s going bad, it too shall pass, don’t overthink, feel for a bit
and move on. If it is fantastic, you will not even notice the small portion of
your life for which it lasts. Revel in it, and move on. The wheels of the world
won’t stop for your emotions. For your specific life situations. They will not
slow down, they will not be hasty. Which is why they are trustworthy. Reliable,
secure. Try to cope up or give up, but be with it. Keep on going. And one day
the world will refer to you as you learn to match up with time. Consistency
matters.
So thank you time. For no matter how maddening, you are
persistent.
