The Speaking Picture

 

It was a sunny and sweaty afternoon with dust floating around the city.

Crossing the road to reach to the bus-stop, I looked right and left and ran to the other side of the road.

The metro construction has turned the roads narrow and buildings of the roadside half open.

The heavy bulldozers were still on their way to break some more houses with the noise and chaos around. Suddenly I saw a picture hanging on a building's first floor's wall.

The building was half broken but the black and white picture of somebody's deceased parents was hanging carelessly with a garland of dry flowers on it.

Whoever was the owner of the building has collected all the important stuff before leaving the house or selling it off to the government.

The government ordered the bulldozers to clean the area for metro construction and the bulldozer man is doing what he was asked for.

I am sure the picture must not be heavy enough to carry it along but still the owner chose to leave it behind.

The smiling faces on the picture clueless about being crushed any time soon.

This is the kind of society we live in these days, where the materials play an important role in everybody's life but feelings and emotions are kept under the carpet.

I left as soon the bus arrived for my destination but the strong impact of the picture did not leave my mind from thinking all through my way.