Khaleej Times (Life) / 18 October 2013
It’s queer but the two things that give me a rattling sense of the passage of time are weekends and children, especially when we are in their birthday week.
“Wasn’t it only the other day that she came onboard?” many an amused mother would say repeatedly, relishing the sight of her young thing, birthday after birthday. For some reason, it’s only when we see the children grown that we realise our own age and grasp with disbelief the fact that they haven’t grown alone. We have aged with them, regardless of our frequent denials and clever attempts to conceal any apparent signs. Their rites of passage have been our milestones in life too.
So is it with weekends. The arrival of weekends, much as they are a relief from the mad routines, are also unrelenting markers of time. Sometimes, it feels as if we have hopped from one weekend to the other, the days in between obliterated by ceaseless chores. “Wasn’t it only yesterday that we were on a Friday? And here we have another! How time flies!” we often exclaim, sometimes with a shudder caused by the subtle connotation of it.
Apert from my awe at the fleeting nature of time and the fear that it inspires, I happened to experience something unique recently when I viewed some photographs taken at a family reunion in India. Frame after frame of extended family members flashed in front of me as I played the slideshow. I gazed on three generations of relations, most of whom I had not met in ages. I tried to travel the time machine to summon up frescoes from the past, shaking my head disbelievingly at the changes time had wrought in them — the irrevocable assault of age on the older generation, the slow yet perceptible takeover of maturity in the succeeding generation (to which I belong), and the spurt in the bracket of nephews and nieces, many of whom I have not even met.
What I felt in those staggering moments is hard to explain. There was a cluster of relations with whom I haven’t touched base in a long time, some that I haven’t even known, some whom I know from days in the past when writing letters and being in touch was in vogue but now felt distant and disconnected from, little ones who have now grown into handsome, young adults and some brand new entrants. I was staring at an array of my own people who knocked me into the realisation that a lot of time had passed by and in its passage we had forfeited many connections.
I am not sure if it is fair to blame it all on the pressures of life, although it is the easiest thing to do. We have fallen victims to the habit of crouching behind reasons and absolving ourselves of guilt and responsibility. But somewhere, haven’t we ourselves to blame for not giving enough to our associations in life?
It makes me think again – don’t we any more value relations and friendships in the way our folks used to before the Internet was born and the mobile phone was discovered? Is it that associations these days are merely need-based and not rooted in good old genuine affection and attachment? Have we grown too egocentric to reach out on our own? Or are we truly pressed for time?
I have been troubled by these thoughts for quite some time now. That recent experience has only added credence to that dull ache of lost affections in our constantly shrinking world.
Mark the irony – while the world is shrinking, gaps are growing! So much for the service of technology!
Can we ever hope to fill in those gaps? Do we have what it takes to reclaim and resurrect the crumbling citadels of lasting relationships?
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