How old would you be if you did not know how old you were?

Sneha Verma | 11-Jan-2017

The sand clock ticks...time is running out, born to die the mortal man stares intently at the sand grains slipping through that fragile tunnel between the cosmic planes. Birth is beautiful, youth enchanting...but decay inevitable. It is this subconscious awareness of the known unknown that sets ablaze the chambers of existential insecurity within the transient harbours of mortality. To live there are only 24 hours, 7 days, 4 weeks, 12 months and 365 days. These figures drive us crazy, robbing the life out of our breath and leave us gasping through the moments which seem to edge towards the last. The soul shrinks within its own home, staying away from the walls...the erosion has begun.

How old would you be if you did not know how old you were

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This is maddening as life passes us by we are busy counting our days and cramming a futuristic utopia in an ailing present. The progressive minds of wise intellectuals paint a bright picture of the absent future by draining the colours of the moments in hand. Time is a mysterious thing, an absent oasis in the desert of our lives, devoid of the greens of what should have been the blossoms of happiness sprouting out of the seeds of immediate contentment. The ticking hours and the haunting sand clock is just a nasty myth, only to drive a man away from his most precious possession life.

Fear engulfs the spirit of our lives. We are scared to laugh, scared to cry, death haunts us and life now is too complex to offer the elixir it was meant to be. Our Guardian sent us to learn...we left our home not to return to it terrified we were supposed to overcome. Outlive our insecurity and kill our fear. But instead our thoughts killed us...and time was the dagger driven not through our mortal bodies alone but even through the immortality of our souls, wounding it is true we age and as the body wrinkles and the bones wither the nearer we go to what always awaits. But before we establish this as a hopeless future for our mundane existence we need to look around.

Yes, we need to stop, stop walking away from life in the pursuit of a mechanised living. We need to introspect, look within and ask ourselves is this what we were meant to be? Ageing by the day is this the only truth? We need to hark back a little and travel back to those blessed days when this journey actually began, not to resent our youthful losses but to remember the things we hardly ever noticed. Today we need to ask ourselves why the simple pleasures of our innocent days faded away...when was the last time we played hide and seek or the vibrant colours of the gas balloons be a source of utter fascination to those huge eyes filled with childhood dreams.

When was it that the magic of our kitchen sets fizzled out and the toys seized to converse, satiating our immature curiosities.Why was it that those paper boats in rainy puddles in which our earliest fanciful journeys were undertaken never reached harbour and lost their way. And lastly, those sinless messages written on frosted window panes on winter nights were forever forgotten. We need to stop not just to look back but also to see when did we exactly age? What was that fateful day when youth left us and an endless sense of withered old age dawned upon our ageless senses or did such a thing as age ever mattered at all...because God never set an age limit to enjoy the colds of winter and the sunshine of summer.

Nor did He ever assign any number of years to the balmy touch of raindrops. Then why all the time is a man trapped in the imaginary shackles of man-made calendars. It is all a fluke, the fact is we become old when our mind is aged, the imaginations become colourless and the beauteous forms of the divine world which surround us escape our searching senses. It is true, ageing is not our choice but growing old is.. why is it always so important to keep a track on the passing years to consider our age while letting go of all the wonderful experiences that we have had in this process. The need is to change our outlook and view the increasing number of years in our kitty as an indication, not of how close we have gone towards death but how far we have come in living this beautiful life.

Let us get up today and look into the mirror, at our matured faces and the freckled skin, what is it that has changed? While the body seems to have weakened a bit has something along with this also weakened? While the energy seems to be drained is there something else too that has been drained through the years? Yes, It is the will to live life just as it used to be and while we assess our years in that mirror, it is those eyes which seem to be drained of all the young dreams that they used to once harbour but today are dim and empty. Growing up is feared but maybe we forget that not all fruits get the opportunity to ripen and not all buds bloom. Let us paint a new image of life today because age is an artifice of divinity which can only look beautiful if we fill it with the colours of eternal youth.

Therefore, let us all take a step towards living young because age is just a number. All flowers in the lap of Mother Nature survive for a limited time and nothing lives forever. Yet, let us today make an effort, not to escape old age or to avoid the reality of the preordained decay just by closing our eyes, but rather embrace it with both hands and that to with youthful enthusiasm because the true contentment in life does not come by never growing old, but by staying young right down to our souls until the day when we are finally released from our mortal captivity into the free heavens of ageless possibilities.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of The writers are solely responsible for any claims arising out of the contents of this article.
About the Author
Sneha Verma
A Student of English Literature, I love to romance words and. blend my thoughts to the beauteous forms of creative expression. I take pleasure in the universal abstractness of human creativity and would not leave a single opportunity to spin the human circumstance within the fragile web of expressive words.