As I watched the empty road on a Sunday morning, it seemed as if the entire place was void of any signs of humans. It took couple of hours for folks to pass a couple of miles just a couple of days ago. As I passed through clear roads, I could imagine how it was once filled up with snow and how people could barely drive. As I gazed at the big mountains, which apparently looks peaceful and serene, I could imagine the once molten lava and the flurry of activities that went along with it in its own creation.
As I look into someone’s resting mind, I still see the magnitude of the thought processes that it has endured. Reflecting back on my own thought process in the context of my own mind tells me how time’s passage has took me through the various possibilities that I alone got to experience. Time, though it seemingly fades the reality of a context, but yet, carries the impression with it. Time, in the seemingly quiet parts of the world, has seen the greatest activities passing through it. The wars, the people, the storms, the earthquakes and all of it.
We are just glitches when compared to the magnitude of what time has endured. And yet, our mind is limited by the time that we have got to endure. In a way, time is bounded in the context of our own mind. We are what we have experienced. We are what we have struggled for. We are what we cried for. We are what we overcame. As time passes us by, we, ourselves become products of time, just carrying the impressions and the outcomes than reflecting the facts themselves.