“My father used to say that stories are part of the most precious heritage of mankind.”
True enough,Heritage and history makes us who we are…..you cant deny history because at the end of the day,that’s where you get back to. Roots call,my friend and you cant ignore it,quite literally. In the process of the GCA application, I visited Victoria Memorial Hall yesterday. While this naughty little group engrossed itself in activities ranging from selfies to interviewing people,your mind goes back to the date it all happened. The surrounding turns sepia,the ranges go bleak,you see people in armors and not in jeans anymore. You see the hundreds of workers panting to set the slabs of rocks straight,only a fraction of the building done,a jewel in the making. Chariots screech,the sound of hooves get closer as the royal delegates close in…..spellbound at the magnificence growing up,brick by brick. I come back to life through intrusions of the reality.All done,we head home. A doom standing in the twilight,one that would continue to amaze its lovers and worshipers alike,in centuries to come…..