Time is not a straight line. Time is a curve, a manifold, a serpentine.
I wonder: when we displace ourselves in space, is the structure of time changed for us as well? If space contracts along the vector of travel, time collapsing as we accelerate, do those of us who travel occupy a subtly different universe, full of hidden serpentines and ways? Have we knit together, and become, from the fabric of our minds, in time some more complicate event, far Delhi wed to London in an instant, and some distant shade of yesterday to some deep echo of tomorrow?