Slow Adventure

I don’t know the background of this place. I don’t know what its requirement was. I don’t know what this place means to the people who had used it.

To me its comfort and liberty.

A place where time isn’t a constraint, its not racing with you, where my thoughts keep echoing yet my freedom of thought is not curbed because the echoes can only be heard by the thousands of pigeons who have proved their loyalty to this place of bricks and stones by returning here every time they leave. An unconditional and unselfish love because the waters have dried and this place has nothing tangible to offer them. I don’t know why they come back here, maybe because they can lead a peaceful life here, rejoice to the sounds of the bats(clinging to the inside walls of the gumbad) -the music they make. The same reason why to this place I make a promise of coming back again and again.

My love is not unconditional or unselfish. This place provides me with the time and silence, a combination that is hard to find. Time to count my blessings, cry for all the things I have lost, make new goals, remember old times and smile foolishly unconscious about the crazy world outside. Silence to hear the things that matter, the things that have been unheard, to hear clearly that my faith is still not defeated.

This monument lost in the panic of the city is where I find myself.