Stumbled upon old records
A flood of memories followed,
Where did they vanish after the office moved?
Failed attempts to restart the office,
Lost in oblivion, I presumed,
But today, thanks to white ants, the hidden place was unveiled.
Records, items, artwork, photos,
All lost to time's relentless flow.
Many dreams left unrealized,
Questions left unanswered,
Piles of papers stacked high,
What to do with these remnants of the past?
In my contemplation, I realize:
Nothing is permanent, nothing holds value in the long run.
At least one person witnessed this phase,
filled with scars.
What worth do these collections, associations, and memories hold?
Merely the rags of a mad person in the end.
Dr. SV Prabhath
Comments