Droplets of time

The water drips unhindered. The sound, sweet in the beginning starts to grow louder, it appears to grow louder atleast. I know that because i know the distance between the mouth of the tap and the wash basin is not changing, neither is the size of the drop. So why does the sound of the drop hitting the surface appear to be louder every passing moment? Not only that, all the other sounds begin to fade into the back ground every passing second. Its like your ears and your mind are trying to focus on that tip blip tip of the droplets. Your mind shuns all other thoughts to identify the rhythm in that simplest of sounds, to decipher its meaning which doesn't even exist. Normally, the mind would tell itself that fact, but even the mind is demoted to the back seat. You think that this is probably the only sound there is, or probably the only dominant sound. You think this is what matters to you at this moment, and your mind isn't there to tell you you're wrong. You feel it growing on you, when suddenly, the sound blends into the environment. Its no more distinct, its no more isolated from every other sound. You cannot even make out separate drops now, and slowly, it fades back to wherever it came from. And tries to go back to normal. But the mind refuses to take the change immediately. You can still imagine the sound of the droplets, when its no longer there. But eventually even that goes away.



Life strangely goes on in the above fashion. People and moments fall from the tap of fate into your past like droplets, most of them meeting the same end. But the negligible distance through which they fall is the present.




You look into the basin and find a really small depression, into which a small quantity of water, around 3 4 drops, has accumulated. Atleast that'll remind you of the sound of the drops, and that they did fall.




Some things never leave you. Strange but true.