History Lies in Ruins

I have been treading this path for many years now. I go for morning walks in that area because it is so peaceful away from the cacophony of Highway noises. There are woods in which the vegetation has been left to grow unhindered and unbridled. The vines have coiled themselves around the trunks of the thick trees as if to strangulate them and snatch the dominance from them. The ground beneath is strewn with the seams of leaves which have fallen from the trees branches continuously over the years. These have formed a thick mat on the ground. In the morning, sun rays filter through the mist which usually hangs and floats mysteriously between the trees. Although this is a private property of our company but some outsiders seem to ambulate through these woods to make shortcuts as is obvious from the many paths formed inside due to continuous use.

At the one end of the enclosure are building which once were teeming with the people who lived in the quarters here. These building have been abandoned. Even a regular passerby will not give any attention to them. One day, I stared through the abundant growth of grass, bushes and trees and felt as if I have discovered the remains of an unknown civilization.

I was stunned at the condition of homes. There is vegetation everywhere. Walls are covered with permanent discoloration. The windows are corroded and termite has gnawed the wood. Doors and standing like skeletons which it seems will fall apart at the slightest force. There are trees which have grown their branched so long that they have also come down and piled their roots into the soil. It looks as if it is an octopus.

The spiders have spun countless webs to catch their prey which are in abundance here due to woods nearby. The lizards creep on the walls and guard the secret history of events that once unfolded in these houses. In these houses there was happiness, pain and sadness. The women gave birth to babies and at the same time lives were terminated by the Shiva for resuming the cycle of life in some another form. Here in these houses children shouted and played and fought among themselves. There were men who worried about their relatives in the remote villages. Couples has made love and spouses had slept on the same bed with their faces turned away from each other after some fights. In the morning, the womenfolks made the victuals for their husbands and children who went to the offices and schools.

And now it all seems like a dream, a repository of events that took place here some years back. It seems that these houses are very sad because what is house which is not a home. They longed to again redone and be inhabited by the human beings. Or else, they want to be eliminated and be no more. The trees have grown so high that you have to stain your head to look at their canopies and beyond into the blue sky. There are broken playing ladders and swings which have completely rusted. All these seem to be frozen in some point in the space and time.

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