The City

There is something very evocative about this picture. For some reason I spent the last three-odd hours sifting through countless pictures of cities, some from mine, the rest of various other cities. Skyscrapers and people alike taking the centre-stage of this picture. Dark silhouettes of beings walking the street, identifiable faceless beings fill this picture very nicely. Beings like you and I. The young and the old; the employed and the jobless; the rich and the poor; the cool and the uncool; the men and the women; the student and the graduate; the lovers and the lonely; the happy and the heartbroken; the beautiful and the ugly; and the hopeful and the hopeless. We are one, yet, separate. To be part of the crowd, yet, each one of us walking the concrete ground, laughing, crying, or just worrying over anxieties in our lives. The city is a paradox… whole in all its glory, yet, utterly isolated in that same glory. The skyscrapers take the background. Blurred and unfocused, it takes the comfortable backseat. Modern manifestations of its era, they tell a tale of times gone by, yet, saving their future for the generations that will walk these same streets. Time, the devourer of all things, do us a favour and please, slow down.

Concrete slabs and blocks laid amongst bricks and cement, we have laid the foundations of the present and the mysterious future of generations to come, with this they hold a secret, the hushed whispers of a tale of what goes on behind closed doors, in the heart of the city. Timeless words, they are.

 

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