France in Me.

Sky was azure and bright. I stood there with my face, facing the welkin. Horizon was delimited by the atlantic ocean. I saw ducks on the beach that later I came to know, were sea-hens. That's the speciality of atlantic ocean. When I skid on the not-so-expressive frozen ice on the foot-path, I came to know, foot-path could be slippery without cow-dung also. When I had the hardest bread in my life, I realized why it is called 'pain' in french.

I am never alone. I always find beautiful creatures around me. Somebody is stone hard planned and calculative then someone is so careless that he doesn't bother where he's going and realizes what he has eaten after having it all. On the first day in office, I met the person whom I considered, whole-n-sole. But later on I realized, He was NOTHING, simply NOTHING. But then again, It is so mediocre to be with people who are SOMETHING. So being sophisticated and modest, I did lunch with NOTHING.

Once I decided to go to Paris, for some official work. I needed tickets and travel information. I went to the lady who does all these work. Fortunately, She didn't knew english. I had another oppertunity to explore my non-verbal skills. But unfortunately, she couldn't bear me for long. She went and asked someone, whom I thought NOTHING, to act as translator. He came and took immense interest in my travel to paris. He was french chauvinist. He planned all my weekends to some or the other beaches, mountains, historic towns (of course whose history was beyond my purview). Later on, I realized, He was BIG-THING.

Sooner, I was joined by one plump and cute norwegian. He was quite senior to me and had good experience in my company. He used to take lunch with us. He was quite a photographer than a software engineer. He used to roam alone. I don't know how people roam alone. But he did that quite gracefully. He was the example complete narcissist. He loved himself. He was contented with himself, his profession and his passion that he needed no one else. Not even for appreciating his works. Then Christmas came and he went to Oslo. I don't whether he ever discussed about us to his family. But one thing is that, that no single day was gone without discussion about him.

One freezing day and I thought, 'its pretty hot today'. Somebody from my office stopped and beckoned me to get in the car. I was pleased. But when it came to my notice that outside it was subzero. His eyes glistened and mine surprised. We didn't talk no more.

Few people in france love indian food. They gave us the map to reach one indian restaraunt. Even though I didn't miss much the indian food. I just went to the place. I was greeted in the restaraunt by NAMASTE. He was the old, frail, well dressed, gujrati by tongue and french by nationality manager cum owner of the restaraunt. His parents were from Gujrat. Gone or deported to Medagascar in 1912, for I don't know what reasons. And France, the beautiful and humane country on this earth, given french citizenship to all the descendents. Hence was he there. He didn't knew English. But he knew tidbits of Hindi. Not very fluent but cute.