Along the edge of the abandoned house, life gathers in small, repeated ways. Men who go out to fish during the day return and sit here in the afternoons and evenings. They tie ropes to broken pillars and rest in the shade of the remaining walls. Slowly, this edge becomes their place. They drink, gamble, talk, and pass time together. Nothing is marked, but everyone knows who the space belongs to and when.

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Children move through this same edge differently. They run along the broken plinths, climb low walls, and play between the cracks. For them, the ruin is not dangerous or empty. It is a familiar ground, shaped by play and movement.

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Small shops line the road beside the house. A tea stall, a grocery counter, and temporary vendors keep the edge active through the day. People stop, talk, buy small things, and move on. The road and the ruin overlap, becoming one shared space.

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Over the years, trees have grown inside the abandoned structure. Roots push through old floors, and branches rise above broken roofs. These trees give shade. Birds nest in them. Animals rest beneath them. What was once a house now shelters many forms of life.

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The building now acts as an extension. It holds work, rest, play, and pause. Human life, animals, and plants exist together here, quietly shaping the space day after day.