I woke up in Paris today. PARIS.
P A R I S.
Too curious to wait for atul to wake up, I just had to step out just for a teeny peep at what Paris in the daylight was like and then of-course, I was locked out. No option but to ring the bell and look sheepish while a groggy host woke up to let me in. Eyes half closed, too bewildered to ask why the dotty Indian girl was standing outside in the clothes she slept in, without the keys he had handed. Sigh! So much for transforming into the graceful, exotic, diva who was going to take Paris by storm.
Ofcourse I couldn’t let things be. Grabbed the keys, once more tiptoed out to see what my Paris looked like in the morning.
And then, I saw her. Beautiful, quiet, bathed in liquid gold. I now see why so many of the world’s great impressionists were European. If I were a painter, I just found my muse.
And now to wake up my other love…