I’ve visited sites of historic importance before. I’ve seen the people and their houses. I’ve tasted the food and nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. I suppose it shows you how temporary life really is.

I’ve often heard them say,”Let the dead Past bury its dead”. No. I refuse to accept that we can’t go back in time, even for just one second.

Catching a flourish of robes while walking through the Mysore Palace. Hearing soldiers march in the Golconda Fort. Watching Obavva kill hundreds of soldiers with a stick. I’ve seen the Mahabharata happen before my eyes. I’ve killed thousands of demons with Rama. I’ve seen the Constitution of India being signed.

I’ve seen myself learning to walk.

I’ve seen the fabric of time be taken apart and put back together again. It doesn’t matter how – stories, memories, music, lessons.

But the sands of time continue to fall because we can never turn back the hourglass though we may wish to relive a happy moment or see something for the first time again.

The hands of the clock will keep spinning till we ourselves become history.

Just another frozen moment in time.
Another footprint among countless others.
Another broken piece.

Or maybe like a cool breeze on a hot summer night.
Or like a peaceful mind in an ocean of chaos.