The Relentless March of Time

Time is relentless. It marches on, with nary a thought about the debris it leaves behind. Just goes on and on and on.

There was a time when I loved to dance. And then there was a time when I could not dance anymore as I needed to train myself for earning money. I thought I would not be able to do anything if I could not dance. But I did do things - not perfect, not soul stirring, but marketable. I did not dance again. Time marched on. Unrelenting.

There was a time when I built the castle of my life on someone's shoulder. And then, there was a time when the shoulder collapsed and died. I thought I would never be able to build again. But I did. First a shanty, then a hovel, and now a house. Not the perfect abode, but a shelter nevertheless. Time marched on. Unstopping.

There was a time when I loved someone. And then, there was a time when he walked away. I thought I would not be able to breathe without him. But I breathed. And made eyes at other men, lusted for them - not lovers but wayfarers and companions. I did not love again. Time marched on. Uncaring.

There was a time when I birthed someone and fed the blood of my womb to her. And then, there was a time when the womb turned back on her and killed her. I thought I would never eat again if it was not to feed her. But I did. I ate, nourished my guilty womb. Not to fill up my breasts with milk - but to fill the bowels with excrement and piss, and give energy to body to survive. Time marched on. Unseeing.

There was a time when I befriended someone and laughed, dreamed and worked together. And then there was a time when the friend betrayed to save some money, and then turned into a foe. I thought I would never share a dream and joke again. But I did. I laughed and joked and broke bread together with people. Not with a friend, but with acquaintances, neighbors and relatives. Not that they got half the jokes, but we laughed together. Time marched on. Unfazed.

There was a time when I wanted to create something of beauty. And then there was a time when I broke my knuckles, hurt my eyes, and I could create no more. I thought I would never want to work again. But I did. I worked to build things which could sell, be branded and be useful. Not beautiful, not pretty - but they were things people wanted and paid money for. Time marched on. Unmindful.

There was a time when I wanted to be a soulmate to someone. And then there was a time when I realized that he did not need a soulmate, but a flatmate. I thought I would never do soul-talk again. But I did. I bared my soul to him in the hope he would someday listen to my soul. He did not listen, nor care. I settled to being a flat mate. Time marched on. Inexorable.

And there will be time when I will cease to exist. when this compromised life, such as it is, will be snuffed out. And then, there will be no more time to build the glorious life I knew I could have had. I will dissolve into nothingness, with my dreams and thoughts and stories and loves and betrayals still in my bones. The bones will be burnt and cast away into the streams and rivers and fields. Time will continue to march on. For others. Unaffected.