A civilization, which hums the tune of its own multiple pasts. If you listen closely enough, it will unfurl into a story, of the epitome of indus-ness, of the vestiges from East, and the remains of the Colonial guests, of fertility and of colors. Everything, the air, the soil, the smell, the tales, weave into an overwhelming aura of love and life. You cannot just leave, without falling in love with all of it, the people, the heritage, the streets, the mores, which breathe together like a giant conscious organism.
It is not the buildings or the monuments. It is not the centers of urbanization. It is not the lights or the glory. It’s the architect of thought, the richness of ideals and the legacy of perspectives, which captures the essence of the civilization. Lahore, the city of intellectuals and thinkers, writers and poets, humanists and the free. The place where some of the great ideas of history took birth. You will still find gathering places where great people used to chat and debate over cups of tea.
It’s here. The place where I found my reasons to live. The place of self-discovery and a fresh outlook towards life, which millions here try to find each day. It’s neither the monuments nor the lights, which fascinate me. I grew up watching them and they just carry some homey sentiments for me. But it’s not that. It is what the city has taught me, to cherish, to sustain, to hold esteem and to keep discovering. It’s not physical. It is philosophical.
You won’t be able to put your fingers on what is it that is so intoxicating. Maybe it is something in the air, maybe it is the people. But you will deeply love every moment of that sweet intoxication which the city melds you in.
