Time

You wake up, thinking the world is yours, and then the finitude of what you can do, suppresses you, but you still press against the grain, and that’s the paradox, the riddle. Seconds spent in misery seem like hours, the painful throes of angst and delusion never leaving you, and hours spent in elation seem like mere seconds, the movie’s over, you’ve had your laugh and go home, but then love transcends seconds, minutes, hours or even days. You just let go, and find in her a solace, and even if it’s a moment, it lasts, but heartbreak only seems to transcend, but once you snap, and hear the clock ticking, see the hands moving, you get up again and brave this paradox, this amazing centrifugal movement, which is also centered, this thing that restricts, but also frees, the mystery of life itself: Time.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)

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