Can modern dreams and old roots stay?
Or must tradition fade away?
Glass towers rise, but do they feel
The sun, the rain the lands they steal?

Across the world, the cities shine,
Yet lose their soul in concrete lines.
Where once stood homes with earthen grace,
Now lifeless walls take up their place.

But wait! A whisper soft yet strong,
A voice that sings of land and song.
"Modern must blend with what was here,
Not wipe away what's held so dear."

The desert knows its cooling shade,
The mountains, roofs that snow evade.
The tropics dance with breeze and light,
Yet towers rise oblivious height.

The walls of IIM still hum,
Of courtyards where the voices drum.
And Sangat's stones, they tell a tale,
Of cooling winds that never fail.

Yet cities chase the copied trend,
Forgetting where the roots extend.
The homes they build, lack a past,
Structures made but built too fast.

The future calls, but hear it well,
A tale of balance, time will tell.
Let modern rise, but not alone,
Local hearts must find a home.

So tell me, friends, what do you see?
Should past and present blend, or flee?
Have you found a place so wise,
Where do modern stand with native ties?

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