Time for a Story

My father has many watches, clocks in the wall. They mark time, it's their job. But I never understand for what. One day I noticed that a story may be inside the time they marked. A life story. And, suddenly, these watches had a purpose. I suggested my father to sell all of them to finance a trip for us both to Kumba Mehla, India 2013, the biggest spiritual festival of the world. My father laughed. I was too provoking, despite being serious. Now I understand I was too disrespecting, for we cannot simply through away something with a life inside it. We must, before that, tell its story. When the story arrives to its end, we don't have to through away anything, for the story would have come to its flying purpose, endlessly. I present you my father, who has been all his life a great storyteller, to tell us the life of time in his watches, that we shall sell one at a time, until is time for India.

namaste

bharati