The old house at the end of the street was long since lying in ruins.
Old timers from the neighbourhood would reminisce about the halcyon days when it was the pride of their entire community.
"Tch tch...what a waste of money and all that labour! Old man Thakur would have grieved had he been alive to witness the doings of his descendants! "
"All the wealth squandered away, all the property frittered away on wine and women! The rascals now languish in abject poverty, cursing their fate! Aah...don't they say, "Man is the master of his own destiny?"
" Old Thakur's wife still haunts the house....the poor old thing died of a broken heart. Why would she ever forgive them?" they concurred.