I guess each of us would be comfortable in the age that we are born, after all we take birth at a point, our growth occurs in that environment we take adapt, ourselves or adapt the environment to suit us.
The past helps us to appreciate the ideas and values of our own age, are just as provisional and transient as those of the bygone ages. The intelligent and reflective engagement with the thought of a bygone era ultimately subvert any notion of chronological snobbery. When you read a text from the past it makes it very clear what we now term the past was once the present. Something that proudly yet falsely regarded itself as having found the right intellectual answers and moral values that eluded its predecessors and will be the unchangeable truth for its future.
Like Milan Kundera says there is a part of all us that lives outside of time. Perhaps we become aware of our age only at exceptional moments and most of the times we ageless.
I was thirteen when I first met Sherlock Holmes, thirteen years old, my nose still in my book was travelling through the 19th century and early 20th century England. Today I live in the Rosabel line a zone in Kashmir, in my current age is a man, who comes from the land of the Yahudi’s he is known as Yeshu of the Yahudi’s maybe you know him as Jesus the Jew.
Whether I like it or not, whether I accept it or not my images of what various historical periods feel, smell or sound like were acquired well before I set foot into any history class. They came from my amar chitrakatha, my Walter Scott and a host of other authors, in plastic protected paperbacks. Immaterial of whether the historians accept or not, scholarly history’s illegitimate cousin, the historical novel, plays a great role in shaping the widely held concepts of historical realities.
Tomorrow I shall time travel to another era, like Kahlil Gibran put it, the timeless in you is aware of the life’s timelessness. And Knows that yester is but today’s memory and tomorrow is today’s dream.