by Abed Chaudhury | April 16, 2018 11:41 am
In the beginning there was only time, also known as chron, or surpringly similar Kranti, a word that we are familiar with in Bangla. Making time come together is Syn-Chrony, and in sanskrtised Bangla we might say “Sankranti” or shonkranti, one in Poush and One in Chaitra. As it turns out as I write this we are near Chaitra Shankranti or the beginning of Bangla new year, a Synchrony of time and season. It is time to tell this story.
Which story is it? Obviously it ia my story, the multitudes of little story that mixes and matches, amalgamates and synchronises to create what we call life. Often we do not say because it is not time yet. In a famous poem of Rabindranath the sanyasin tells the dancing girl “ Tonight it is time Finally…” as she lies moribund on the street with a just a little bit of time left. “A time comes that comes but rarely” Pndit Nehru says of the moment of Indias freedom. And in Lion King the wise primate Rafiki says “It is Time….”
My time started a long long time ago. As I grew up I became aware of time around me, in a rural hinterland of Sylhet District. I will take you there in that space and that time slowly. You will get a sense of how a human organism becomes aware of the events around it and how events follow events to create a semblance of lived life and becomes a story of human struggle, failure and achievement.
It is a story of recapitulation; of seeing life from far away in time.
Let it then begin…….
It is time that it began.
(to be continued…)
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