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Agrabah by Jill Gomez
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AGRABAH
My heart was pounding with excitement, though i was almost afraid to
let
myself beleive all this was happening, lest it turn out to be just a
dream.
But no dream I had ever had was like this. The pale, cloudless sky
above,
the sandy ground beneath my feet. A dry wind blew through the city, it
was
still hot even though the sun was already low in the western sky. There
were
people all around, talking, shouting, there were little stalls all
lined up
along the street, people selling things. I walked by the stalls, ran my
hand
over the beautiful carpets, fingered the hand-woven baskets. everything
was
real and tangible. I was standing in the center of the everyday lives
of
these people. People who could never imagine how wondrous their mundane
lives looked to me.
There was an abandoned building near where I was standing. I walked
in,
climbed the crumbling stairway to the roof. I sat on a worn out, dusty
cusion, it was purple with tassels on the corners. I sat there and
looked
out at the city I had only dreamed of. There was a golden palace in the
distance, beyond the twisting streets and humble mud-brick buildings. I
had
seen this palace before, many times. But cartoons can do no justice to
such
a sight. Animation can never quite express the beauty and majesty of
the
real thing.
Somewhere below me i heard the voice of a storyteller, weaving a
fantastic
tale for his audience. I leaned over the edge of the roof to listen. I
have
never heard a tale told like that, straight from the mouth of a real
storyteller. Far in the future, across the sea, such wonderful
traditions
have been lost to us.
I listened till the storyteller finished his tale, then stood and
turned my
attention to other things. Behind me there was another building,
several
stories taller than the one i was standing on. In one of the higher
stories,
two figures were standing by a large hole in the crumbling wall,
looking out
at the city. It was a boy with thick messy black hair, and an elegant
girl
with exotic brown eyes. A blue shape appeared beside them, they talked
together and laughed.
I knew them all well, though they had never seen me. Across the
boundaries
of distance and time their stories had come to me, and had become my
favorites, the ones that inspired me. Unbeknownst to them, they had
given me
courage in some of the darkest parts of my life. It was them that made
this
city shine with wonder in my eyes, just because they lived here.
Because it
was their city.
I waved up at them. They saw me and waved back. The four of us smiled
at
each other across the rooftops.
³Hey.² I shouted up, ³You¹re Aladdin and Jasmine, aren¹t you?²
³Yeah.² The boy yelled back.
³And you¹re Genie?² I yelled to the blue one.
³that would be me.² he answered, ³Who would you be?²
³Your biggest fan.² I answered, quite truthfully.
They laughed, maybe a little amused or embarrased, but invited me to
come
have dinner with them. I climbed up to Aladdin¹s home and sat with
them,
eating simple but exotic food by the flickering light of an oil lamp.
We
laughed together like old friends, as if they weren¹t magical powerful
legends but just ordinary people.
Then again, perhaps that was part of their magic.
³By the way, thank you.² I said after the meal.
³oh, no problem.² Aladdin said, ³You¹re our friend now, you¹re welcome
here.²
³Not just for that.² I said.
³What else then?² they inquired.
What else indeed. how could I ever explain to them all they had done
for me,
all I had learned from them? I was silent for a moment, then looked
them in
the eye.
³For being my heroes.²