Timeless times

“Be back by 6”, my mum would say as I would run out of the back door after having completed my homework, (to think of it now) bizarre self invented games and evening snacks. “Okay”, I would mutter and run to call my friends out of their houses.Did I even know what 6 o clock meant, though? Another phenomenon that would always amuse me was that of alarms. They were to be set and they would go off accordingly. Oh the mysteries of childhood! Digital watches were a major savior in the first few years of relatively sane childhood. And then I learnt the ways of the clock! “60 seconds in a minutes, 60 minutes in an house. Hour hand on 1 and minute hand on 12; 1 o clock!”, I had mastered the art of reading time. Or had I? Have any of us ever?

The concept of time confuses me. We own it and yet we don’t. Some of us have plenty of it and some of us have none of it. And that again, is just a matter of time. The things that we most want to do seem to be very conveniently feasible when we’re caught with other tasks and they’re simply impossible to accomplish when we have all the time in the world.We’re told to optimize our utilization of time and told that it is all a matter of our priorities. Well, it is, isn’t it? Or is it?

Time has a beautiful way of showing us what really matters to us and what doesn’t. Time changes people and people change with time. Theory of relativity can indeed be best defined with time; Time runs when you’re doing what you love and time simply doesn’t move when you need to get out of an undesirable situation.

We’re all supposed to be engineers, artists and architects of our own destiny and we most definitely are. And yet, time has its own slimy ways to creep in and tell us stories that can be read only when they arrive at our footstep. You make time and time makes you, its not an or. Times guides us to write our own stories and then narrates it back to us. That’s the beauty of it.

Time

Till next time,

Make time 🙂

The sick leave

You know, times when you’re not terminally ill, but you’re unwell enough to be a snob, spread germs and be absolutely unproductive at work? Well, its a talent to even identify ourselves in that state most of the time. This morning was one of those times for me and so I decided to call in sick. Calling in sick is one of my least favourite things to do. You’re health goes tumbling down the drain if you decide to go ahead to office and the illness mysteriously disappears by mid-day if you stay back at home. Its a tricky gamble which has to certain formulae to determine the probabilities.

I have always hated missing school/college/work on the basis of poor health. It simply doesn’t feel right. I would love to have more authority on when I want to go work and when I don’t. My parents would always have to plead me to take a day off and most of the times I would just go to school(or wherever) with a paracetamol tablet in my bag. “Take it after food, if you’re still feeling feverish and drink lots of hot water.”, mum would say.

I have whole hearted admiration for people who know how to enquire about another’s health without annoying them. I certainly do not have that talent and end up advising them on taking medicines or visiting the doctor, which many others would have already done, and as a result, add up to their irritation. Also, I strongly believe that ‘How are you?’ Is the most overused, yet underrated question of all times. Not many would be asking that question to you with genuine concern. If you do know people who do, feel blessed and answer them politely.

So yes, so far, today has been about sleeping, more sleeping, medicine-after-food, hot water, pretence sleeping, excessive use of the nose blowing & puking face (or jealous face? I don’t know) emoticons on WhatsApp, observing the sneezes faintly vanish and watching a couple of Kenny Sebastian videos, because obviously, laughter is the best medicine.

Have a lovely evening 🙂