“How did it get so late so soon?
Its night before its afternoon.
December is here before its June.
My goodness how the time has flown.
How did it get so late so soon?” — said my all-time favourite Dr. Seuss a long time ago and it took owning a phone that claims to be smarter than me and social media applications to relate to his words.
The passage of time is indeed puzzling.
There was once a timepiece that clocked my childhood days. It had been a gift, one that was well received and found its pride of place in our living room. A simple red square that boldly occupied a wall, with its dainty numbers shimmering in gold arranged in a fine circle.
Three intricately designed needles went about in circles clocking days and nights. For a while, this marvellous machine amazed us for it could not only tell us the time but announced it with a melodious chime every passing hour. Once the lights were out, the chime was more of a lullaby, a gentle soothing soft tune. As if this were not enough, it even accurately displayed the day and date and faltered only on a leap year.
At a time where the human brain was still considered the smartest, owning a contraption such as this one was nothing short of amazing.
A strangely unhurried pace
When I think back, what I remember most is the fact that those intricate needles went about at a strangely unhurried pace. I had the time to stare at the needles dancing about in circles, to stop and listen to the chime and hum along. There was even a night when I sat up to check how the display of day and date switched to the next and experiment if the soft lullaby got louder if I switched the lights on while it chimed, and it did!
Today, there is are clocks occupying every room in my home — some digital, another a cuckoo announcing the hour, one smarter than us and a few others that run around quietly in circles. And yet, I can say for sure that unlike those clocks from my childhood days, these keepers of time are conspiring against me. There is no time to stop and stare, appreciate the cuckoo in its monotonous hourly task, to watch those needles dance — for they don’t dance any more but run as if they are on an unending race competing with me.
And then if I were to fall under the glowing spell of the phone, hit the social media icon that entices with its number notification in red, these time keepers quickly intervene and dissolve minutes into hours like magicians in a dispelling act. A mistake that cannot be undone!
As for the conspiracy of alarm clocks, that is another story altogether!
Is this slow dance of time a privilege of childhood or is it just that we are the architects of our sense of time?
Little Princess can spend hours sketching, painting, shredding and creating an absolute mess and would have still enjoyed every moment of doing it. And when it’s time to clean up, she has moved on into the next moment to make cleaning up another fun activity. I cannot help but ruin my next few moments wondering why I am perpetually stuck obsessing about the past or planning for an unforeseeable future but rarely living in the moment.
But as responsible adults, aren’t we the gatekeepers of time, always anticipating and planning for the next, learning from the previous or we simply wouldn’t get anything done. But while we are at it, here is a reminder for you and me — to enjoy the journey, especially the goodness of the people we meet, for it is we and not the conspiring clock, that are the architects of our sense of time.
Pranitha Menon is a freelance writer based in Dubai. Twitter: @MenonPranitha
