In the year 2007 on our way back from Canada, my first ever trip abroad, I was awed at the atmosphere of freedom that pervaded the surroundings . I was roaming the streets of Paris in the company of my Jeejaji, my sister’s husband - a more apt epithet that states my relationship than the more confusing word brother-in-law as we say in English.
We had reached Champs Elysees with the intention of watching the finals of the Tour de France, a yearning that I was eager to fulfil, even if it was only the last leg of the race. Fortunately or unfortunately, we reached just as the prize-giving ceremony ended and the crowd started dispersing….. Not a bit disappointed.... we walked from one end of Champs Elysees towards the Arc de Triomphe curiously watching the unravelling of the event. The road from the Louvre to the Arc was devoid of traffic.
People were lazily walking, energetically discussing - the event possibly. Both of us were awed at the meticulous manner in which they were wrapping up….Huge trucks carrying forklifts were systematically picking up temporary restrooms. Others just rolled along the main avenue while youngsters picked up red and white plastic dividers used to demarcate the area. Some of the stands for seating people, bleachers as they are known, I noticed were just pneumatically folding up onto the truck itself! We covered about three and a half km distance in about an hour by which time the dais was cleared and all evidence of the event removed except for advertising banners and other sundry structures. The ten-lane traffic was back in all its glory, cars and vehicles in all shapes and sizes plied nonchalantly!!
It appears that Achan did not have much time to take photographs and so indulged in purchase of water colours from the shops on the banks of the Seine river that also affirmed his artistic taste.
In the company of M. Géhin, Achan and Amma would have definitely taken a tour of the city as can be seen from the photos. Yet a drive round Paris cannot do justice to the famous city as Mr. Neelakanda Sarma, Achan’s esteemed friend and erstwhile Member of the Railway board had pointed out. For officials like him and Achan, the experience of a car drive around Paris cannot be compared to us - three sisters’s flanerie.. aimless idle loafing…each of us well-versed in the French language. French teachers like my sisters Chandrika and Shylaja, visiting on student’s scholarships and me, a French translator - all of us visiting France on shoe-string budgets at different periods !
Yes, unlike the officials, we could feel the throbbing of Paris in our hearts as we looked out for familiar nooks and corners mentioned in the literature that we devoured or the cafés, frequented by our favourite authors and artists. Café Les Deux Magots, frequented by Simone de Beauvoir and Sartre or Café de Flore, by Robert Desnos, de Queneau and Picasso, for example!... As one says, “To err is human, to loaf is Parisian” and that’s exactly what we did.
The fact that our fascination for Paris and its ambience is not the same as that for the rest of the family came as an unpleasant surprise when I visited the Louvre, during my second visit to Paris after an aborted first visit. To start in the right order my first trial was in 2007. My eagerness to go to the Louvre Museum was not shared by Jeejaji and Chandrika being indisposed, he was naturally more inclined to accompany her to the doctor. Armed with the map of the Paris subway and detailed instructions from Chandrika’s friend Annie, I set out and reached the Louvre without any mishappening.
My over enthusiasm made me splurge money on the audio guide and eagerly I had just started to explore the various artefacts laid out when I get a call from my daughter working in a refinery, away on the shores of the Atlantic on the “sleeve” or La Manche, of France. She had clear instructions for me to immediately go to the hospital where Chandrika had gone to see the doctor as she is undergoing angiography and possible insertion of stent as she was diagnosed with a heart problem. She added that I was to go and relieve my Jeejaji and her friend Annie so that they can have lunch!!! Shock and fear mingled with anger and disappointment as I reluctantly returned the audio guide and caught the metro as instructed.
A few hours of tension was relieved only on seeing Chandrika being rolled out on a stretcher, laughing and nodding her head informing us that the bangles(stent) have been inserted on the artery.
My second visit in the company of two youngsters, my son and nephew, was nothing but an anti-climax. This time, with memories of money wasted previously, I took only two audio guides for three of us that ended in a silent tug of war between the youngsters, each being over courteous.
The seething frustration spilt over to my son’s desire to see only sculptures while I searched and admired the paintings. Soon I was lost in the beauty of my surroundings and installations only to finally come across both friends sprawled across a bench deep in absorbing the beauty themselves.
The time that our parents spent in the Louvre Museum is documented in a black and white photo, not taken by Achan though, of the famous sculpture of Venus de Milo. Achan was not remiss in showing us the commercial side of Paris.
The picture of Amma standing near a shop window, juxtaposed against the Christmas decorations was for us a "WoW" moment! As my travel companion Juneja once pointed out : such photos should be taken to show that if we cannot afford to buy branded items like Dior dresses or Chanel perfumes, we could at no cost click photos at their shop windows!
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