The joy of dancing to a valaga

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A cousins wedding in Coorg seems like a perfect excuse to get dolled up, catch up with all of your sisters and dance the weekend away. All amidst a blur of colourful festivities.

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Aren’t most conversations interesting if you are in a good mood?

A friends poignant question about strangers and long term memories associated with run ins with strangers, has opened up a flood gate of memories that involve benches, coffee shops, euro-rails, lakes, hills, elevators, bathrooms in clubs and even trial rooms. Who initiated these conversations, I’m not sure. But I’m sure there was a polite silence before engaging in general small talk that led to the big talk with people I hadn’t met before. I’ve traded stories for hours with a few of them and at times bravely confided facts that I hadn’t told a soul before.

A few of those strangers with whom I’ve kept in touch remember to send me the most lovely winter wonderland pictures from around the world.

From the Carolina’s to Europe actually 🙂

Napoli 

Home of Pizza, a volcano, quintessential Italian scenes, loud (actually very loud) Italians, brilliant sea food and the gateway to the Mediterranean Sea.

As the Italian countryside bathed in beautiful sunlight whizzes past my train window, I can’t help but feel heartbroken that this adventure is over. But, that means I get to go home just in time to start the festivities to my little brothers wedding. I can’t believe Scooby is getting married!!!

So that is how the seas were tamed 

The Trevi fountain is the very stuff of which dreams are made. Neptune and his merpeople taming the ocean waters depicted in stone is a vision of mythical proportions. And maybe that is why even though I avoid cliché-d experiences like the plague, I couldn’t help throwing coins over my shoulder and making a wish(and hoping with all my heart that it comes true). Met a lovely young French couple from Marseille whose kids made the cutest wishes.

And just like I had at the gates of the Colosseum, I caught myself wondering how I would have never guessed that there would be a day when I would be putting my knowledge about Roman numerals from the second grade in school to use, in order to read dates inscribed on the Pantheon. It’s as surreal a realisation as it can get.

Life has brought me a very very very long way. To a time when I can carve out magical days for myself instead of waiting for the cosmos to make them happen. I’m thanking all the 2000 Roman Gods in whose honour Julius Agrippa originally had this building commissioned.