THE PASSING MOMENTS

THE PASSING MOMENTS
As I peeled off the paper covering the cake of soap today, I was mesmerized by the fragrance emanating from the paper. I preserved the paper covering to preserve the fragrance till I finally threw it off a few moments ago. I could not have kept it in the form forever, although I wanted to preserve the novelty of the experience. The fragrance is still fresh in my mind, although the physical form is no longer with me.

The physical from of each moment fades in into eternity as and when the next moment takes over. The passage of time has always impressed me with its ubiquitous flow. At times, it is a painful experience for me, while at other moments, it transforms itself into a beautiful enigma. Of course, behind the beautiful form, there lies another form of the passing moments.

The passing moments always leave behind a lasting impression on me. Though the physical form of each moment is evanescent, it vanishes as soon as the next moment manifests itself, yet I have always wanted to capture the abstract form of the entity; although its fragrance that is like that of the new cake of soap, I know that it cannot be captured, I don’t want to lose it. The freshness of each moment is the most beautiful part of it, it fades as time moves ahead, each end every moment of my life fades in to eternity as the next moment arrives. The passage of time pushes the passing moments of my life into my history, the behemoth of time marches ahead.

As time marches ahead, every passing moment of my life fleeing from the clutches of time behaves like young children brought up in a bucolic background chasing rabbits in the field. The passing moments swim in my mind like these children swim in a village pond, these moments splash around my conscious self like kids running around a slushy paddy field and they jump into my vibrant present like these kids jump from trees into ponds. Each child maintains a distinct personality despite the similarity in experience. Each passing moment has left behind a different experience for me, each moment has struck a different chord in the harp of my life, every moment that fades into obscurity has resonated with a different frequency in my life. The difference demands a creative approach to the expression of each moment, novelty of expression is what is sought for in every moment of my life. Novelty at each turn of my life demands creativity to be at its peak. Creativity requires freshness to be in abundance. I’m grateful that each moment of my life is fresh and new, its expression should be novel and new, every moment of my life should be expressed with freshness.

The freshness and novelty of the passing moments of my life is lost like the fragrance of soap in a few moments. I have always wanted to preserve the novelty and excitement of the passing moments. The efforts to preserve the novelty and freshness are called art. My art is simply an effort to preserve the freshness of each passing moment. I have preserved my experiences in the form of words, I have captured the passing moments in words. The effort is aimed at repairing the broken locks of my destiny. I want to rewrite my destiny, they are an effort to make my destiny bite the dust before the passing moments. All my efforts ate in vain because, the ends of the day, the winners are the passing moments.

Every passing moment of my life strikes my intellect with such a sharp force that each and every element of the artillery of my life is shaken. It is the element of surprise in the drams of life that is its soul. The freshness of each impact, the element of surprise in the drama of life is its soul. The freshness of each impact, the element of surprise in the dram of life, doesn’t liner for a long time to come. The freshness and novelty of each moment fades with the passage of time. I do want to capture the innocence with which each moment manifests itself. Each new and novel moment of my life brings a sense of novelty with itself. I want to capture this novelty in words. I want to capture the thrilling moments that would bring Zeenat into the world. These moments would resonate my life with fresh music: the music would be the best ever, it would be my way of declaring my victory over my fate, it would be like having crossed a very busy road.

Crossing the road is an ordeal that I have to undergo everyday. With cars, scooters, and bikes zooming across the road, I fear being run over, but I cross the road all the same because the office stands at the other end of the road. Life presents numerous obstacles in my way everyday, I’m intimidated by the heavy traffic traversing the road, but I cross over all the same; this is the test that
Allah puts me to, I’m intimidated by the problems haunting my existence, but I shall not pause. I have to appear for an examination several times, I am subjected to an examination everyday. The sweet fragrance from the paper covering the soap is enticing enough; though it is evanescent, yet I cross the road all the same.