There is a house that was broken and left behind after the cyclone. The roof collapsed in parts, and the walls cracked, making it difficult to live in. Over time, the family moved away, but the house did not disappear from daily life. It stayed open, slowly becoming part of the neighbourhood again.

 

During the day, people from nearby houses use this space for their work. Fish are laid out to dry where the sun and wind reach easily. A tap near the wall is used to wash dishes and clothes. Lines are tied to broken columns and window frames, and clothes hang across the open rooms. The house supports many small activities, each one simple, but repeated every day.

 

As the heat softens in the evening, the space changes. Older people come out and sit along the edge of the broken house. They bring tea, talk about the day, and watch children playing nearby. Laughter and quiet conversation fill the space. The house becomes a place to pause.

 

The building is no longer a home in the usual sense, but it continues to hold life. Without being repaired or rebuilt, it has found a new role. Through shared use and everyday routines, the abandoned house becomes a common space, shaped by time, care, and the people who live around it.