It was an overcast summer day and the Matheran air announced HORSE POOP with nonchalance. The Toy train had just chugged to a stop and as I shuffled my feet on the red stone below and walked along, there were old uninhabited and derelict buildings. One of them had a marking out in red as well: ‘Abandoned’. It seemed like a shout out to the world. In clear bold red letters.

I paused for a minute to imagine the fanfare with which this structure must have sprung to life. Perhaps there was a ribbon to cut and cakes to distribute. Surely a plan and purpose? Of course, there must have been government approval. Taxes must have been paid. Papers must have moved from desk to desk.

Maybe there were meetings here. Decisions taken. New babies or old hands mourned. Gossip. Sniffles. Smiles. Life in all its ordinary elements, perhaps.

And yet, that building stands barren and broken today. With cobwebs keeping company to the peeling paint. I wonder which corner the dreams and purpose hid themselves in. Perhaps it didnt transfer from one generation to another. Lost in translation.

Or maybe it just ran out of steam in the maker’s mind. The idea had died but the building remained as proof that there lived this idea once upon a time.

For some good reason, somebody gave it that public certificate too and painted “ABANDONED” on it. Just in case, someone mistook it for a space that awaits its owner who has gone to Nerul to fetch some water. Bright red letters painted with care. It is not a random street sprawl. Someone took care to write that.

As I stood there, two horses, one named Tom and another, Jerry, passed me by along swishing their tails and dumping some poop. Those swishing tails knocked on the doors of my memory.

For some reason, many aspects that I started off with much hope and purpose before losing steam, streamed by.

Projects. Hobbies. Books. People. Resolves. Habits. Work projects. And much else. Many of them stood there without closure. Perhaps I should declare ones that I want to shut down and write them away like Google does. Abandoned and declared so.

And for other ones, that I still have some hope, perhaps I should dust the cobwebs, clear up the undergrowth and restart.

Restart.

One more time. Reading. Laughing. Friendships. Writing..

Ah! writing! I begin.

It was an overcast day and the Matheran air announced HORSE POOP with nonchalance. The Toy train had just chugged to a stop and as I shuffled my feet on the red stone below and walked along, there were old uninhabited and derelict buildings.