Whenever i walk past the condo being built, I see the new road, so gentle, so wide, the asphalt so much darker in colouration than the previous one. I smell the choking cloud of conorete dust, and think of the days when i could breathe fresh air from the grassy plain, and pay my silent respects in reverence to the giant banyan tree under it's shade. I stop for a few seconds, closing my eyes and imagining what used to be. My logical self accepts that all that has gone, but yet my heart still aches, still yearns for the past, still shedding silent tears as i recall how much i didn't treasure it...
First came metal barriers; then small trees were cut down, and the place surrounded with impregnable opaque fences that obsured my vision, that didn't allow me to witness the fall of the banyan tree; then the heavy machinery came and dug out a huge, gaping pit in the grassy plain... Slowly, but surely, i cannot recognise the place anymore.
Deja Vu.
The same thing is happening to the estate i am living in.
Soon the huge variety of plants will be uprooted and tossed aside.
The showflat will be erected.
And then my family will move away.
Slowly but surely, my memories will fade.
I won't remember what used to be anymore.
And then, when all have forgotten what this plot of land used to be like, it would have truly died.
Age and time.
They increase with each passing day.
Both a boost.
Conferring experience to people
And yet a poison.
Erasing the distant cobwebs of memories.
Change can be such a brutal experience.
First came metal barriers; then small trees were cut down, and the place surrounded with impregnable opaque fences that obsured my vision, that didn't allow me to witness the fall of the banyan tree; then the heavy machinery came and dug out a huge, gaping pit in the grassy plain... Slowly, but surely, i cannot recognise the place anymore.
Deja Vu.
The same thing is happening to the estate i am living in.
Soon the huge variety of plants will be uprooted and tossed aside.
The showflat will be erected.
And then my family will move away.
Slowly but surely, my memories will fade.
I won't remember what used to be anymore.
And then, when all have forgotten what this plot of land used to be like, it would have truly died.
Age and time.
They increase with each passing day.
Both a boost.
Conferring experience to people
And yet a poison.
Erasing the distant cobwebs of memories.
Change can be such a brutal experience.
No comments:
Post a Comment