The city with walls

The city was shimmering when she looked down from the lighthouse. The lighthouse was a sacred place, maintained by the city but yet not open to the tourist. Neither had it been in the past. Only few had keys to the lighthouse. The lighthouse was amply situated at the top of the entry gate boasting of the grandeur alongwith the mighty walls and glimmering outrageously because of its exclusivity.

“The city has a life of its own. It makes its own choices, chooses its own people. It breathes in people it likes and spits out the rest", the view had her mesmerized. "There is something to be learnt from this. Who says the walls are bad? Maybe keep population in check so help our country”, she said tapping the cigarette butt after a long drag.

It was a cold night. And the air at that height must already be thin. It was his last day. She may not have been ready to take over but she was not going to miss out on any wise words coming from his trusted friend, confidante and mentor.

The city had a medieval past which everyone knew about. It was documented of course. But, nobody knew the form of existence it took before that.

“Who would have built those wall?”, she was not aware but she spoke aloud.

Som interrupted while cutting her trans short, “I like it too to see how this city gets to live so many lives in one lifetime”. They seemed to be in unison. But, he made a point for her to notice what he was going to say next. “It is not a layman observation. Only few of us get to see it as a whole. From outside. From up above here, you know.”

“The walls may have kept it confined. They didn’t allow it to expand or to contract but they did separate the city from the country outside”, he went on.

It felt like the right moment and he started to rummage around in his loose kurta pockets to find a set of jangling keys. “These are yours now. Know what to do with it?”, the symbolic baton had been passed on. She raised her eyebrow and bent her cigarette against the edge of the roof to put it out. The sigh exhaled every last soot from her lungs and from her heart.   

“Did you still figure out why these walls were propped up?”, he knew their conversation was nearing its end.

She looked at him blankly.

“To keep my ancestors away from yours. ”, he put out his cigarette and started to get up. He never attempted to make eye-contact with her during this time. "Or so says the folklore around here", he eased out.

The confusion was smeared all across her face. Discrimination had been the part of her life all along ; since her childhood. How long was that going to continue? The mentor had gauged the shock in her eyes.  

“So now you know what these keys mean”, he tapped his mentee’s back gesturing her to get up.

She took those keys and laid them out in her palm. City was hers now. But she had work cut out for her. To get city to make her its own.  

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YeahWrite prompt: Write a poem set around a walled city or write a chant (or combine the two).