The Memory of a Forgotten Town

At first sight, it does not appear to have changed much over the years. The air is still as fresh as in years past. The sun continues to rise in the east and set in the west behind the hills. The rain still falls in the summer and the harvest occurs in the fall. The days are as warm as the nights, the same way they have always been. There are occasional cold days, but the inhabitants of the town know that those days will not last. The flora and the fauna have perhaps changed along with the landscape, but those changes are necessary. History continues to walk around the streets, but it cannot maintain the pace with the parade change leads.
The streets have changed. They are not longer filled with mud, they have now been paved with concrete in order to bury the shameful past of poverty outside the doors while it remains very well alive the moment one steps inside the houses. There are many people whom are not recognized because time has changed them beyond recognition or because they are new to those who sometimes return. The schools are not longer filled with children eager to learn though they remain waiting. Waiting they will remain because those children will not come because they have left to never return. Others will return but not to stay and continue their education on those in the past remodeled classrooms that once knew greatness. The children who remain are not enough to fill the classrooms that were once so full that the children did not fit in them. Hence, the remodeling projects from past decades.
The sky remains as blue as anyone can remember. The holidays are still celebrated punctually every year. The routine has not changed, yet those who celebrate them have. They are all guided by a different light and warmed by different sunrays. There are those who have never left and the constant returnees, who make the journey every year to enjoy the holidays on the town in question. There are those others who return once every few years due to different reasons but equally enjoy their time in the forgotten town. The important detail is that somehow they have all managed to remain connected despite distance and time.
The children have now adopted a different age policy. They have formed a non-agreed on council to grow older faster than how they naturally would whereas in the past childhood the most precious treasure anyone could have. Those were the days of joy when there was not any need to worry because the adults took care of every need. Children have now altered the game of life to change their freedoms and obligations for responsibilities that they do not need. Said responsibilities they would most likely regret once they actually understand what they have done because the games have not really changed and the rules remain the same whether renamed or not.
New beliefs walk around the streets; and, as monarchs that have conquered new territories, they strain themselves to gently and slowly but ruthlessly displaced the old traditions. It is a long-term project that many have come to accept and others refuse to recognize, but everyone consciously or not participates in the new regime.
Though apparently the town has not changed beyond the obvious, time will reveal the deep changes that have occurred. The mistakes of the presents seem to be aimed at redeeming the errors committed in the past, but there was not anybody whom openly expressed the need to redeem the past. There is indeed a need for improvement, but the changes currently occurring are not necessarily the ones that are desperately needed.
The ruins of the old town remain hidden under the shadows of the new town that rises over to reach the sky. It lies in the foundation of what the old town used to be: the town that is cherished by those who knew it, by those who enjoyed it in the past. It remains in the memories of those who inhabited while the senses of those who now enjoy its premises experience a different town.
At the end, the town has deeply changed, indeed. The town in which past generations have lived is not the one which the new generations enjoy. People speak of treasured memories of a town that only dimly outlines the shadow of the one that the new generations know.

xoxo,
Poison Drops


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