If buildings could talk, what would they say?
What stories have they been witness to over the ages?
These old windows would have looked out on a landscape that’s changed radically since the day they were built.
Gone are the quiet, tree-lined streets with wide roads,
Where the rich sahibs would ride in their horse-drawn carriages,
Or the “white devils” would drive by in their new car.
Only to be replaced with traffic and pollution in a city that never sleeps.
What stories would these walls have been witness to?
Stories of children who grew into adults with children of their own, and then grew old and died.
Did these walls cry at their passing?
Or cringe at their duplicitous lives?
These old walls would have valiantly protected its inhabitants during the tumultuous partition,
And yet, they would have been witness to the bloodshed and hatred that colored the streets red.
That wouldn’t have been the end of the carnage these old walls were witness to.
For there have followed numerous riots and terror attacks.
Would these old walls have wept to see still more bloodshed?
Would they have longed to call a halt to the senseless violence?
Or were they just silent sentinels to the passage of time?
If these old buildings could talk,
What stories would they tell us?
Photograph taken at Colaba, Mumbai.