Paris ...after London..

Just came back from London. Great city ,imposing,flashy with a touch of history. And yes let me add very very expensive. I felt that even after living in Paris for the last month. Thnaks to the instructions given to by my mother and with the help of a guide book, a rather comprehensive one too I must say, I was able to find cover most of the sites properly. That included a one and half hour visit to Madam Tussaud'd which cost the pocket 25 pounds. To top that my camera batteries decided that they had had enough of my clicking frenzy while I was still still in the room containing statues of contemporary stars. Because of which pictures with Sean Connery, Humphrey Bogart and Marilyn Manson to mention a few were not had.

Covering a city alone is a mixed blessing. You have the freedom to do what you want when you want (which includes spending 1.5 pounds on a ridiculously small piece of Japanese confectionary at Picaddily). In my defense it seemed rather exotic and well what the hell I just felt like it. At times you do feel a bit lonely and boredom sets in. So I was quite glad when the day dawned when I was going to bid adieu to London. My idea of coming by the old route, bus and then ferry across the English Channel and then bus again proved to be one of the best decisions I have taked recently. The journey across the sea was awesome. Standing on the deck with two shots of brandy inside me , it did not serve the purpose by the way, with the very strong and rather chilly winds blowing into my face it felt good. All around as far as the horizon all you could see was the deep blue of the sea. What might have seemed like a curse to castaways might well be a boon in today's world. Then you also had these birds flying around, my very very preliminary research suggests they might have been albatross, or rather floating around. Yes for their will were totally superseded by that of the billowing winds. I observed how sometimes when they wanted to go forward they were forced to take a much more complex and torturous routes because of the prevailing winds. I wouldn't have minded switching places with them for sometime. Floating around at the mercy of the winds with a fast swelling sea beneath you and a menacing sky above . Nothing and nobody else around you. Anyway I am fantasising. Before I go on the white hills of Dover also deserve a mention because of their pristine beauty.

I felt quite happy to have landed in Calais , which was the port in France where the ship docked. When the bus reached Paris I was really excited to see familiar surroundings and to hear the alien yet now strangely familiar language. But after coming back to Indiahouse ,where we stay, I realized that familiar though things are they are not always better. The daily schedule with its routiness and bit of other things too were enough to very quickly bring me back to earth. Its actually a bit amusing that when I had started writing this post it was most of what I mentioned in the previous line that provoked me out of my laziness, but how easily I tend to wander around. As reccomended by a lot of my friends I must know how to make my point quickly.

The power of beauty...

I went to a church today. It was very near the pantheon, another rather famous monument of Paris. It was the church of Saint Genevieve. It was I don't really know how to describe it serene , beautiful , as if once you walk in through the portals you are transported to another world. For me it was "the Europe" I had envisaged in my dreams. I was totally enraptured by it. The silence was so very overpowering. Yes I know I had never thought I would describe silence like this.But then in this case you gave yourselves up too willingly. I wanted to remember its beauty , its every detail , the awe that it had struck me with and take it back to share with my close ones. But the camera is such a futile device. I also felt a bit weird taking pictures inside the church. It was as if you did not want any vestige of modern technology to tarnish the aura that it had.
I won't even attempt to describe the stuctures that were inside the church. Leave alone my inability I would say it is not something that can be potrayed by language or any other medium of communication that man has designed for himself. Life in Paris had fallen into a routine college and then back home and then the inevitable and incredible drudgery of cooking.
I was reading in some tourist guide that Paris is a myth. I can't help but agree. Its a perfect blend of the modern technological and its past history. Isn't beauty such a strange thing. It has the power to draw you out of whatever state you are in and fill your heart with oodles and oodles of enthusiasm, happiness , joy , ecstasy and ...
I really envy the people who are able to create beauty.
What was rather ironic was that I decided to leave the church early because I had some routine work in a bank, which rather fitfully was also not completed. I am so far away from leaving with the " quality" that had so inspired me in "Zen and the Art of... ".