Long ago, Earth was filled with all that was beautiful and fragrant. A carpet of green shrubs, bushes and creepers filled with lovely red, yellow, pink and blue flowers. Trees and bushes were laden with fruits of all sizes and shapes, sweet, sour and bitter. Birds with different plumage – some with short tails, others with long feathers – perched and sat on the branches of the trees.
Elephants ate the fruits, and other beasts halted under the shade of the trees to rest. Piglets, pups and kittens played with each other in the bright sunshine during the day. Bees and butterflies moved from one flower to another, buzzing and singing a beautiful tune.
Well, it was a lovely time. All humans and their children played with the elephants, horses, and even eagles smelled the flowers and sat under the shade of trees.
It was a time of plenty. The fields were rich with crops, there were plenty of fruits, and the rivers, ponds and streams flowed with clear, sweet, fresh water. No one went hungry, and people seemed to live forever.
At first, Earth was happy, too. She loved the young people and the animals and birds and insects. She was happy that they were happy. Years passed by and decades went by. The numbers among the animals, birds, beasts and butterflies multiplied. Well, among human beings, too. Eventually, Earth began to feel restless. She could not keep the count anymore, and, in agitation, slowly began to tilt a little. She tilted to the left and then to the right and tried to adjust her space to bear the population. Alas! One fine day, she cried out loud and beckoned to the powers of nature to help her.
“Oh! Someone help me! I can’t bear this burden any longer. No one is leaving, and their numbers are increasing! I cannot balance myself anymore.”
When the forces of nature heard her lament, the wind, air, fire and ether convened for a meeting. They recognized that people, birds, beasts, plants and trees couldn’t inhabit Earth indefinitely. There needed to be room for new life. What was to be done?
Father Time resided at the edge of the world, deep in slumber within his cave. Unused to labour, he was always at rest. The elements journeyed together to his abode to discuss the matter. As fire illuminated the dark cave upon entry, Father Time stirred from his deep sleep, perplexed by the commotion.
“It’s time for you to act and address the issue of population and stagnation on Earth,” they implored. “The trees tower higher, flowers bloom larger, fruits grow enormous, and beasts and birds become giants. Everything seems to endure indefinitely. Only you, Father Time, possess the power to not only foster growth but also facilitate decay and passage. Warn them of old age, and prepare nature for decay, decomposition and renewal.”
Provide a sign so they may be conscious and aware of the need to depart from Earth, preparing themselves accordingly.
Father Time regarded them solemnly as he observed Earth’s anguish. He assured them he would ponder a solution and, for the first time, ventured from his cave into the depths of the forest. There, he discovered a venerable Banyan tree, seemingly eternal in its presence. Its ancient roots spanned the expanse of heaven and earth, reaching to the far corners of the world. Nestling between the roots, Father Time entered into deep meditation, his eyes closed in profound concentration as the seasons transitioned from summer to autumn and onwards to winter.
One fateful morning, as the sun cast its gentle light upon the world and Father Time roused from his meditation, the solution had crystallised within his mind.
Father Time presented his solution, and the elements collaborated to bestow wrinkles upon humanity. Skin began to tighten, teeth began to loosen, and people bowed under the weight of advancing years. Father Time worked on the roots of trees, causing decay, and prompted flowers to wilt and fall while also imbuing birds and beasts with the passage of time. Together, Father Time and the elements birthed the concept of Time itself. Having never been an active participant in the affairs of the world before, Father Time now played a pivotal role in the unfolding of every life on Earth.
Gradually, all creatures aged. Flowers lost their vibrancy and scent, fruits ripened and decayed, and humans became attuned to the signs of ageing, such as greying hair.
Some lamented, “What has befallen us? Where is our vitality, our youth?” Seeking answers, they sought out Father Time in his cave.
“You are to blame for this! Where are our yesterdays? Where is our youth? You have robbed us of them,” they accused, their numbers swelling as anger grew.
Unable to face their accusations, Father Time fled his cave and stood at the edge of the earth, overlooking a precipice, his hands covering his face in anguish. Witnessing his agony, Earth cried out, unable to bear the burden.
“Do something, Father Time! Relieve me of this weight!” she pleaded.
Reluctantly, Father Time removed his hands and set the world back in motion. As predicted, people pursued him relentlessly, and he remained in perpetual flight, never resting.
Since that time, the clock, Time’s symbolic representation, bears two or three hands on its face, signifying the burden Time carries and its relentless march forward. It serves as a reminder that Time waits for no one, urging us to seize the present moment and act without delay.
Excerpted with permission from ‘Why Does the Clock Cover His Face?’ in How and Why Tales, Geeta Ramanujam, Puffin India.
