Imagination is the umbical cord of Consciousness.
Time is mother-tree and it gives birth to unripe fruits as well as ripe fruits.
New born child cries (a biological need).
He is thought; detached, helpless by himself but mother (time) cares for him.
More the imagination soars more the turmoil.
And farther and farther away the answers seems to repel each other.
Time is not ruthless, fearful, ugly demon.
It is neither caring, benevolent and loveable but is pure and detached.
A newly-born and the person dying are both helpless.
They are not attached to anyone either with their mind or body.
Baby when inside the womb is attached with umbical cord for the sustenance.
Born! and the cord is cut.
As the baby becomes conscious of itself; he imagines," that must be my mother".
And the time comes for negative and positive charges to attract each other.
Can we imagine as a new born child that "I am the father or mother of my mother".
Oh, we are travelling back in time!
If newly born child could think so it becomes mere replacement.
He/she can't go back in time!
Illusion is born out of consciousness and imagination sustains it.
Time remains as it is, may be going forward or revolving on its axis.
As I myself am imagining, consciousness is the gas stove,
And there are lots of recipes to be savoured with.
There is no place for errors, falacies or critricism in imagination,
A long as consciousness is made to live on.
Let us invent something new, bereft of imagination and consciousness.
let us go beyond all this.
Imagination is the 'kept' of Consciousness.
Keep moving in the direction of time, pure and detached.