I had a very memorable trip to Pindi some years ago. The train trip itself became a good memory. I killed the ephemeral moments clicking pictures instead of slumber. The unkind weather helped in discovering the bogey’s door to take pictures because it was airy enough with a handsome view. The train sped its way through Gujjar Khan (a city south of Rawal Pindi) It was after crossing the Salt Range, when I saw an old road running along the train tracks which in old times used to connect Lahore and Rawalpindi, probably during the British Raj. Hence a century old gem. Still some village folks were using it as a mean of transport but hardly any modern vehicle. Time had worn most of that road after decades and centuries. New roads have sprung up making that path almost forgotten to the modern dwellers. Hidden in bushes and away from the eyes, it was hardly possible to see it from the road side. At places, it was so narrow that two cars cannot cross it simultaneously.My camera was clicking pictures at a steady rate. At one moment it clicked an old bridge which I didn’t know then. I discovered that after weeks when flicking through the pool. That picture, attached here, was a thought provoking push, a strong one. I wondered how many lovers, teachers, mothers, children, friends, enemies had crossed that old and forgotten bridge. Very literally, the paths of many lives would have crossed at that bridge. But no one would remember it as we forget even the paths we take ourselves in life. Don’t we?