Imaginary city

I’m a dreamer. Being highly critical of my own self I am always continuously checking out the works of other dreamers as if to set some standards of my own for my dreams. I am always intrigued by the idea of writers and their imaginary worlds; like Plato & The Republic, Italo Calvino & Invisible Cities, J.R.R Tolkien & the Middle Earth, C.S. Lewis & the alternate universe of Narnia, Terry Pratchett & Discworld, Dr. Seuss & Whoville in the speck of dust, Philip Pullman & the parallel worlds and not forgetting J.K Rowling and the wizarding world surrounding the Hogwarts school. I find in a way their literary utopia serves as some sort of escapism or a projection of how their ideal world should be like.

In my imaginary city the apartments are small, but very cozy, homely and well decorated. They are situated very closely to each other divided by a pavement lined of red bricks, much to Maya’s delight. The clothesline would hang parallel above the pavement, so every day pedestrians will have to walk under our fresh-scented laundry. My friends and I live close to each other so we can have tea every evening, gossip about things & take pictures all day long.

Since this is my imaginary city, I have the bragging rights to claim myself as a renowned design writer working from home up at my stylish balcony waving to people on the streets. Azry will own a family diner at the end of the block, doing what he does best: calculating budgets. 

The risk of air pollution will be minimal since most of the places are accessible by walking distance or cycling (I like to keep my dreams small & manageable). In fact, people don’t drive at all. There’s also a lovely tulip farm at the end of the city, which is surprising because the city smells of lavender the whole time.

Every month there will be a parade to celebrate the residents’ birthdays, and the birthday boys and girls of the month will participate in the parade as they march proudly stomping their feet on the red brick pavement. Balloons fill the city day and night. It is made mandatory that every Monday people will have to wear the red nose as a way to battle Monday blues. The city will have its own anthem, of which people don’t have to stand straight once it plays. They have to dance their muscles out, young and old. Actually, there is no right or wrong way to do anything once it plays.

My imaginary city will not be named after me, that’d be too self-centered since I’d like to include everybody in. It would probably be called something random like Socksville or Fafifofum or something like that. Something catchy so people will never forget.

(This post is inspired by my favorite exploration task in Keri Smith’s How to be An Explorer #35: Invisible Cities. Photos from occhichiusi and Trapac.)