I have been here just four days but already I have lost track of
time. If I were to return to Calcutta immediately I feel I should find
much of it transformed.

It is as if I am now standing in a place outside the current of time,
unconscious of the gradually altering set of the world. The fact is
that here, away from Calcutta in my inner world, time may be stretched
or compressed  and clocks do not work in the usual way. Duration is
measured by intensity of feeling; the emotions of the moment seem
endless. Where the outside world with its flow of incident is not
constantly employed in checking on my daily activities, moments become
hours and hours moments, as in a dream. And then it seems to me that
the subdivisions of time and space are figments of my mind. Each atom
is immeasurable and each moment infinite.