In the dimly lit corridors of Victoria College, Palakkad where the dust motes play in slants of light streaming through high, arched windows, the Latin motto "Labuntur et imputantur" is inscribed above the grand entrance, its letters carved deeply into the weathered stone. It whispers a truth, subtle yet persistent as the tick of a clock in an empty room: "The moments slip away and are laid to your account."
In an enigmatic world, this phrase would unfurl like the slow, deliberate opening of a drawer in an antique desk. Inside, among the scent of old wood and hints of forgotten ink, lies a collection of watches—each stopped at different hours, minutes, and seconds, yet all silently speaking of the same irreversible passage. The students walk these halls, their footsteps echoing softly, not yet understanding how these moments are accruing silently in the ledgers of their lives.
At a small café just off-campus, a retired professor—once a teacher at Victoria—sips his coffee and watches through the steam-blurred windows. He muses over the motto, thinking how life's moments, those seemingly trivial or monumental, slip past like trains in the night. To him, each second is a bead of dew poised delicately on the edge of a leaf, ready to drop and shatter into a thousand tiny mirrors, reflecting not what is but what might have been. And in this quiet reflection, the professor, finds himself lost between the labyrinthine layers of time and memory, each moment etching deeper into his consciousness, each slipping away yet accounted for, as if the universe itself keeps a meticulous record of our passage.
Thus, the motto "Labuntur et imputantur" serves not just as a reminder of the swift passage of time but as an invitation to contemplate what we do with these fleeting seconds. How do we invest them? With whom do we share them? And in the ledger of our lives, what stories will these accounts tell? each answer only leads to more questions, each moment both a loss and a gain—a paradox as enigmatic as time itself.
Comments
Post a Comment