On space, time, and the past. - A tribute to my victorian days

The mathematical equations describing the relationship of space and time is not understood by many. At best, we know that space consists of 3 dimensions, and time is the 4th. Yet, the very concept of time is abstract and mysterious. We exist in its very fabric, but can't quite comprehend its substance, what it is made of, how it looks like, how does it look from higher dimensions. My greatest guess is this, we can understand 3 dimensions more because we exist in 4 dimensions,we can only truly 'see' time if we exist in the 5th dimension or higher. But I am not going to dwell on the physics of the matter in this post, but rather, to speak of my personal experience of the intricacies of space and time today.

I felt keenly its relationship today when I passed vj and met michelle at parkway parade for lunch. My senses picked up, the things that had change, and the things that had not. The things that endureth gave me a sense of place, the things that had not showed me lucidly, the passage of time. For sure, the vj building and the 24 hours glass panes I glimpsed remained as endearing, like an old faithful friend, but my delight and comfort turn into ambivalence as I gaze carefully at each student decked in vj uniform. None of them looked familiar.

I stepped into the familiar zone, and it seemed like the past did not completely disappear. The buddies laughter, and the big butt's bickering, the starbucks study sessions, and conversations over apollo char kway teow and dim sum lingered like pleasant ghosts of the past, in the bubble tea shop, the curry puff lady by the bus stop, in the treats food court, in macdonalds, at the flag pole in parkway.

The things that had changed reminded me that life had moved on without us. That parkway was in the hands of others, and we are mere visitors.

Once we leave the past, and move on seamlessly into another phase of time, the times of the past get frozen into a sacred shrine, invisible to human eye, but keenly felt in our souls.

I grazed the curtain of that shrine today, and felt the its breeze and breath on my face, ever so gently, and elusively.

The breeze of yesteryears, and the breath of its warm wind.