Most of the water is held up in dams upstream. A population lives of it. The river seems to grin and bear.
But right there, right in the middle of what was once a river, there is this structure. Pillars. Steps. Floor and roof.
“A flowing river, a gentle breeze and a cleaner air, all provide the ideal batter for simple wonderful conversations. Right there in the middle of the mandapam !” Those were a great grandmothers words. Many years ago.
Today, it seems empty. Not many go there. At least not for conversations ! Perhaps http://www.eta-i.org/sildenafil.html because, the river flows occasionally.
The mind wonders if this place doesn’t miss conversations ? Well, but who doesn’t ?
In times when conversations happen only through chat windows, scraps, comments and text messages, who has time for plain old conversation ?
Tweet me. Scrap me. Text me. DM me. Ping me. Mail me. Those resonate well with the modern day world. But ‘Speak to me’ ?!?! hmm !
Mandapams like this still stand holding evidence of conversations, the plain old way. Taking the mind to a different time. When one human being could connect to another. By sitting down and chatting up !
I am an old fashioned chap you see, and it could sure sound queer, but would you mind if i can talk to you without having to use my fingers ?