In the olden times, Saturn was considered one of the most active divinities associated with agriculture and a cult was even founded ascribing to him as a guardian god. His influence led to the principles of civilization thereby shedding older, wild and barbarian customs.
Later as Greek mythology was Romanized, Saturn became known as Cronus (the term “chronology” came from this). And subsequently, he took the role of the god of time. Further on, immediately after the Middle Ages, he was associated with a gloomy character. Eventually, a planet known as the most arid and slowest was named after him. Thereupon, he came to personify old age, poverty and death. In the astrological imagination, Saturn was associated with unfavorable situations.
I do not wish, although to a certain extent, I could see Saturn criss-crossed on my palm. I began to contemplate.
Once upon a time, I was a bubbly youth, almost spoiled by the mother although resources never allowed it. My father was the sole breadwinner and it was his hand that literally guided every one of us. It was his strength that we depended on much for our struggle. While my father worked hard, a bureaucrat by day and an academician at night (much like philosophers Emanuel Kant and Francis Bacon before) I never had a chance to pretend to be middle class juvenile although all my friends in the neighborhood swore that they were a cut above the rest of the struggling proletarian population.
My youth days were memorable because I was realistically grounded, knowing where I was, compared with my peers who lived and thought based on their delusions. Vices made them more hooked on their beliefs. In my case, I coasted along on what was obtaining in the here and now.
Years followed and I have witnessed how age caught up with my parents. From an active almost athletic schedule my parents pursued up until sickness would slow them down. From a smooth silky complexion my elders would project up until that day when I could feel the wrinkles envelop their facial expression, including the limb which they would use in coddling me during my toddler years.
I have had my share of youthful vibrancy until I would likewise reached that stage when I could also feel and see on the mirror the wrinkles which time battered on my body. At almost a decade past the golden year, I could see my strength reduced almost to a half. I could barely walk a mile while before I could play an endless game of basketball from dusk to dawn. I could stay awake all night driving thousands of kilometers and appreciate every locality I would pass through without fatigue and exhaustion. Now a trip to the nearby marketplace is a lethargic proposition already.
While it can be said that 60 is the new 40, while preservation of youthful looks may be encouraged through various means, vitamins, lifestyle and food, unlike where there was a dearth of these in the past, what remains inside the body is almost the same with that of the ancestors. The equalizer remains with the environment. Miracle tablets cannot over rule the influx of stress which at present brings forth multitude of irreversible ailments from viral diseases to the big C. Science just could not cope up with the speed of maladies encroaching all over the world.
And it has tremendous effect not only the looks department but also on the life span of the human beings. Eternal youth and immortality could no longer be captured except in fictional form like novels and movies. Religious philosophies and spiritual rites on longevity of life would fail in the face of environmental challenges.
Ageing says modern science is not natural but a form of disease. Man, says the new scientific doctrine, is never designed to wither unlike other creatures on the planet. Man can live up to an infinite time until through negligence he forgets to stay attune with his natural universe. Man’s mind indeed is his passport to eternity.
And on top of this, the password is moderation.