Cinquant Otage

It was possible to catch the tram but we missed it intentionally. Probably I wanted to live in that transience few more moments. Even more, I wanted to witness the beauty in the ever-changing ambience of Nantes. Though it was possible to walk down till the destination and we occassionally did that but it was equalling charming to be in the tram that nonetheless looked like magnified toy train in cartoons. There was no place devoid of greenary. But certain points in the way looked so amazing that no words do fit in impeccably to describe it. Tram passed along auxillary rivulet of La Loire river, which was not-so-different from backwaters of Kerala. Some steamers, small ships were tugged to the bank, I wondered when they actually ran. Few leaves dripped in the river and floated till they rottened and vanquished. Few bambo like leaves hung from the shoots and remained green till they actually fell to their utmost desire. Other side was bridged with the main road that carried scarce traffic unto it. The river bank was so well maintained to loosen it's pristinity.

By the time the tram line diverted from the river bank, I always saw one pillar with something scribbled on it in french. I never desired to read them but it overall engendered my inquisition always, almost always. The tram station read,'Cinquant Otage'. I knew bit of french to understand that something is fifty, but then again it remain no longer in my memory to seek any further meaning from it.

Two french friends of us invited us for the party. One more joined us and we five went to eat something typically french. French are generally staunch, bit orthodox beings. They are quite proud of there culture, well thats good, but they are generally not-so-open to any thing else. They offered us some alcohol imbibed in apple juice. I rarely had any drink that tasted sweet and so sweet that it almost obviated the feeling of having alcohol. That was speciality of france. I don't remember the name but it tasted bit higher than the best wine I had. They wondered, India din't belive in alcohol. Our culture has not produced anything specific in liquor but just to name few, I recited, Sula and Fenny. Though they suffered anonymity but than again there was nothing I could say more on.

While we returned, we witnessed the same pillar 'cinquant otage'. I asked them, 'what does it mean?'. They looked into each others eyes with their eye-brows risen. One of them answered that during second world war, Germany kept fifty civilian hostages from that area. Whenever french army killed a single soldier, germans killed one hostage in retaliation. Cinquant Otage indeed meant fifty hostages. I couldn't believe, it had such grave reality behind it. For the time being, I felt, I revisited the cruel and inhuman Nazi manuvers. I wondered two neighbouring countries of europe, france and germany. France that engendered human rights. Germany that worked all possible ways to inhuman treatment. Though two sides of coin exist but do they live so close and be disparate.