I am a little taken aback when the dealer addresses my nephew as ‘sir’. The addressee, of age four and twenty and a little under six feet, is still a kid in my eyes. But the man keeps on speaking to him reverently answering all his queries with respectful patience. I keep on stealing glances at my nephew from the corner of my eyes. Has he really grown up? If he is, in the eyes of the showroom owner, then why not in my eyes? Why do I fail to accept his age? Am I averting the truth? Why at the mention of his name does my memory re-wind twenty years back when he was a mere crawler or a toddler?
I see him playing with his favourite toys. I see him falling down while trying to crawl up the park wall. I see him making mistakes while trying to learn cycling. And I almost call out aloud, “Be careful, child!” Suddenly my reverie is broken by a strong, confident voice. I come back to the present. I am standing in the middle of a well-decorated showroom. Time has moved on, hasn’t it? Yes, that’s right! Time has moved on but I am not with time. I still lag somewhere in the past which is now a mere fiction of time.
That is exactly what happens when we are not in sync with our ‘now’. When we do not accept our present and keep on recreating the past in our mind’s eye. That is what happens when we do not follow time or move on with its onward motion. Coming to think of it isn’t it but really strange how we cannot go back in time and erase our mistakes or rebuild whatever remains half done. But time is linear and sooner we realize it the better.
My friend’s son has this standing complaint against his mother that she is always trying to control his life. He is a big hulk of a man of three and thirty. His father keeps on reminding his mother that he is no more a child but she refuses to accept it. Today I realize wherein lies the seed of discord. She has not moved on with time like me. When I meet her I shall tell her not to make the same mistake that I do, I decide.
As I struggle with my thoughts my nephew finishes his necessary purchases and we move out of the shop. While reversing his car, I am about to caution him to look behind and check out that no other vehicle is rearing at the back. Then I check myself in the nick of time. No need of these unnecessary precautions. He is an adult now. He knows what is to be done. He is the best judge of not only his own good but mine too.
Let me lean on his shoulders so that he can support me. Let me depend on him so that he can show me the way. Let me listen to him so that he can advise me. Let me dispense with my ego which incites me to dominate because I feel I am more experienced and knowledgeable than he is. Let me accept the irrefutable fact that my time has receded. It is his time now. Let me give way to youth and stand aside so that I can enjoy this moment when he takes charge and guides me and I follow him willingly and acquiescently.
Let me accept time. Let me move on with time.
He stops the car near our doorstep. Walks out first to open the car door for me. I take his arm to step out on the road. He shoots a volley of instructions...”Don’t forget to take the house keys.....Be careful with the paper bags...Hold them carefully otherwise you’ll drop the eggs....Remember you have to take your pills soon after dinner...”
I smile...The table has turned. I am now at the receiving end. And I accept my position gladly.
