Twilight

River Liffey, Dublin city

A place to remember

Bright sunshine, green wet lawns, great weather, and vintage castles! Jane Austen almost always transports me to such places with her books! I always wanted to go visit a place like that someday. I think I even wrote about a dream that talks about a castle sometime back.

Anyway, I’m finally here! In Ireland!!! A beautiful place with lovely warm people. A lot more culture than the States! Very pedestrian friendly. Too windy and cold, but obviously the Irish don’t think so! After-all, it’s what they call summer!

I got here on Monday and have been outside only week nights. With a quarter of the population of Ireland living in Dublin, this city has more people and cars than it can handle. Starting Thursday evening all shops and pubs are open until very late in the night. Picture a quarter of Ireland in pubs in Dublin and the remaining three-quarters scattered in the rest of the country. That’s how crowded and noisy the city gets on Thursday nights. Their weekends start Thursday evenings, and not surprising the Irish are big on shopping as well!



Anyway, I’m yet to explore the more green part of the country. Meanwhile, I did get to catch a glimpse of the bustling city, because I got to live right in the middle of the city center near Trinity College.



See anything unusual in this picture? Notice that the windows are taller in the lower floors than the upper floors? That’s not the only building that looks like it! Almost all buildings in Dublin have windows in a similar fashion.

It is said that in the earlier Victorian days, the taller your windows, the more you were taxed. Obviously, people that can’t afford to pay heavy taxes chose to stay in the upper floors with shorter windows and lower ceilings. The more the day light into your house, the more you’re taxed. Strange, is it not? Now that’s what I would call day-light robbery!!! Thank God the government doesn’t do that anymore.

Like they say, in Ireland, always look UP to appreciate the architecture of the buildings! Look at the architecture in that! This one’s called the Spire of Dublin. Springs up right into the sky.



Almost all of Dublin’s government building remains in the old Victorian style (the windows in this one appears to have been sealed shut. probably for the same reason) with the ground floors commercialized with shops, restaurants, and pubs! Pubs! Lots of 'em!!!


I’ve been here only four days and a few hours, so that’s all I have for you folks. During the weeknights, I did visit the Dun Laoghaire harbour; an astonishing place to be. After the sun sets, around 8-ish, it’s a sight to watch the lights lit-up across the bay with its reflection falling over the sea. Sadly, no picture of that yet.

I’ll be back with more after the weekend.

Passion

I maybe a little late for this week’s scribble, but the prompt this week is too tempting to bypass. Smorgasbord; an assortment of prompts. We didn’t have to go far, cos this week we’re allowed to choose one of the 100 prompts that SS has inspired us with in the past two years.

I picked Passion! There’s a world of things one can talk about on passion, no? What I might write about is not so much passion. I would much rather call them simple pleasures. A few things I know I would definitely want to do before I die. And passionately so! :)

So here it is.

1. I want to adopt a baby girl.

2. I want to be able to wear bright stripped knee-highs, a summer dress with satin sashes, bright coloured keds and dress up like an English girl (hopefully before time starts to draw lines on the ‘girl’s’ face or before she loses her guileless smile). I’d like to have a British accent as well for a day or two. You know, talk the Queen’s English?!? I know I’ll look stupid but what the heck; let’s just say… it’s MY passion.

3. I want to visit Paris! Oh, Egypt perhaps. Or, Rome. From what I’ve read, I think it’s the most enchanting place on earth. And then Spain, I’m already in love with the castles and churches of Spain and I haven’t even looked at one. Only what I’ve read about. And seen on Discovery. But if I do Paris, I will definitely visit The Louvre. In fact, I want to do a lot of traveling. Learn a lot about the different cultures and blend all the good from them to live a good one myself.

4. And if I can’t travel, so what? I can still read. Aah, the places books can take you!!!

5. When I retire (did I mention I’m retiring at 30?) I want to go to the country and live near the temple by the temple tank. I already know which temple. Even if not at 30, that's definitely the place I'll find myself eventually.

6. I want to be a Godmother for someone.

7. I want to knit a sweater on my own and gift it to someone special. I know this can’t happen ‘cos I’m terrible at crafts. But just the thought of giving someone special a sweater knitted by me, is super exciting. :)

8. I want to be able to appreciate Irving Wallace and Mills & Boon alike. In the same breath. And throughout my lifetime. Not feel guilty about any part of it during any part of my life. What’s a little mushy romance when you desperately want it. And a little suspense when you need to feel the thrill of the adventure.

9. I want to sing softly with a loved one on a beach and never worry about a note or two going off key. Maybe, we’ll have something to laugh about, years later. **smiles**

So well those are my passions. There's more smorgasbord here!

The last one of the four

While Jane Austen is still with me, I just completed a book called Whiteout by Ken Follett. This one was fast-paced and your regular adventure/thriller.

The last one of the four books that I recently brought myself is one suggested by Phish here. Its called Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World by a Japanese author Haruki Murakami. It's not everyday that I fetch my own copy of a book suggested by a friend. But this time I did it :) Call it impulse... or deference to someone I hold admiration for! So I'll be back here with a review once I'm done.

Einstein has got to be kidding!

Whoever said “miracles don’t happen” has got to be an agnostic. I talked to a friend last week after almost two years. One of my best pals... I was literally elated to hear from him. It was a nostalgic moment for me to have had turned my grey matter over and mulled about the times the three of us wasted every Saturday evening hopelessly lying down on the beach, mostly discussing gadgets and sometimes futile gossip. When it’s about time to leave for our homes, almost always, our topic would take a damping change of course, to the subject of the supernatural; only because one of them would talk about his impending visit to the church the following morning. As if upon reflex, the other one would argue or cast a smirk for a response which would make the two of us upset. Not because we try to make him believe in the Supreme Being, but because he simply refused to believe in miracles, although he has witnessed several himself!

I strongly think that one should believe in miracles. Life is too short to prove every single thing that happens to you through the world of science. I have had many a miracle. And I prefer to call my miracles, God!

The fact that I’m back to blogging after a full 18 day slumber by itself is a miracle for someone that gives little attention to routine. Thank God for me, I still haven’t considered blogging mundane. A stress-buster it is for me. And how I discovered blogging itself is a miracle. :)

But why am I talking about miracles? Because they happen to us in the most bizarre ways at the most bizarre time.

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Nevertheless, since I’ve been away from blogging for quite a while now and now that it’s improbable that I might be blogging regularly, here’s a little poem (?? composition, if you will) in response to a prompt from Sunday Scribblings.

An endeavor for knowledge may sometimes lead to blissful ignorance
Echoes of crude words and ill manners fading through the years
Eccentricity could be a boon, quirkiness a bane, after downing a couple of beers
Knowing the density of the catastrophe
Knowing when not to talk
Knowing when to smile for an answer
Knowing when to respond with a mime
Promises chiseled into the sands of time
Some kept, some broken prematurely, some twisted to suit convenience
Sonnets and tales, never did they seem more delirious
Memories of painted nails and parting lips
Of pale pink, to hot pink, to shocking pink
Eighty can still be an immature age, or so she thinks
A surreal feeling of holding hands
Comforting the blistered palm and hardened heart
Wishful of breaking open the time-capsule
Desirous of traveling back to the good days
When her hands were steadier
When her memory never failed
When promises sounded like music
But then there’s hope, and then there’s hope

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Congratulations to the ladies from Sunday Scribblings on their 100th prompt. You have never ceased to inspire me.

For more posts on time machine, go here!