Noon.

A house stands in the midst of a town. People walk past its black gates, paying no attention whatsoever to this old building which once gave shelter to a family.

The rusty black gates crackle, as if unwilling to open, unwilling to let a stranger in. The front yard’s overgrown. There are no fresh flowers; only dead plants. As dead as the house itself. Seems forgotten. The verandah is as dull as the garden. Sunlight falls on it, only in patches. A beaten down chair sits on the right – the kind that you would expect your grandfather to sit on and sip tea at 5 in the morning, when the rest of the house is fast asleep.

Inside the Mansion, the Drawing Room gets to be the first one. The once-welcoming walls are now devoid of all paint, and provide a home to spiders. Signs of life. Spider life. A swift glance to the left, and a poster shows itself. A poster of a garden. Full of flowers. Once Vibrant. Full of life. Presently – dead.

Then there’s the hall, and of course, the open space. The Kitchen’s there, too. But there are webs in front of the entrance. The Spider Life seems to be possessive about their place. A step into the sunlit verandah, and the tears threaten to fall. Thoughts. About everything – the festivals, the starry nights, the stupid stories, Mami’s cooking, the numerous cousins, the life. Old memories rush in.

And here I stand, in the old house and take a look around. The Last Glance. At the rooms, the walls, the ceiling and everything that’s left. And then, it was as if the house feels. It felt me standing there, felt the nature of my visit. The Last Visit. And now, on the floor, lies a family picture. All of us. Well and alive. With the verandah in the background. Alive, too. And there. I have my souvenir, now. Been quite a journey.

I walk through the rusty black gates once again, they don’t crackle. I am not a stranger anymore. Instead, it seems as if they are waving goodbye. The Last Goodbye.

—-

Evening.

“Who cares, ’twas too old anyway’, says the man operating the crane. Click, aim, swing and a sharp hit. The walls are gone. And there’s rubble. There’s nothing now, the house is finally gone, the Spider Life, too. It gives way for a new building. A new life.