Read Part 1 here.
It soothes me to believe that a neighbour wakes up hearing the twelve second sweet drum roll at somewhere after midnight - remember our antique clock has no sense of time and purpose, although it did not forget its purpose on purpose - it saddens me that its chimes are as useless as an index-less encyclopedia.
On a tangential note, my mom says that as the dawn approach, at about six in the morning, the chimes are so unbearable that even the dumb donkey of the nearby dhobi runs around flapping its long ears - it doesn't bother me at all, I mean the ding-dong of clock, not the donkey.
That's when my dad's dear friend told us the secret of the antique clock. Dramatically, as if in a Shakespeare play, he said,
" It's far from a mere machine, and so close to a living being,
It seeks attention, like the children at dawn bed-peeing,
A stopped clock is correct twice a day,
An unwound clock is never correct a day."
Ha!...The antique clock needs rewinding - an act of kindness and attention to keep up the top performance. I can only exclaim at the coincidence - it is just what we want in our life. Unwind and reflect - a small act every day to keep us on our toe, and at our peak performance level.
After all, rewinding is the act of telling yourself the story of the person you want to be, and if you can't remind yourself of that ideal person every day, no one else will do it for you. And you will soon forget the person you wanted to be - just like the purposeless antique pendulum clock.
You see, all the adults are like antique pendulum clocks, we need to unwind, rewind and let go of things at times, although it is often more cumbersome and tiresome than allowing chance to take its course. Why take a chance?
