Paris pranaya (Part I)
We forever split our lives into many places. Each of them is a complete entity - with its own box of scents, smells, incidents, friends, foes, fights, and trips. Each of them have a set of songs we used to listen to, books that we used to read, words that we used to use often, pasttimes we used to enjoy, even the way we used to laugh, and a select collection of occasional million dollar moments when life felt complete.
And often, we tell ourselves that we should go back to visit those places again and pick up some left out memories and pack them into our bags. I rarely get to do it - It's been ages since I went back to the house I grew up in. I tell all my friends that I want to go back to BITS one more time to see the place again - But I know I would rarely get to do it. Probably because we just don't want to smudge a perfect picture inside our heads and want to let those places rest in peace. Or probably it's about the people - Those people who breathed life to the edifices, made moments out of ticking seconds and were the actors who make up memories while the place itself a mere stage. Without the people the charm isn't really there which is probably why this visit to Fontainebleau might be my last visit to the place though there's a faint hope ~C will still be there the next time I come back to Europe.
Fontainebleau is a sleepy little town 65 kms from paris. The town is famous for three things - the teeming forests which served as the favorite hunting grounds for many a french emperors, a beautiful chateau which is on par with the ones in Versailes and Vaux-le-Vicomte, and the INSEAD school of business. Not many know about this town. Some know that it's close to this town called Melun - which is another town everyone knows but no one knows why it's famous. It doesn't even have a chateau, leave alone a business school!
There are very few places in this world where I completely feel at home. Places where I am not a visitor or a tourist; where I don't need people to help me out with directions or the platforms. Feels good when you can be so comfortable with the place. Feels at home. Chennai of course is like that - Anywhere I get down in chennai, I know how to make my way home [Definitely not the case with Bangalore! I am completely at the mercy of the Auto drivers]. And so is Paris. You drop me wherever inside the Paris city, there's a good chance I know where I am and how to make my way to my old-houses in Fonty.
It's funny how little details that you can't recollect normally come back to you that very moment. Like simple pleasantries in a foreign language that you used to speak for sometime, names of the streets, the way to your favorite cafe, the names of the bus stop where you have to get down, the name in the calling bell that you have to ring and silly farting sounds that irritate you!
There's an apartment in the first floor, in Rue de fleury where BITSians have been living for the last 6 years. At the door, you have 5 calling bells with none of the names being Indian. You should remember to press the bell named "Churchill" if you have to save yourself from a lecture in french for waking up a french guy at 8:30 on a saturday morning. The house has an antique gas heating facility and EVERYTIME I enter the house, it makes this farting noise that irritates me. 3 years and 8 months later, it still happens.
~D, I have to tell you, is a perfect host. He just knows what someone would want when he enters the house. Thirty minutes after I enter the house, I have some delicious french breakfast, some bachelor tea (lots of spices, very milky and always an extra spoon of sugar but still Xtremely delicious) and lots of hot gossip. For a whole hour, we gossip about everyone - those who stayed, those who strayed, ones who left, wired geeks, weird geeks ... just about everybody. I don't know ~D too well - we probably have spent about 10 hours in all with each other before this. But I just didn't feel it right from the moment I stepped in.
The leather couch - Rarely have I seen the result of hardwork that my dad always talks about. But that day, I saw what he meant on the leather couch. For three whole years four men with all perseverence, did nothing over the weekends and sat on it as couch potatos watching TV, browsing the internet or just chatting about nothingness of the universe all to make sure their bum impressions are left there forever on the couch. And two years later, I am proud to tell you it's still there. You probably think I am imagining it - but I know the result of the 'hardly-worked' when I see it!
And then the Barbecue happened ....
And often, we tell ourselves that we should go back to visit those places again and pick up some left out memories and pack them into our bags. I rarely get to do it - It's been ages since I went back to the house I grew up in. I tell all my friends that I want to go back to BITS one more time to see the place again - But I know I would rarely get to do it. Probably because we just don't want to smudge a perfect picture inside our heads and want to let those places rest in peace. Or probably it's about the people - Those people who breathed life to the edifices, made moments out of ticking seconds and were the actors who make up memories while the place itself a mere stage. Without the people the charm isn't really there which is probably why this visit to Fontainebleau might be my last visit to the place though there's a faint hope ~C will still be there the next time I come back to Europe.
Fontainebleau is a sleepy little town 65 kms from paris. The town is famous for three things - the teeming forests which served as the favorite hunting grounds for many a french emperors, a beautiful chateau which is on par with the ones in Versailes and Vaux-le-Vicomte, and the INSEAD school of business. Not many know about this town. Some know that it's close to this town called Melun - which is another town everyone knows but no one knows why it's famous. It doesn't even have a chateau, leave alone a business school!
There are very few places in this world where I completely feel at home. Places where I am not a visitor or a tourist; where I don't need people to help me out with directions or the platforms. Feels good when you can be so comfortable with the place. Feels at home. Chennai of course is like that - Anywhere I get down in chennai, I know how to make my way home [Definitely not the case with Bangalore! I am completely at the mercy of the Auto drivers]. And so is Paris. You drop me wherever inside the Paris city, there's a good chance I know where I am and how to make my way to my old-houses in Fonty.
