Lying on his bed, Dadu felt the weight of monotony pressing down on him. His hand reached out instinctively for the pair of glasses resting atop the bedside table. With a groan, he sat up, his joints creaking like the old bed frame beneath him. He grabbed his cane and made his way to his granddaughter Riya's room, hoping for some company.
"Dadu, you're here!" Riya exclaimed, her eyes dancing with youthful enthusiasm. Dadu settled into a chair, peering at the laptop screen. A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he remembered his long-neglected Facebook account. The password came to him slowly, like a distant memory surfacing from the depths.
As Dadu logged in, messages flooded the screen—8678 to be exact. He scrolled through with growing disbelief. Old friends, now mere ghosts in the digital realm, reached out with words that went unanswered. One message caught his eye—a close friend lamenting his poor health five years ago, long since departed from this world. Dadu felt a pang of sorrow and longing.
Dadu's search led him to Maya, his one-sided love from the past. Her last post was sixteen years ago, a snapshot of her happy family. He lingered over the image, her once vibrant hair now streaked with white. Dadu marvelled at how time had changed them both. "Is she still alive?" he wondered. His heart sank at a post shared five years ago, announcing her passing. Tears welled up, unbidden and unchecked.
He continued to explore, stumbling upon old posts and photos. Each image told a story, evoking laughter and tears in equal measure. Dadu recalled friends who had departed, leaving behind vibrant digital footprints. His own last post was a family outing from thirty-three years ago. Dadu smiled at the memory, though his heart ached with the absence of his wife and daughter.
"Dadu, I'm ready for my class!" Riya announced, reaching for the laptop. "You're taking your laptop to tuition?" he asked, bemused.
"Oh, Dadu, you're so old-fashioned! We have virtual classes now," she laughed, her voice full of affectionate teasing. "No books or notebooks?" he queried, still caught in his memories.
"Nope! In your time, maybe. But not now," she replied with a grin. "Ah, the times have changed," he mused aloud.
As Riya left the room, Dadu sat in the gathering dusk, pondering the relentless march of time. Would the future remember their era as ancient history? He chuckled softly, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips. Perhaps, one day, he would revisit these digital echoes of the past, and remember the beauty of lives intertwined over time.
