During some of the most introspective and contemplative moments of my life, Pink Floyd was always an inseparable companion. Not so long ago, I remember sitting on a beach, mesmerized by the infinite motion of the waves, trying to see what lay beyond that inscrutable horizon we call the future. I was listening to “Time” and each word felt like a searing whiplash on my back. It was then that I decided that the time had finally come to set forth and discover new lands.
Tonight, I listened to the same song being performed live by David Gilmour, my favorite virtuoso guitarist. He is playing a series of concerts at the Royal Albert Hall for his newly released solo album “Rattle that Lock”. Thankfully, he also played many of the Pink Floyd Classics such as Shine on Your Crazy Diamond, Money, Wish You Were Here, Comfortably Numb, just to cite a few.
Watching the show seating in extremely close proximity to Gilmour was one of those experiences I desperately wished to capture, encapsulate and relive again in the future, however fruitless this task may be. In the end, I can still feel the grains of sand escaping from between my fingers as I clenched my fist on that beach. And this is the ultimate lesson about time. It makes the richest man in the world a pauper. You can’t store it. You can’t borrow it. You can’t lend it. You can’t buy it back. You can only use it wisely, wisely indeed.