By Ahmet Abdulaziz….
The ticking of the clock does not change its pace. It neither gets faster nor slower, yet we feel time passing too quickly, as we continue to remain busy in our daily routines. Whenever I sit, getting fed up with my problems, a slow motion film of my past runs in front of my life at a quick pace.
That’s the point when I say that the time passes too quickly. Scenes of innumerable events of my life, both important or unimportant, come and go in front of my eyes, and I simply say “wow”, and nothing else. This is the speed of time, and the speed with which our lives are passing.
I remembered just yesterday, it was 1st January 1962, and I was in primary school. Our teacher told us to write 1st January 1962, on the next page of each writing paper.
In the next scene, I see myself sitting on the outside steps in front of our school, with friends, looking at the cars passing on the main road at a distance. The factor of entertainment was that we all were anxious to recognise every car by its make. For example one of us would shout, “it is Austin”, another would say, “The white one is Ford”, or “that yellow one is Chevrolet”, etc. I remember the easiest one to recognise out of all cars was Volkswagen, which still is.
The scene changes and I see myself riding in a tram during the early 1960s, with my father. In those days there used to be double decker buses, and I always wanted to sit on the front seat on the top floor.
Then all of a sudden I see myself sitting in front of the television when my father bought it. Television was very new in Pakistan at that time. It was the late 1960s.
With a blink of an eye, I see myself talking to my friend, immediately after a telephone was installed in our house, in 1967. I remember my father had dialled the number of my friend and had asked me to speak. I remember that at that time there was only one other student in my class who was having a telephone at his home, and I had asked him to give me his number, a day earlier.
The long years of studying in school and college pass by my eyes, so fast that I could not remember anything later, even though they had passed slowly as if I was watching a movie.
Oh yes, I must mention, that I frequently see myself sitting in a cinema with my father, watching “Jack the Giant Killer”, There was a film of the World Heavyweight title fight between Floyd Patterson and Ingemar Johansson, before the start of the film. The year must be 1962 or maybe 1963.
The scene changes and I find myself in front of Rahim Jan & Co. Chartered Accountants, to start as an Articled Clerk, to reach the ultimate goal of becoming a Chartered Accountant. That was 4th April 1974. The faces of different colleagues, seniors and juniors, staff working at various companies where I went as auditor, briskly pass through my mind, making me smile, laugh and sad. The total period of 17 years that I spent at Rahim Jan & Co. Chartered Accountants, working at almost all posts, pass by my eyes so quickly that I always want to slow its speed. But as I say the time passes too quickly.
All of a sudden I see myself traveling on a train, all the way from Karachi to Istanbul. It took 17 days, full of adventure. That particular adventure had started on 2nd November 1972 and had ended on 17th November 1972.
Then I see myself saying goodbye to my parents in Istanbul, late at night, with my broken arm bandaged, boarding the PIA flight, for Pakistan, stamping that brave adventure of my father as failed. I see myself conveying to my parents at that very moment of my strong commitment to returning back to Istanbul one day.
In fact, my strong commitment and its announcement changed my whole life. So I could never be the same person which I was before that particular date. That was 21st December 1972.
The full details of my two subsequent North Cyprus adventures, with the aim of digging in here, just thrill me with the speed with which the time has passed.
Oh not to forget 11th June 1987, when we got married. The birth of children, in Karachi and in Lefkoşa, pass by my eyes, as if I was just yesterday standing at the Tomras Mahirel Clinic, waiting for the delivery of our second son. I remember I had to take care of my 4 year old son, all alone, the whole night, for the very first time of my life. That was an eventful and unforgettable night for me.
My art exhibitions, both in Pakistan and in TRNC, pass by my mind, showing me each and every painting that I had exhibited, in a fraction of a second.
Going through all this, all of a sudden I pass myself running on the roads of Karachi, participating in the middle and long distance road races. I see myself finishing last in each and every such race that I participated in. That was the 1980s.
The scene changes abruptly and I see myself playing on my drums, with friends, participating in small functions, playing songs that we could hardly have learned to play.
The scene changes and I find myself learning and working to start publishing my own weekly newspaper. The scene ends up abruptly since this adventure flopped badly.
Yet the film continues, bringing loads of memories, making adventures of my life passing before my eyes, at a very high speed.
I wonder how could I see the whole of my life in such a short period of time. But it happens to me, again and again. I am sure it happens to all of you too.
How did all this happen? My simple answer is that this is the actual speed of our lives. Just a fraction of second. This is what our whole life is.