I wait for the rich to enter my bowels and meander through. I display my assets and greatest jewels hoping that they will catch a wanderer's eye. It is too crowded inside me and I burst here and there. The constant flirting of the salesman destroy me little by little. I am an ancient way of life, a part of people's history. All I want is to sell the items that make up my heritage.
As the small boy, with big eyes, enters into my long corridors, he is too late. I have grown dark. I feel tired and empty. Too many have come before the boy and I have nothing left to give. He seems lost or broken. I didn't satisfy him. But then again, I never satisfy anyone, I'm just a market, just Araby.
You are Araby, but not for the reasons you think. You have pleased so many, who have had the opportunity to meet you and enjoy your company. You share your treasures with many, who end up adoring them forever. The salesmen try to destroy you, but inevitably become unsuccessful, as you are Araby; the vast and unbreakable bazaar, the tradition that will last forever. So sad for those, who arrive too late to you, for they never get to marvel at all you have to offer. So sad for those, who give up on what you have, for they never get the chance to fully understand what an opportunity it truly is to be at Araby.
ReplyDeleteCool post, Lex :) love you dearly.
Goosebumps!
ReplyDeleteLexi, this is so insightful. Its so interesting how you chose to write from the prospective of Araby itself. This is well written and over thoughtful. I never would have seen it this way had you not posted this. Well done!
ReplyDeleteWow... I'm simply speechless of how genius this idea of yours has been. Since we view the world of Araby from the boy's point of view in the story, it is hard to determine the true qualities of Araby itself in the mindset of itself. Well done, very well done indeed.
ReplyDeleteDang! That was incredible, but I do not think that it describes you for who you actually are.
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