I could be a lighthouse keeper.

Once a beacon of light, now a tourist spot.

No, not the temple.  

The lighthouse that once showed harbour to ships on stormy nights.  Now it beckons land travellers and photographers like me who look for stillness in the backdrop of tides.  

I could be a lighthouse keeper. I could trim the wicks.  I too, do not fit into most places, so I qualify.  

It scares me though.  Lighthouse keepers are known to become lunatic.  Not out of loneliness, no.  That is beautiful.  It’s the mercury poisoning that scares me.  

It’s the closed gates and walls that scare me.  

What if I follow the beacon towards the lighthouse, but it turns out to be on a deserted island?  It’s the being stranded on a stormy island that scares me.

So I do not qualify for the position of a lighthouse keeper then.

Such a shame.  


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[Picture: https://www.instagram.com/p/CGKeUScnJWO/]

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