Actually not one but several conversations are happening here.
The diminutive adult who may have been a helper or attendant at an earlier point and could be conversing with his memories of those "better" days which actually may have been hard days of toil for him but considering the ravages of time on the building and his own life, the present must seem far more unbearable.
And then theres the gnarled knotted tree bent but not broken and still visited by spring. conversing with itself and with the walls that will never be revisited by old glory.
And the doors windows pillars passages conversing together in a perennial assembly of mourning.
And the light outside and the dark shadows within, they may be conversing too.
To say nothing of the embedded traces of lives that have lived loved lost within these premises.
Would they not be conversing with each other too?
Bahut khoob hai.
i wonder where it was hidden all these years.