Living1

Living on the Edge of Time

At present, all the computers in the world put together could not achieve such a feat. The race was on, in academic circles. The first to achieve such a goal would be the Father of Computing in the 21st Century. A landmark name in the history of modern man, a landmark figure in the history of the world, not to mention the accolades, the professorial titles, the honorary lectureship circuits of prestigious universities and the patents and financial spin offs from multinational companies.

Bala flet very sick inside. He had had a reasonably wonderful life. He remembered his friends, the good times they shared, the sorrows they had. The partying all night in his undergraduate days. The sunrises, the sunsets, the new years, the festivals. the hours spent journey on holidays. His breakfast this morning at the teh-tarik stall. He vividly rembered his grandfathers's last words. They were good memories. But they were memories. Was if for real? Did it really happen?

Bala looked at his watch again. The seconds ticked away. He remembered the position before that and the position before the previous position and the position before that. They were memories.

He took out a piece of paper and wrote "At 4:30 pm this afternoon I wrote this note to record that I existed at 4:30 this afternoon." He put down his pen and read the note. It was the only evidence that he had existed at 4:30 that afternoon. His past did not exist anymore. It was gone ... it did not exist. The memory of his existence at 4:30 that afternoon remained - and that note. This note would be with him into the future. But the future did not exist either. A future that had not been created.

Bala wondered "The past did not exist, the future did not exist." It was the nth time he had pondered upon this paradox. The past did not exist and the future had not been created. "What really did exist?". "Now?" Where was Now? Now was always a memory. Now was this instant in time. This very instant. Now was quickly becoming the skin of the teeth of time. Too thin to be real. Too thin to be comprehensible. Too thin to exist. "When was now?" he wondered. "Today? This afternoon? 4:30pm was long gone. It was a memory. Time was a memory." He could not come to terms with the reality that NOW did not exist. Now was the border between the past and the future. A past that did not exist and a future that had not been created. And NOW was that infinitesimally thin border between the past and the future.

Was it a second? Was it a microsecond - no that was too long a period. Was it a nanosecond? No, that was still too long. Was it a millionth of a millionth of a millionth of a second? No, time passed in that interval of time too. We were living on the edge of time. An edge so thin that it did not exist in reality.