My time ?

And I said to my heart last night…

“Your time will come, my dear worry not…your time will come.”

But how can I be sure of it…how I know whether or not my time has not already come and gone?

Perhaps one afternoon on the veranda in a lost village...(with no name and no Google map) with a swing in the garden…rain…noise of thunder…shuttered room and sheeted bed...with a pillow under my head and a white sheet on my laps...perhaps then it will be my time? 

But it is too early right now to even think of that.

Or may be the hot mornings in the sunny room in a lively city...when the children cried loudly from the public school across the way, “Pak Sir Zameen Shad Baad…”and I will be sitting on the low couch with my written books and papers...happy and safe and calm....perhaps my time will be then…but I can’t see it at all.

Perhaps…I spent it already…all of it…squandered out…in taking cabs…having nonsensical phone calls…convincing people that I love them...loosing them…caring….thousands of books devoured by the eye…cooking…in suspicions…tears…jealousy…hatred and fear.

Perhaps…it is now…tonight…the dark night of February…where I am sitting with emptiness in my body and heart…besides the side table on which placed is her picture…drying my hairs…older…more tired…desperately silent…unhappily alone…with shattered faith and broken dreams disappearing with the dreadful pain in my shoulder.

Perhaps…my heart…this very instant is your time…pretty late hmmm…but still your own…your peculiar…your promised and presaged moment…out of all moments forever.

This is your time !