And there passes by another day…

Time is a weird thing, at times, like in the lazy summer afternoons, it is in its slowest pace. And at frantic moments, each second feels like a year and yet when I look back today, all these years which have passed can be summed up together in a few mental images. I still remember my first day at school, eyes overwhelmingly teary, bag unbearably heavy, hands tightly clutched to my father’s. He left me at the entrance, I was scared and I know, he was too. The mental images are still clear. But when I think of scenes from say even the last year, my memory falters. Ah! The sweet torture of time, bearing the magic to take you places where memories thrive on its nimble toes.

And like that, another afternoon passes by, I stand on the balcony staring out on to the streets. Ma is still at office, she comes back in the evening, I worry about her health. My brother is at his study, I feel proud looking at him, how he is transforming into a hard-working young man. The streets look lethargic, I guess it’s their lazy nap time. The trees on the sidewalk stand indolently. I stand there looking at the people passing by, imagining the lives that they might have. I see a boy a cycling, he is in his school uniform, he is sweaty, his hair is messy, his shoes are dusty and he looks exhausted. May be he had a rough day at school today. An old lady walks on the sidewalk, she is sluggish, her cotton saree drapes her loosely, she bears the expression of a mother, tired, ever tolerating yet calm and exuding exuberance. She looks a bit sad. May be she is going back to a home, where she is not cared for, may be..

As I get drifted into my own world, where I picturize characters and scenarios and stories, the thought of all the pending work I have brings me back to this mundane world. I let out a deep sigh and come back to my room and sit to resume my work.