The Story of Age and Time

‘Ma would wrap me up warm under the midnight blue blankets. The smell of a cinnamon candle filled the air, setting the atmosphere at a stand-still. I faced mother, looking directly at her and see her glancing towards me with a smile. At this point mother was becoming very frail and weak, her legs began to ache – her body became sore so often. A pain that held onto her, at her old yet fragile age.  

“Ma, I don’t know what I would do without you. If you were to ever leave me, I don’t think I could live another day.” Some may say my words are somewhat selfish, but I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t true. My mother looked at me, and with a slight giggle she said: “my child, I used to say the same thing to my mum when I was just a little girl. But time is something that cannot be stopped. Time grows and moves forward, just like us humans.” I somewhat shrugged off what my mother had said and waved my hand towards her “oh ma, shhh. Don’t say that. You’ll live a long life by my side.” Ignorantly passing a steady smile, grinning from cheek to cheek. It’s funny really, the way the universe brings people into your life. You don’t realise that this life, can really be a bitter game of hope and fear. I came to a realisation that age follows with time and time waits for no one. One day you’re born into this world, the next you can climb the ladder of growth and prosperity. One leg in and one leg out, the steps to growth is what they say… well what I say. As the days go by, so do you. The constant routine of waking up and sleeping, the constant routine of living and breathing – it’s something that can only stop with time. 

As I senselessly smiled at my mother, she laughed and drank her tea in slow sips.  

“Well I’m only telling you the truth…” she looks over at me. 

“Yes well ma, you’re still young. So please stop…” I said with a sharp tone. You see in moments like these, I do what I can to avoid this kind of conversation. Growing old, becoming frail and eventually giving yourself away to time. I hate using the word so I avoid it as much as I can… I just pray that time remains silenced from age itself.’  

Death’s slowly calling. 

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Faiza Saqib
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