THE MARCH OF TIME

CELEBRATION OF TIME

Time just goes on and on and on. It never stops to take stock of what it left behind and never pauses to wait for anyone to catch up.

We keep running behind time trying to catch up with it. Someday when we stop and look back, we are surprised to find the many footsteps that we left behind us. Have we come such a long way? We wonder! Then we find that the face that looks back from then and the face that we have now has changed so much! Lines of wisdom, years, age have all left furrows on that once smooth cheek. The forehead has deep ridges like a train track. Though time has taken its toll externally, within we more or less remain the same.

THE WELL TRODDEN PATH

The same insecurities, the same fears, the same stage fright, the same inadequacies stare back at us. We are so busy running after time that we do not try to deal with these fears which keep on getting manifested within us.

I had this great fear of putting my head underwater. My husband tried very hard to make me overcome this fear, but I never managed. I had to keep my head over water come what may and so even when I went to the swimming pool everyday, I used to be the beached whale who never moved from the safest sanctuary.

My grand daughter who is 7 years old, used to try and encourage me. She would see me sitting in one place and come and tell me, "Nani, hold my hand, put your head under water, look, like this!" Her words and her desire to see me in water, made me "want" to get over this fear. 

Last week we went to a Holiday place called Centerparcs, near Cambridge. There is a beautiful swimming pool there with a number of rapids, slides, hot water, cold water and salt water pools. During my previous visit there, I used to simply sit in the hot water pool, which was a small enclosure. I would not move out of that enclosure even for two hours. This time with my new found determination to overcome my fear, when I found myself alone in the hot water pool, I slowly put my head under water, holding the sides of the pool with both my hands for dear life! I saw success! I could actually manage to hold my breath and remain under water. After coming out, I could breathe and was not gasping for breath. I tried it a few more times, and as soon as my inspiration Aaliya came to check on me, I told her, "Aaliya, I can put my head under water." We both then went to the Salt water pool where the rest of our family was busy swimming. I declared my new found capability and demonstrated the same to them proudly. I don't know if anyone would really realize how big that achievement meant to me. As chance would have it there was an under water photographer around, and we quickly got a photo taken of this memorable moment.

GRACEFUL GLIDING SWANS

Having got over this fear, I am now determined to learn swimming. Some day I will swim with my family. Everyone in my family takes to the water like a duck and hates to come out. Now I too will be able to join them!

Having said this, I wish to say, that there is no fear that one cannot overcome. Time will not stand by to allow us another extra moment. Within the time that we live, one has to make the most of it. Life is too short to dwell over miseries. Life and its memories are made up of our own experiences. It is in our own hands to make the experiences happy or sad. Each and every event in life can be seen from different perspectives. While the early bird catches the worm, it is also true that the early worm gets caught first and loses its life!

THE EARLY BIRD

I say enjoy every moment, savour life, take time to smell the flowers! Time is moving fast, and we cannot lag behind. Let's keep pace and stay with it. Let's not run after it!

WALK ON WITH TIME

Day and Night

Every morning as I walk on a path, I hear the musical chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves with a little breeze, and watch a bit of sunshine peeping out from the trees. These make my mornings so beautiful!

The same path when taken late in the night by me evokes the sensation of fear. I hear the hooting of the owl, the rustling of leaves, and also see a little sliver of the moon peeping from between the leaves, and instead of feeling nice and happy at the bounty of nature and natural surroundings; I actually feel a chill down my spine. It is fear! I want the path to end soon; I want to reach my destination as fast as I can. I double up my speed. In fact I find myself almost running the entire length back home. I look suspiciously at any person who passes me. I look with fear at every shadow that is cast around with the light of the moon.

In the morning when I walk on that very same path, every strangers' face is a friendly face with Good Morning written large on the face. The smiles are friendly. The rustling of the leaves make me feel the freshness of the breeze. The peeping sun tells me it's another day, which will be bright, beautiful, cheerful and purposeful. I look forward to the day ahead of me.

What happens at night?

Why is there the fear of the unknown?

Why does the rustling of leaves not make me feel cool and comfortable?

Why does every stranger appear like a potential monster? The smiles appear sinister?

Why? What is it about night and darkness that makes that very path become an endless journey?

The contrast of day and night make me wonder!

CROSSROADS OF THE ANCIENT WORLD.

BRITISH MUSEUM

The British museum in London was having a special exhibition of artifacts on loan from the Kabul Museum. I grabbed the opportunity of seeing this, as I thought that my chance of visiting Afghanistan is very remote. All these artifacts had been saved by some diligent Kabul Museum personnel who hid these artifacts at the time when there was massive destruction by religious fundamentalists. With the return of peace they have been brought out again, and are going around the world for all to see. 

