Date: 27.05.2050
I was smeared with the dust of an abandoned entity so
heavily that it formed a permanent layer of melancholy over me. It was easier
for random hands to scribble over me as if I was a canvas to give shape to the
whimsical thoughts and desires of an amateur artist.
My body was still
strong enough to shoulder the burden of hands that would rest vigorously over
me, to be the instrument to dole out
beats to the songs that were hummed on a cold January evening, to be
resistant against the accidental spill of the tea on a monsoon evening that
erupted from the mixed humour of the reunion party, to be a part of the date
that connected two souls for the first time.
Today, I sit in a museum and wander why the people of
this digital world regard me as an archeological wonder or is it the illusion
of of your virtual imagination?
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