A Little Bit Of Time - I

Let me recount to you the events of the night when I was born. It was a historic night indeed. The moment the world heard my first cry (a sweet melodious screeching sound :p) the clouds joined in the symphony with great crackle and thundering. The inky blue sky was marred with great bolts of lightening. All winged creatures were panic stricken by the disaster just born and flew helter-skelter to search for safety. A heavy storm picked up and threatened to blow everything in the way. Gaint trees shook violently. The very Earth threatened to collapse. And then...suddenly...the sky parted...and a divine voice announced, "Archika shall be impatient forever!" :p

Well, pardon the exaggeration, but the truth persists. I was, am, and will be impatient. I hate having to wait! For as long as I can remember, I always had a nagging disgust for that evil device named "watch". Its two arms, like swords, always drove me to despair. The mockery in their slow parikrama was unbearable. I was a bit sympathetic to the seconds-hand though, the poor thing :p

So whenever I asked mom, "When do I go to the park?", pat came the reply, "In the evening". So I asked how many hours more before it would be evening. Two? Oh no! One hour=sixty minutes. One minute=sixty seconds. Two hours=___seconds? I was too young to do the math (and lazy, ofcourse) but I knew that it was a lot of seconds. Gasp! How will I survive? The agony! And so I would spend those two hours glancing at the watch time and again, cursing it for taunting me, writhing in torture.

Again, I would cheerfully ask, "Mom, when will you make ice-cream?" And mom would reply, "Next week. Don't pester me". So again a repeat show of the whole thing would take place. One week=seven days. One day=twenty four hours. One hour=sixty minutes. One minute=sixty seconds. Seven days=___seconds? Gasp! How will I survive?

Same thing happened with the time for dad to come home, for Holi to come (you see, I love getting wet and dirty :p), for vacations to begin, for vacations to end, for the ice-cream to set, for the cake to bake, for my first bicycle, for its first puncture, for new course books, for new novels...the list never ends. In fact, if a friend and I ever planned an outing and she would propose to pick me up, I would tweak everything and make sure I was the one to pick her up, just to avoid the torture of having to wait.

But...God is cruel :p

( -to be continued)


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