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Hands of Time

Time is a tough guardian. It makes memories fade away like writings on sand. The freshness and excitement of a new experience, once so enchanting, dulls like the ink on prayer flags high up on the mountains. Try as one might, one cannot hold on to too much for too long. Its nature’s way of ensuring that sanity can be preserved in a human being. Yet, some memories defy time and stay ever fresh. That also seems to be for our sanity…I place my hand in my young daughters and instantly a picture is taken by the mind’s eye for safekeeping. This picture will be etched just like the first time her chubby fingers held mine as a baby. I think of my mother’s hands, showing signs of a lifetime of work… I think of the times they have created ever so lovingly – favourite foods, warm sweaters, blessings, reassurances, prayers…they have never stopped working and weaving their Imagemagic.  They say hands reveal a person’s age like nothing else can. I say hands reveal how much a person has loved. Time definitely leaves its trace on everything it touches…

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