j’ai dit parfois
j’ai dit oui
j’ai dit non
j’ai dit parfois
j’ai dit oui
j’ai dit oui
j’ai dit peut-être
j’ai dit jamais
j’ai dit je t’aime
-Pierre Tilman
As seen on a sticker of Rock en Seine festival in metro ligne 6. Apart from this one. May be, someday, I shall make a series of these beautiful lines that I happen to stumble over, in Paris.
Read off one of the posters of Rock en Seine in the ligne 6 of Paris Metro.
Je ne saurais décrire
La puissance de mes sentiment
Je n’est qu’une chose à dire
Je t’aime tellement …
Touché.
This could probably be my last post from Sophia Antipolis and Eurécom for a long time to come. With exams done, and projects submitted, and reports taken care of, now its time to shift base to Paris, for internship for the next six months.
Time sure flew by very fast, especially this semester, as I had expected it to, and we are all saying bye bye and au revoirs to every other person who leaves Sophia for other places in France and elsewhere in Europe. A lot of parties and good bye dinners. Hugs. Pool games. Foosball. Wine. Flowers. Jokes. Laughter. Jogs. Trips to Carrefour. The climb up to Eurecom. More trips to Carrefour. Closure of EDF contracts. Trips to Issac. The balconies. Rain. Tea. Cheese balls. Maggi. French. And the struggle to speak Français. Beach. Promenade des Anglais. Crème glace. Fountain. The walks through the jungle. The complements. Benches in the moonlight. Neighbours. Sitting at the window. 321. The church. Running to catch the last bus back home. Falafel. Summer wind. Group classes during exams. Copy everything blindly from others´ notes. Open book exams. Handwritten A4 cheatsheets. Badminton. Asking for everything under the sun. And getting it. The calls. Late night speak-your-heart-out sessions. Haircuts. Cleaning up after parties. Cooking food and seeing it being eaten very happily. Pani puris. Hair bands.
Au revoir, mais pas adieu.
बिछड़ गया हर साथी देकर
पल दो पल का साथ
किसको फुर्सत है जो थामे
दीवानों का हाथ
हमको अपना साया तक
अक्सर बेगार मिला …
Eu não existo longe de você
E a solidão, é o meu pior castigo
Eu conto as horas pra poder te ver
Mas o relógio tá de mal comigo…
Por quê? Por quê?
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
- William Blake
Its a wonderful feeling, when, in a random city, at a random place, a random stranger sings out loud one of your most loved songs, to the whole restaurant. And that too, beautifully.
Amazing, what such small things in Life can do to you.
”How little the young know of living, I’d think. How foolish to think they have a monopoly on such a precious commodity. The old know what loving truly means; the young can only guess. ”
– Phyllis Volkens