Time is an active agent in Midnight's Children, with consciousness and movement—not a constant but almost a living thing in and of itself. Saleem uses time, personified, as a means of exerting control over the narrative (or, at the very least, claiming control over what he views as the dissemination of truth/reality).
In the following passage, Aadam Aziz pauses before he enters his future father-in-law's house in Kashmir. Time itself, seemingly capable of conscious discernment and able to sense the importance of this moment, slows down to "concentrate":
My grandfather does not trouble to explain that a stethoscope is more like a pair of ears than a nose. He is stifling his own irritation, the resentful anger of a cast-off child; and besides, there is a patient waiting. Time settles down and concentrates on the importance of the moment.
In many other stories, the personification of time would feature as little more than a figure of speech. But in Midnight's Children, it's possible that time actually does have agency over the story, given both magical realism and Rushdie's meta-narrative stylistic choices. Saleem has a personal relationship with time, both due to the fantastical circumstances surrounding his birth and also due to the fact that he maintains ultimate control over the temporal space of the narrative. It is this intimate relationship between narrator, narrative, and the elements of fantasy that imbue time itself with such character and agency in the novel.
In Book 1, Section 3—Hit-the-Spittoon, Saleem describes a spittoon that has been upended in the street by British military commander Brigadier Dodson. This seemingly innocuous upending of the spittoon is accorded great symbolic meaning, however briefly. Saleem utilizes both personification and simile to meditate on the spittoon and its narrative significance:
A dark red fluid with clots in it like blood congeals like a red hand in the dust of the street and points accusingly at the retreating power of the Raj.
The description of "a dark red fluid with clots in it like blood congeals like a red hand" is a simile, as the red fluid from the spittoon "congeals" like blood. The passage also contains personification, as the "red hand" formed by the blood points accusingly towards the Raj, implicating him in the bloodiness of British colonialism in India.
The simile comparing spittoon liquid to blood can be interpreted in a variety of ways. In addition to forming a bloody hand to implicate the Raj, this spittoon liquid also resembles blood flowing in the street as it might during a violent revolution. Aadam Aziz himself saw firsthand the violence meted out by British imperial soldiers against Indian protestors, whose blood flowed in the streets after the British murdered them. The spittoon liquid calls readers back to this event, reminding them of the sustained violence dealt to Indian people at the hands of the British Empire.
In Book 1, Section 5—A Public Announcement, Saleem describes the layout of Delhi (India's capital territory) under British colonial rule, commenting on the juxtaposition between the structure of the old city and the newly built British edifices of power. As a means of exploring the relationship dynamics between colonizer and colonized, Saleem personifies these buildings, imbuing them with the characteristics of their builders:
You could not see the new city from the old one. In the new city, a race of pink conquerors had built palaces in pink stone; but the houses in the narrow lanes of the old city leaned over, jostled, shuffled, blocked each other’s view of the roseate edifices of power.
Houses and castles behave as their human builders do in this passage. Those built by British colonizers represent their builders physically as well as visually: the palaces they build are large, dominating the landscape with their imposing structures. These palaces are also pink, like the skin of "pink" British "conquerors." The houses in the old city, representing the colonized peoples who occupy them, resist the palaces' dominance over the landscape. They are smaller than the edifices of power, but they exercise their own power in numbers, crowding out the British-built palaces that dominate the landscape.