Enough Time?

"The earth revolves around the sun in about 365 days. One day has 24 hours in it, an hour has 60 minutes in it, and a minute has 60 seconds in it. The physical concept of time has been quantified and sealed. Defining a second in terms of the movement of the planet around the solar power does seem to be the best way, or is it?

'Time flies', as they say, depends on the circumstantial moments. Reiterating a known cliche, a minute with your lover is not the same minute over a lit gas stove; banging on the same nail, would it be correct to say that after 30 years of being with a person, one can remain elusive, and spending a moment with another could reveal soul facts.

The qualitative measure of time is developed within a person in a myriad of ways, and is different for each person. 20 years could be a long time for a teenager to have spent with his or her parents, 20 years could be a moment's glance for a happily married couple. Circumstantial evidence would be much needed to quantify time qualitatively.

If you do not know what is going to happen tomorrow, is there any point in thinking about it? In the present book that I am reading, 'Life of Pi', there is a brief mention about how death is jealous of life and hence sticks very close to it. The inevitable finality is eternal, and that fact cannot be argued against. Death causes physical separation, but that does not deter one from loving another, getting involved with another, and being together. Should it be considered to be a risk? Must one accept the risk of separation and hope for the best? Or should one think a day ahead in life and do what's best for tomorrow instead of today?

Can we compare death of a partner to a divorce or to distancing; they are all separation in their own ways. They all lead to something that cannot be be called as 'joy', except that the latters could be worse, if a despicable view is taken into consideration. Must not we enjoy the fact that the person is alive and is in a position to counter react, rather than think about the day when he or she is not going to be there. Must we not love the fact that he/she is right there in front of us, rather than think about sustenance in absence.

The temptation to shield oneself from the unforeseen future in anticipation is quite a difficult one to resist. Nobody likes to be hurt or suffer intentionally. Is it justified to react defensively in lieu of taking risks or treading on invisible steps, and masking it as a precautionary measure?

Is prevention really the cure?