It's funny how little details that you can't recollect normally come back to you that very moment. Like simple pleasantries in a foreign language that you used to speak for sometime, names of the streets, the way to your favorite cafe, the names of the bus stop where you have to get down, the name in the calling bell that you have to ring and silly farting sounds that irritate you!
There's an apartment in the first floor, in Rue de fleury where BITSians have been living for the last 6 years. At the door, you have 5 calling bells with none of the names being Indian. You should remember to press the bell named "Churchill" if you have to save yourself from a lecture in french for waking up a french guy at 8:30 on a saturday morning. The house has an antique gas heating facility and EVERYTIME I enter the house, it makes this farting noise that irritates me. 3 years and 8 months later, it still happens.
~D, I have to tell you, is a perfect host. He just knows what someone would want when he enters the house. Thirty minutes after I enter the house, I have some delicious french breakfast, some bachelor tea (lots of spices, very milky and always an extra spoon of sugar but still Xtremely delicious) and lots of hot gossip. For a whole hour, we gossip about everyone - those who stayed, those who strayed, ones who left, wired geeks, weird geeks ... just about everybody. I don't know ~D too well - we probably have spent about 10 hours in all with each other before this. But I just didn't feel it right from the moment I stepped in.
The leather couch - Rarely have I seen the result of hardwork that my dad always talks about. But that day, I saw what he meant on the leather couch. For three whole years four men with all perseverence, did nothing over the weekends and sat on it as couch potatos watching TV, browsing the internet or just chatting about nothingness of the universe all to make sure their bum impressions are left there forever on the couch. And two years later, I am proud to tell you it's still there. You probably think I am imagining it - but I know the result of the 'hardly-worked' when I see it!
And then the Barbecue happened ....
posted by Rathish at 5:12 PM
13 Comments:
i sometimes feel that i shd go to BITS sometime...but i guess the place has changed so much that is is far too different from how it was when i was around. BITS as a place is no doubt ver dear to me, but more so because of the people i was with
hey! convey my hi to ~D!
~P
@RT - True Aarthi. I don't know if the places I remember and cherish will still be there. But you know what, I think i will go sometime :)
@P - Sure sir! He's looking all jakas without the tummy n all. But frankly, the bum impressions I tell you! :)
Its more like your earlier post about rats in the closet. You don’t want to move that dirty couch to find an old movie ticket because the rat that was hiding behind the couch is going to leap out and run amuck in your peaceful household. It’s going to upset you and make you think twice about moving any more furniture in your apartment.
We all live through our little phases where we are scared of damaging pleasant memories by revisiting those places that meant dearly to us. If people who made being in some place even more special leave, that can make you feel the same way too. Now that all my friends have graduated and left Madison, it doesn’t feel the same to live here anymore. Some of my friends try to get here every other weekend and we try to relive those good old days. But we understand and regret that things are not the same anymore. If I ever leave Madison, I would never want to come back here again to see how this place has changed. I guess every human being is averse to change, even if the change is for the better!
Umm... Was wondering if the title should be "Paris PraYAna" ? :)
nice post.... actually although its the people who make the moments... when you get back to BITS.... and walk towards the insti and hostels from the gates.. every inch of the road would seem to have imprints of your life there... the best would be to simply walk across your wing...
the walls would scream out names heard long ago... :)
Just noticed your "reading-list" by the side. A very interesting collection of books, I must say. The first two are my personal favourites... Would be interesting to read your opinion once you are done.
Reading this blog feels like re-living those days!!! As u rightly said, people make the place!... & Fbu with all the seniors & other folks was like a HOME indeed!!
felt off reading the post!!
Hey Rathish...
I sometimes do think, if I would like it, if I was in fleury again... I think I would be suffice with the memories, as those times would never come back without you and the rest out there.
@Meera - The title is after a kannada movie that was a huge hit sometime in 2002. One of those names that just stuck. but you are probably right - even the movie is called Prayana :) As for the books, I am done with one (Zen) - LOVED it! Will write about it soon.
@Santhosh - you are right! I didn't realize it though that it is quite similar to the rats post.
@Raghini, Saranya - Hey, nice to have you guys here :) and glad the post stuck a chord!
@Srinath - the road should be good enough for me :) There's this spot just opposite gandhi bhawan when on a fateful day I stopped to tie my shoe laces. Copied notes for an entire wing and did a lot of interesting unmentionable things for a whole day :)
Dude.. u are yet to write about the barbecue and the MoRantic Moret trip...:-)))
And ~p *&^*&^^, ur HI is acknowledged:-)
~D
When you say paris pranaya ,wat do u exactly mean by the word pranaya here?
Nothing at all actually :) I remember there was a kannada film by the same name. And I remember wanting to spell it as "prayana". But then, let this be.
Pranaya is love in kannada isn't it.
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