Weekdays don’t seem different from weekends .I wake up and stare at the clock needles,they strike each second but I notice no change in time since the day we have been locked behind the stoned walls . Time has never been ruthless before like it is now. I ask myself:” have we been true to the timings of our lives?” whatever we do is not working out well enough . Days turn to night and brings the next day ahead of us but its effectivity is negligible. my mind wanders and wonders either if it is only me or the clocks deceiving on everyone out there?
I need to rehabilitate the timings by looking back to the things I left incomplete, reviving best of the memories, reconnecting with friends. I collected different Interpretations .Some of them said, We’ve replaced our clock with new one ,and the time is changing quite well .Some of them said oh Wajeeha! tell us what the clock strucks ,we don’t have it anymore. And some of them said we have gone too far from it and the time has changed .
We all are holding different clocks ,different stories in different time at different places . All we need is to connect with each other so that we may rehabilitate our timings. Some will help you to stand tall in the dilating hour and some will need your hand to get up on their feet. We all are the support systems of each other .So reconnect and rehabilitate!
This painting of connected lines depicts the people I have met and the places I been through.