I see time! Yes, I literally do!

Time is what it is.

And that which it is has perhaps never been grasped by the human mind.

Man, as he occupies his noble office of seeking meaning, has for the longest time ventured into this amorphous subject. He has desired to lay to rest every point of divergence that he and his brother have on the question of time.

He has thus been led to speculate, theorize, pontificate, argue. But his stand has never been solid. His brother, who by the way also seeks to make sense of the time concept, by philosophy and reason, has endeavored with an equal determination to explain the subject. The result of which is the emergence of wide spectra of ideas. Each in conflict with the other.

But for me, this thing is simple. Now, I may not explain the thausands upon thausands of narratives out there. I may not even precisely point out the definition of time. It is of course too much to ask of me a scientific formula in any of its given respect.

What I have is a real, relatable, and perhaps, an unobjectionable evidence of time and its passage.

There was a day, I remember, a day of awakening. On that day my mind dared to think. As it were, I asked myself, “Why do I suffer physical pain at any given time. It could be a bruised knee. A hurt nail. A scratch here or there. A scratch here and there, and there too. Look, I am now bleeding. Aah, there’s a scar here. There’s another there. A mark is left over that place...”

That was a long time ago, a decade ago at least, no less. My scars and marks are now beyond trace. Use a lense, use a keen sensor. Somehow, fresh skin has it all covered. In fact, the dark (nay, the very black) circular mark that was on my left leg is now lost. I wouldn’t imagine then that I would be freed from the constant reminder of how my leg was close to an amputation. The scar of a roting leg had impressed hard on the spot, and was determined to live along, ever.

But time has done its thing. Its passage is very evident before my eyes. My brain comprehends a significant aspect of it. Right now, if I look at my skin I can hardly locate a scar. I think that is the doing of time. Right now, my mind has no perception of pain. I haven’t cut my finger, neither touched a hot coal. I have not engaged fist-wise with a friend, and I haven’t fell in the course of my running. Definitely, I have grown up, and that too, is the doing of time.

I see time.