If Walls Could Talk

I've been here for as long as I can remember. I've seen the world change around me, but I've remained the same. I'm just a wall, after all. But if walls could talk, oh the stories I could tell.

I remember when this building was first constructed. I was just a brick then, one of many, but I was proud to be part of this structure. I watched as the workers painstakingly laid each brick, building me up higher and higher. When they finished, I was just a blank slate, waiting to be adorned with memories.

And then the people came. They brought their lives with them, and I watched as they made this place their own. Some were happy, some were sad. Some were angry. But they all left a little piece of themselves with me.

The first family to live here was a young couple. They were so in love, and they filled me with their joy. I listened as they planned their future, dreaming of a family and a home filled with laughter. And then, one day, they were gone. They moved away, leaving me behind.

After that, there were others. Some stayed for just a short while, while others made this place their home for many years. They fought, they made up, they celebrated, and they mourned. And through it all, I watched and listened.

There was one family, in particular, that I will never forget. They were a family of four, with two little boys who were always running and jumping and playing. They loved each other fiercely, and they filled me with their happiness. But then, tragedy struck. The father was killed in a car accident, and I watched as the family fell apart. The mother was inconsolable, and the boys were lost without their dad. But over time, they began to heal. They leaned on each other, and they found their way forward. And through it all, I was there, a silent witness to their pain and their strength.

Years passed, and people came and went. But I remained, a constant presence in their lives. I saw the world change around me, and I felt the weight of history on my bricks. I watched as this building became a part of the fabric of the city, and I saw the people who lived here become a part of the community.

And then, one day, something strange happened. A man came in and started tearing me apart, brick by brick. I was terrified, and I screamed out, but no one heard me. I watched as the man destroyed me, and I felt myself slipping away.

But then, something miraculous happened. The man stopped, and he looked at me. And he heard my voice. He realized that I was more than just a wall, more than just a thing to be destroyed. I was a witness to history, a part of the fabric of this place.

And so he stopped, and he started to rebuild me. He filled in the gaps, and he restored me to my former glory. And as he worked, he listened to my stories. He heard the voices of the people who had lived here before, and he felt the weight of their memories.

And so I remain, a wall that can talk. I'm a part of this building, a part of this community, and a part of the history of this place. If walls could talk, oh the stories I could tell. And now, thanks to that man, I can.

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Bhagavathilakshmi