The Shells Of Time

The Shells Of Time

Her thoughts couldn’t be chained anywhere, neither in the present, nor in the past, particularly on a subject like me, for I was right there before her, commanding all her attention. Her heart sank within her even as she looked on. The embarrassment sunk deep in her heart; she could hardly stand before me.

It was evident that she still distinguished me by the same affection she harboured for me a couple of years ago. I didn’t doubt it. Women love with all their heart and soul, and it remains unchanged for a long time. Men are a bit different when it comes to this quarter. The continuance of my preference was uncertain after all these years. She had been elbowed out of my life before she could be my destiny. A lot of equations had changed since we parted.

Time and space change everything, and yet she was unchanged after all these years. In fact, she looked all the more beautiful. There was a hint of the early dawn in her eyes; a momentary blush appeared on her cheeks as she realized my presence. Apparently, she had me in her thoughts; the outlook was a bit altered now. I was not, and would never be the apple of those eyes again.

Her parents’ opposition to our alliance seemed baseless to me at that time, but it makes sense now. An unstable professional career faced me at that time. Fate had brought academic success prostrating at my feet, but I still crave for professional success. Things would have been quite different for both of us had I been professionally employed at that time. She would have been with me as my wife, the past couple of years would have witnessed an intimacy between us, and Zeenat would have been a reality. It would have been a different world.

But all this seems to be a dream today. Time moved on from that point and brought each of us before different realities. Sometimes I feel there are different shells of time, each running parallel to the other. There is a shell of time where Zeenat is a reality, there is a different time zone where I’ve escaped the car-accident without a head injury, and yet another shell of time where Ammi still lives.

The screeching of the door-bell brought me back to the reality. There never were different shells of time, there never would be. Life is to be lived as fate presents it before us, there are very little options. She stands before me affianced to someone else, I remain unemployed, Zeenat remains the dream she has always been, and Ammi awaits the Second Coming. But I thank Allah for all the dreams that could come true, and even for those that couldn’t. Time marches on.

The Second Coming is a poem by Keats dealing with the resurrection of Jesus Christ on The Day of the Judgment.