I want to speak to you about the beauty of Prague, a place close to heart to luminaries whose books we read and speak of till this present time, about how the loss of day would begin with its remaining light casted onto the oldest and grandest of buildings, leaving beautiful hues of blues, pinks and golds reflected on the waters of the Vltava river beneath the Charles Bridge. Think about the ensuing shadowplay as the descent of the velvety night-time darkness would begin its slow, certain crawl leaving an aftermark the way certain aches do, the balustrade of the bridge lined with enigmatic statues in poignant poses as together we questioned and thirsted for its history, wondering if there would ever be space for another day filled with scenic sights of such breathtaking beauty, and its trees and trees with branches like skinny limbs, so needy in its wait for greenery.
The interplay of salty, sweet and fruity scents from the market would greet us as sellers peddled their wares of mulled wine, soups, chocolates and roasted meats at the Christmas markets. My heart felt light and free as we got on trams and trains and walked along roads and buildings that made it feel as if we were exploring more the inside images of postcards instead of real life. The Old Town Square was congested with locals and tourists trampling along the snaking cobbled roads to bring home the souvenirs that are photographs. We ate meals of fish and pasta during our time there, hardly local delicacies, but it was apparent to us how prominent meat, pork in particular, was over there. However, what we lacked in choice certainly made up in affordability.
We walked till our feet were sore, having coffee and tea in cafes including one that used to be frequented by Kafka and Einstein. Most of all, I was grateful to be there with a friend I’ve known and who has known me well over the span of five years, and counting. Not many friendships get to taste the same age and depth of intimacies we have grown to have and this winter break has given space for endless meaningful conversations in the cold with a person I feel comfortable in sharing my monologues with, without feeling the slightest hint of embarrassment. Perhaps accepting another is a greater gift than being accepted. The only loss during the trip was getting my iPhone stolen while we were crossing a busy intersection but I was duly consoled by the reminder that stuff is stuff and stuff unlike certain things can at least be replaced.
We perused a secondhand bookstore during one of our final nights where I picked up an old copy of Jhumpa Lahiri’s Interpreter of Maladies, a novel with such weighted and meaningful prose contained in the type of stories I hope to be able to write someday. It was a fitting discovery, like other moments in Prague. How lovely when inspiration creeps up most when you least expect it to.
I went home convinced that Prague is a place to reminisce on past and new loves.
Happy New Year to all friends and readers. I hope 2016 will be a year filled with more good than bad, as well as continued growth and progress. This is not something to be said often but although living is a struggle, remember that there are many things that make it worth it. I still believe in this.
All my best.