“He who contemplates the depths of Paris is seized with vertigo.
Nothing is more fantastic. Nothing is more tragic.
Nothing is more sublime.”
― Victor Hugo
I hope I won’t be caught exaggerating when I say that the one city I wish I was born would be Paris.
It is not about the architecture, history, the weather or people; it’s not the food the Eiffel tower or even music. The forty hours I roamed in Paris I found a subtlety, which is so incomprehensible and understated, evident but not apparent.Rather than trying to decipher the eerie feeling, let me take you on a journey through this city of culture, ideas, love, war, romance and revolution.The city is hand crafted. The river Sean flows right beside. The city is daunted with a monument that requires no introduction, The Eiffel Tower.
Let me talk about another monument which we have noticed many times in many sources, Arc de Triomphe.
Standing right in the center of the city, it saw many historical episodes unfold.
Built in Roman style the arc is symbol of every major processions.
What I felt is very closely described as romance. Romance, so subtle that its not loud neither leud. Its subtle and sublime. A city where starving to death is still considered a privilege. Pari, where artists still starve , still live in poverty .
Paris , has blessed many famous artists with death , their earthly remains still haunt the streets of this city.
A city where everything is not on sale , a city where Renaissance reoccurs every night , in a small ally or maybe in a subway platform ; not with guns , but rather with words , emotions , painting , photography and of course music.
