A few weeks back

It was a sunny Saturday. Three of us were off to attend a junior friend's marriage ceremony. Soon we left behind the outskirts of the city and were out on a road, flanked on both sides by strips of water and vast expanses of paddy fields beyond...
An hour later we were on our own, with no remarkable landmarks and only our cellphones to contact civilization. Initially we began to wonder whether we'd lost our way, but after a while found indications that we were on the right track.
Upon reaching our destination, we were overwhelmed by the cordiality and hospitality we received. Our hosts left no stone unturned to make us feel at home. We had a wholesome meal and roamed around a bit - all around were signs of a decadent cultural heritage. An array of dilapidated houses bore evidence of an affluent past, complete with arched gateways and stables, which were now grassy wastes. Occasional glimpses through aged windows of ailing semi-palaces revealed worn-out people and interiors, tired of withstanding the vicissitudes of Nature.
We left in the evening, with filled stomachs and heavy hearts. It was a strange feeling; as if we were leaving behind our duties undone. We had just now stolen valuable historical pieces of memory without paying adequate homage to our past glory.
Soon we were in the heart of the city, our nostalgia all forgotten - the heartache of a rural conscience conveniently gotten rid of, preparing for another urban day...