Entry to the British Museum is normally free, but for this special section there was an entry fee. Photography was also not allowed for this display.

 What I saw left me quite bewildered. I had never really known the pre historical importance of Afghanistan, although I knew that it was on the ancient Silk Route. I knew that Babur had ruled here and that his tomb is in Kabul. I had also heard of the Bamiyan Buddha statues and their sad destruction by religious fundamentalists in 2001.

At the museum, after seeing the artifacts, I realised that the Afghans had a great history behind them. In ancient times there was no purdah system. Education, culture, art, beauty existed and flourished there. It was not at all like what it now is. Now Afghanistan to my mind is only associated with war, destruction, ruins, purdah, and the Taliban. Taliban literally means teacher! What are they teaching? I really wonder!

Afghanistan now I know is much more than Kabul,  Kandahar Anaar or pomegranate, pista, badaam, and the famous kabuliwala!

 Herat is a town, which lies on the ancient trade route of the Middle East, Central and South Asia. Herat was called Haraiva in old Persian, and at one time was also called Aria. This town was on the banks of the river Hari. Hari in Sanskrit means yellow or golden colour, and  in Persian the word for golden colour is "zar". I was fascinated to note the origin of the word 'zari'.

Bagram, is another ancient city. Bagram was also called Kapisa. This city was conquered by Cyrus of Persia in 500 BC, then by Alexander in 320 BC. He named the city  Alexandria. After the death of Alexander, Seleucus ruled here, so did Kanishka of the Kushan empire in 2nd Century AD.  A lot of treasures from the 2nd century AD, called "Bagram Treasures" have been found here. These included ivory plated stools of Indian origin, lacquered boxes from China, glass from Rome. Beautiful statues and silverware  were also found here. I saw a beautiful ivory statue of Ganga who stands on a makara,  a mythical creature which is part elephant, part crocodile and part fish. These were actually table legs, and were of Indian origin. This  Silk Route city had an amalgamation of different kinds of  cultures and the art of that time was therefore influenced by all those who passed by and brought treasures from distant lands. Now Bagram is better known for Bagram Airfield, being the US base.

Tillya Tepe or the "hill of gold" is also in Afghanistan.  A lot of gold ornaments were found in the tombs of six aristocrats who lived in this area almost 4000 years ago. Almost 20,000 pieces of ornaments were found in these tombs. These ornaments were made of gold, turquoise and lapis lazuli. The most beautiful and priceless article found here is an exquisite  gold crown which can be dismantled, and neatly folded so that it can be carried easily from place to place.  This crown is made up of five trees decorated with delicate flowers. There is a solid ring( crown) on which these trees are attached. It is a very beautiful Crown, which is quite big, yet is very delicate. The delicate  flowers are  attached in such a manner that they  move with the wind. It is a woman's crown. Besides this there is a heavy gold belt made with woven gold having two solid gold buckles.  There were a lot of coins, necklaces, and also medallions like beautiful buttons for fixing on clothes to hold them together or merely as decorations. To me these small ornaments seemed like the piping edges that we make on dupattas, with beads and similar decoration. The reconstructed dress of the female figure from the tomb was very similar to  the present day salwar kameez worn by Indian ladies. 

I also saw a gold goblet  with the design of a procession of bearded bulls on it. This was found in Tepe Fullol.This was a bowl which dates as far back as 2200 BC. This bowl was found by some farmers in 1966 and cut up to divide the gold  amongst themselves. The design of bearded bulls was a common design of ancient Mesopotamia, which is modern Iraq.

 I was quite amazed to see the beauty of the collection. Being on the silk route, Afghanistan was influenced by all those who passed by for the purpose of trade. Besides trade there were a lot of conquerors who came here and ruled. There was Cyrus from Persia, Alexander from Macedonia, and Timur, then Babar from Central Asia. All of them left their lasting impression on this region. However there was no display of any article having Buddhist influence. I was looking for it having known about the Bamiyan  Buddha. Chandragupta Maurya also had been here. Menander also called Milind in Pali, was a Greek King who ruled here around 160 BC, and had become a Buddhist. I was also looking for some relic which could confirm to me that Kandahar was indeed Gandhara from where Gandhari of Mahabharata fame came. There was nothing to that effect in this display.

Looking at Afghanistan today one is left wondering why ancient civilizations change so drastically. Does time have such a ravaging effect? What once was flourishing, prosperous, beautiful has now turned into a land which is only strife ridden. The purdah, the backwardness, the destruction of ancient relics makes me feel very sad. In Hindi there is a saying, "Khandahar bata rahein hain imaarat buland thi".  It means ruins are telling us that once the building was magnificent. 

A poem by Shelley also comes to my mind,

"Ozymandius"

"A traveller from an antique land

Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:

"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away."

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