To
Those who are around,
& Those who aren’t.
Decades have passed, you know! The building block of eternity. Block by block, gentle flips of calendar-revealing blasphemous nature of time. Time. Even gods can not control it. And when they do, cruellest of curses has befallen them.
In decades, the cities transform, generations emerge. The young become middle-aged—grumpier, less certain, less exuberant. The middle-aged drift into old age—rickety, frail, fragile. And toddlers spill into adolescence- carrying dreams, revolts and embraces they do not understand.
Decades uncover departures that seemed unfathomable- quietly communing every era that left trailing behind. Left trailing behind: people, memories, places, moments, festivals, journeys—like sand slowly escaping a clenched fist, breath by breath.
The Music! Eternal. The stubbornness of melodies to be unfazed by the transience. Unhinged. Unperturbed. The sole authority to preserve fragrance of bygones.
And Poems? Stamped across dates, scattered across calendars. Like prime numbers—uneven, unpredictable, indivisible. The revealed thoughts that concealed agonies.
All like yesterday. All like yesterday. Yesterday I wrote them. Yesterday the decades passed. Tomorrow, the decades will pass again…
~T T “Papermate“~
Papermate is just another face in the maddening crowd.
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