Napier Fields

The monsoon poured heavily on the transparent glass, but I couldn’t hear the slightest drop of rain. Across the distant runway, I saw the fields of napier grass stretching towards the runway but failing to grasp it. The cracks on the track caused by the sun’s heat no longer gave care for napier roots; they grew so avidly and struggled to find those cracks again. The napier grass -in its isolation- seemed to be waiting for its looming return. There was a familiar bland voice in the speakers announcing a delay as if time only affected the speaker and not the flight itself. People were rushing around with their rocking suitcases whilst time chased them from behind. My parents ambled slowly behind me, picking up and soothing the tiniest remnants of my existence that have abandoned me over this void. An intense fire was building in my chest and was beginning to spread itself throughout my body: a succession to change the young curiosity into the expelled knowledge. In front of the gate, I saw a little child floating towards her mother like a spore finding its fertile soil. There it will grow but soon this substance will suppress its relationship with no remorse, no sympathy, and no care. No matter how much rain falls, I realize that this inevitable isolation cannot be washed away. I was playing a game with time, but the rules were always against me. But the power of time will not emerge till its true nature has been witnessed. The sounds of the busy gate suddenly stopped, but I could still hear the whispers of the past stemming from my deteriorating presence. They called me as if the Jibreel called Muhammad; I looked back at them and only saw a revelation. The final piece taken away without my allowance, my say, or my blessing. Time has beaten me, but I still ponder of the soothing feeling of reaching the runway again. For now, I have to leave that mere thought for the rest of eternity.