Lahore – a city once confined to these thirteen gates has now crossed all boundaries, stretching its arms for the outsiders and welcoming the urban man, who now seems to own the city more than its original inhabitants.
Lahore first stretched its arms for the British, who were overwhelmed with the city’s warmth to the extent that they de-fortified the city, demolishing all gates, except Roshnai Gate, widening the city’s expanse.
The vestiges of the city’s soul were later ravished by its inhabitants in the riots of 1947. They left no stone unturned to claim back their love, not only from the British but their own selves too, whining and whingeing about their birthright and burning away other gates too. The city was raped and eventually numbed. The gates were burnt, the boundaries had been violated, the city reduced to ashes, but only to rise back again.
We all believe in phoenixes, do we? The cultural grandeur, some believe, has faded. The values, some believe, have been diluted. But a look at the gates, the remains of a glory now camouflaged, is enough to fill a city dweller, even the one alien to its past, with a sense of belonging. Lahore indeed has its ways of making people own it.
