Certified crazy

Last week, on the Paris Metro, I found another set of beautiful lines. (Like earlier) This time, I googled for the four lines and found the whole poem:

Que m’importent lieu, durée,
Si je demeure assurée
De garder toujours l’instant
Seconde ou siècles, autant
Le vent sur sa route emporte.
Lieu, durée, ah, que m’importe,
Tout défile au même train.

Je ne saisirai qu’un grain
Du sable des destinées.

Pour le cueillir, je suis née.

- Liliane Wouters
Extrait de Tous les chemins conduisent à la mer, éditions des Eperonniers, 2007.
Keeping aside the stink of the Metros, I think it has been a worthwhile ride.

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.

Paris has a bizzare way of charming people. All the tourists spots dont tell you how the real Paris feels like. Real Paris is the feeling you get when you drive down Rue Alesia on your velib at midnight and still have people walking back from films, lovers sitting on the benches and taking in the moonlit sky and some jogging at this hour in the night.

Just came back from a 45 minute ride on the cycle and it did the wonders that a lot of people could not. Made me happy and free. I have fallen in love with this city.

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.

Paris – check
Eiffel Tower – check
Arc de Triomphe – check
Champes Elysees – check
Musee d’Orsay – uncheck
Musee de Louvre – uncheck
Hagen Das triple scoop ice cream – check
Gare du Nord – check
Onion Uttappam in Paris – check
Rosgullas from Paris – check
Sunday morning mass at Notre Dame – check (in French though)
Brunch at a French Patisserie – check

Paris is Grand! And charmingly beautiful in its own way. It is very much like Mumbai though – people are always in a hurry, well most of the times.

It was an early winter in Paris – too cold, but I ain’t complaining. Maple leaves everywhere. With less than 30 hours on hand, I tried to feel Paris. A lot more to be seen, a lot more to be heard. May be, some other time, some other season.

Did I mention that most of the tourist places checked above were done on a cold, windy evening, without a proper overcoat, in a saree?

Crazy.