Perhaps I am a fool to believe in signs. To assume the sight of a white butterfly means I’m being missed. To see ordinary coincidences as something more, something with purpose. Nevertheless, it is this foolishness that lends informal philosophy to my every day.
My reliable watch has done something entirely backwards and after a day of overcoming this betrayal, I now look into the matter to extract a higher meaning.
My brother gave me this watch as a rakhi present in exchange for a thread around his wrist and a promise. And today this dear, sentimental possession has extraordinarily decided to let the number 6 go off to pursue his interests. The number 6 subsequently took his self and transformed into a 9, on the glass. Leaving a shadow of his former self behind and fulfilling his destiny to move up in the numerical hierarchy.
Oh little 6, what have you done?
Clearly, 6’s destiny is tied up in my own. His short but momentous journey is a wakeup call. The 24 hours of my day are structured, scheduled and largely spent worrying about the lack of time and the surplus of things to be done. Rushed. Hurried. Fast forwarded life.
Enter: ‘6 to 9’ serving as the proverbial ‘flower to be sniffed along the way’; essentially, a reminder to smile at life. To pause and see the life in the minute. To stop worrying about what time it is and to focus more on what is happening in time.
That, or, August 28th is coming up and maybe someone should do some shopping in exchange for a ladoo.
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