The Clock

The Clock

A Short Story in Malayalam by Dr. Prabha Gopala Pilla Head of the department, Department of Oriental languages Loyola College, Chennai (Directly translated from Malayalam: Vaiyavan)

'In all my nights like these, on which one am I going to cease? Or my death… would it come by any day time?'Sethuraman asked himself looking at the clock which got nettled at 12'O clock..

'What if it is day or night? They would be waiting for me. But do they know that I am also seeking them?

No. No chance of knowing. They may not know.

Sethuraman found out answer for his question himself; and became calm. Again he looked at the clock, to know what the time was.

But the clock went dead. Its death would have occurred definitely on one twelve O' clock; it's clear. The reason was one of its hands, the shorter, had gone invisible. It would have got hidden behind the longer hand .Unless where could that slave of the time run out of the glass barrier After reaching twelve O'clock the shorter and the longer hands stayed still losing movements.

No sign of trembling too. That table clock was a decoration for Sethuraman 's room. How could it be possible for both the long hand's and short hand's pulses stopped together at twelve O'clock? Perhaps it is which led to the untimely death of the clock.

Foolishness. Utter foolishness.

Sethuraman blamed himself. How one hand of the clock alone can live? It is impossible to live for the minute hand when the hour hand dies. If it dies so then it is unfeasible.

Minute hand and hour hand stood together unifiedly , doing Ahudhi ,like loving couple there. Sethuraman's mind threw it off after naming it as an harmonic death of souls on the heightening bed of carcass in the cremation ground of Shastras.

Then something stirred from his inner mind. He stopped walking within the room. Got down to the verandah. He looked around sharply like observing for something. Darkish night. Nothing was visible. The sound of crickets was so shrill like sawing his ears. Stars flickered here and there around the sky. And got burnt out here and there.

Why did Sethuraman went away?

He wanted to know time. What would be the time now? With whom should he enquire? With the darkness touching his nose or from the dead clock with hidden hand?

Sethuraman stayed in the verandah for a long time. Finally he guessed it would be two or two and half an hour after twelve O' clock. It doesn't matter if the guess goes incorrect. A long time passed after the end of the midnight.

Sethuraman entered the room. Switched on the light. The clock was on the table like a decoration for the room as the carcass of time informing about the still undead time. He sat straaight opposite the clock.

Some time passed, another doubt arose within him; whether the clock's death was just two and two and half an hour before twelve O' clock of that day's night? Sethuraman had a self condemning laughter over his doubt. And he laughed once again.

Fool. Bloody fool. How can we conclude of when did the clock die?

Did the denoting twelve O'clock belong to the night or to the day? If so when the death did occur on which day or which night? He had a head ache.

Isn't it twenty four hours for one day? But only twelve numbers are found in the clock. That too was depicted in the sequence of one …two …and three. , but as twelve , three, six and nine in an un understandable way. .Between them there were straight lines dividedly showing the hour and minutes. Do they,all of them belong to the day or to the night?

Sethuraman caught into the trap of thought. After passing some time he laughed aloud. Again a jeering laughter, the self condemning laughter.

Who else doesn’t know that these twelves belong both to night and day? But when did that clock die on a twelfth hour day or a twelfth hour of a night? Sethuraman lost his sleep in search of day and night of the twelfth hour like searching the inner and outer meaning of life.

He got no answer at all. Some how the clock shrunk between twelve got him shrunk along Which day was the clock's death day? How to confirm it?

Do the clock doctors have the talent to check it up? If they don't have, or any body else have? Sethuraman did not have the peace of mind. His head went reeling. Sat looking at the white face of the dead clock, he lost his sleep. Would the clock know of his sleeplessness? . Then he permanently lost the sleep. He could not sleep at all.

He remained there as a companion of the dead clock. He thought only of the dead hours and days between the days and nights. Finally he travelled back to find out the twelfth hour when the death of the clock occurred. Sethuraman followed the time's route of the lengthy travel of hour and minute hands where one twelfth hour went fizzled out. He went a long distance, for a long time.

Then he had forgotten even his everlasting enquiry regarding the day and night of his death. He had never come across that twelfth hour of the dead clock. Yet Sethuraman kept on running behind it with grey hair and wrinkles.

Finally over the journey of searching the death of time, Sethuraman got buried beneath the time. Unknown to anyone. He too became as whitish and unwavering as the table clock. Did it occur too on twelfth hour? On the night? Or on the day?

It happened on a minute of an owner- less hour. In due course he got deceased. Went stinking. The bones of Sethuraman who witnessed the death of time turned into smoke on the cremation ground.

Yet the clock of Sethuraman who searched for the time of its death did not decease. The hands of the clock began moving again with the power of momentum offered by the Time. . The both hands which were never died either on days or nights kept on moving in search of the end of time