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Writer's pictureNeelakshi Yadav

Soliloquy on Time

Time is like sand.

The harder you try to hold onto it, the more it slips away.

Maybe that’s why they use sand to measure time.

The sands of time.


I want to be like the clouds.

Drifting away effortlessly, without a birthplace or a destination.

They dissolve into one another and have no fixed form - no form that lasts forever.

Without a start or an end.

Clouds are ever-changing. Yet, clouds are ever lasting.

They were before me.

They shall continue to remain after me.

Just float.

Just be.

Be.

Good Morning.

How many times have I wished the morning good?

How many times have I wished the day would end?

How many times have I wished for the moment to last forever?

How many times have I wished for the memory to disappear?

How many times?

How many times?

How many

TIMES?

time.


It’s there again.

Ever fleeting and agonising.

Some other time. Next time.

This time. I’ll see you next time.

Every time.

Everywhere.


That’s how every it gets.

My mother tells me to take one day at a time.

Just one day at a time.

Live in the present.

But there is no present, is there?

By the time you finish reading this sentence, it is already in the past.

By the time I put a fullstop to this one, it has ceased to be in the present.

By the time you become aware of your present, its awareness is already a memory held captive in the past.

That’s how fleeting it is.

Every moment that I’ve lived,

every emotion that I’ve tasted, every taste that I’ve felt

every face that I’ve seen, every sound that I’ve heard,

exists only in memory.

For it all belongs to the past.

We are all but prisoners, of time, of attachment. We are all but victims.

I want to be like the clouds.

Free, liberated.

Am I free?

Am I liberated?

The Sun holds the Earth.

The Earth holds the Moon.

Here we are, all held captive.

I don’t hate time.

I just wish that I could hold it.


Silence is what I run away from,

for silence is deafening.

When the world around is silent, the brain is on a rampage.

Thinking about all the things, thinking all the time.

Yet, in moments of silence, I am found again.

And I tell myself,

“Just give time some time.”

Give time,

some time.



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