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It had a dark caramel colour, a very fine edge separating it from the glistening white, placed adjacent to it. It appeared to be smooth, light yet strong, and well made. The brown sugar left the shining silver spoon like fine sand escaping from between the fingers. The sugar hit the surface of the foam lingering on its brim, submerged ever so slightly. The crystals floated over my cup of Piccolo for seconds that accounted for a minute then surrendered to dissolution.

I gently placed the wrapper of the chocolate on the tiny white saucer as I picked my cup from it. The serenity of whatever had transpired up until I took my first long anticipated sip was in fact disrupted by that very first sip. The coffee, Piccolo having been prepared from a Ristretto along with 100ml of milk was perfectly bitter and well balanced. It was indeed a necessity after the long week I had subjected myself to. Unfortunately, the error was in my judgement for I had miscalculated the temperature of my coffee taking a sip too soon.

Amidst the sharp pain of burning my tongue, I heard a voice. It was soft and reassuring. The voice wasn’t meant for me, yet its proximity made its audibility unavoidable. The voice however soothing and calm was rather busy for from what I could gather it was occupied in two conversations. It was trying to place an elaborate order of an almond milk latte with the exact details of how well roasted the beans should be and the exact proportion of milk and water, all the while informing a certain someone on her handheld that she would be reaching in 15 minutes.

15 minutes, it took for the café to generate the lady’s order, the very 15 minutes that she was to spend travelling for a predetermined meeting. She reassured the very same someone on her handheld that she was on her way as she leisurely sipped her concoction.

Time wasn’t created by man. The way to perceive it was. Its passage inevitable and yet we humans had created an illusion. We have perhaps convinced ourselves that the inevitable is evitable. The fact that I had decided that it had been long enough for my coffee to have cooled down just the right amount, didn’t make it necessarily cool down. It was simply an assumption based on my perception of the time that had passed. Her claim of reaching in 15 minutes was an understatement my claim of it taking 15 minutes to prepare her beverage was maybe an overstatement. The same amount of time perceived differently.

As the effects of the high bout of caffeine faded away, I found myself walking through a street market, a bazaar. It wasn’t a place I would necessarily enjoy at any given time and yet there I was at that very instant. Walking through the market, I experienced a feeling of being powerless. I was in a state of a serious lack of control. My direction decided by the location of my home at that point of time, my trajectory and pace decided by the trajectory and pace of the crowd. Time was passing by, I could tell as somewhere deep within my watch a tiny crystal of quartz was vibrating as it always did and that someone had taught me the skill of reading that watch; however I was still aimlessly walking through the market, seconds transformed into minutes, my aimless walk however refused to transform. I knew for me, time was passing by but was time changing.

We humans know that tomorrow comes along when 24 of what we call hours pass by. We anticipate rather hope that these 24 hours with their passage bring a certain change. We convince ourselves that every next day would be different. We promise to live better tomorrow. It seems strange how with the change of a mere number on the calendar one would drastically alter their way of life, and if one is truly capable of that change then why wait for that number.

We humans striving for control have stripped time down to milli, micro, nanoseconds. The lust for authority allowing us to dictate what time it is at a particular instant even though we don’t even fully understand this 4th dimension. It is indeed vanity to mistake this for control.

My chain of thought was broken as I saw a familiar face. I could see the same lady sitting in a cab parked at a red light. She was again on her handheld perhaps still reassuring someone that she was 15 minutes away. 

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