The Delhi Walla in the French capital. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Just as The Delhi Walla started to feel Parisian during his trip to Paris, it was time to return to Delhi. Pari(s), merci and au revoir. See you soon. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22.

The Delhi Walla in the French capital. [By Jonas Moses Lustiger and Mayank Austen Soofi] A labyrinth of cobbled paths and mossy tombs, it is neither a Christian cemetery, nor a Muslim graveyard even though Christians, Muslims and Jews lie buried here. It is not even exclusively French; there are graves of Turkish, Armenian, Arab and Chinese migrants who made Paris their home. More than a cemetery, Père Lachaise seems to be a monument to the secular France. It witnessed the massacre that culminated the world’s first socialist revolution in 1871 known as Commune de Paris. Spread over 100 acres, the largest cemetery in Paris also reflects the violence that France went through the 20th century. Besides having memorials to the casualties of the First

The Delhi Walla in the French capital. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] It was raining. The Delhi Walla was in Illiers-Combray, a small town south of Paris that is believed to be the setting of some of the most memorable passages in the first volume of In Search of Lost Time, a novel by Marcel Proust considered to be the greatest monument to French literature. Carrying Swann's Way--the first volume--in my hand, I walked in Combray's vacant streets and gardens. The stream was crowded with black ducks. The alleys smelled of wet grass and wood. Cows mooed on the mossy grounds. The black and grey steeple of the church of Saint-Jacques followed me wherever I went. The town has a school named

The Delhi Walla in the French capital. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The trees of Delhi are unwieldy. The trees of Paris look more civilised. They are the gentlefolk in evening dress – courteous, healthy, symmetrical, and lovable. They pursue perfection. They seem to care only about the tender things in life. If you stand under these trees, you half-expect to hear them talking of Balzac and Stendhal and Ghalib. The shaded paths underneath, too, are so dignified and so so beautiful, that it is a challenge to be moved. Too much prettiness perhaps numbs the mind. La Trees de Paris 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12.

The Delhi Walla in the French capital. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The Delhi Walla is trying too hard to be a Parisian. I had macarons in Laduree. I read Le Monde by the Seine. I acquired Flaubert’s Sentimental Education from Shakespeare & Co. I spent an entire day with a second-hand paperback on Pont des Arts, a creaky wooden bridge where lovers attach iron padlocks on the railings, throwing away the keys into the river. I spent an evening in a French restaurant – complete with check curtains and paper table covers – where I had cassoulet and profiteroles. Perhaps this is not Parisian at all. Perhaps the real thing might be beyond me. In Paris, I have been meeting painters,

The Delhi Walla in the French capital. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The Delhi Walla began the dinner with a half-dozen oysters on the half shell. Then arrived the sole meunière. It was perfectly browned in a sputtering butter sauce with a sprinkling of chopped parsley on top. Then came the salade verte with a slightly acidic vinaigrette. The meal ended with a leisurely dessert of fromage. I then floated out of the door of S***** towards the Eiffel Tower, just a 10-minutes walk. It was close to midnight and I just had my first perfect meal in France. Suddenly as I came face-to-face with the Iron Lady, the rumblings started. It was Paris Potty, the French equivalent of Delhi Belly. Searching

The Delhi Walla in the French capital. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] Trees, fountains, flowers, cafes, sculptures, graveled paths, busts of important artists, a pond, and, of course, a palace, which serves as the seat of the French Senate. There is also a puppet theatre and the original model of the Statue of Liberty. To Parisians, Luxembourg Garden, opened to the public since 17th century, is linked to memories of childhood and youth. Located between the high schools and universities of the Latin Quarter and the apartment buildings of the 6th District’s Old Money families, the garden was built by Marie de Medicis, Queen of France and a native of Florence, who wanted to recreate her Italy in the French capital. The

The Delhi Walla in the French capital. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] The Delhi Walla is spending his days in Paris walking down the streets, stopping at cafes for a 1 euro coffee and browsing for English-language novels in second-hand bookstores. This is the first time I’m discovering that Delhi is not the center of the world. There are other cities, equally rich in histories, which are more beautiful and more civilized. In Paris, I examine the faces of people to find out what goes on in their mind as they look at me. To them, most probably, I’m just a brown man from Asia -- may be from Bangladesh. They would never know that I’m a writer from India who

The Delhi Walla in the French capital. [Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi] A family is having baguette and cheese. A middle-aged woman is jogging with her dog. A girl is kissing a boy. A young bride in white is walking with her man in a black suit. A pair of ‘sensitive boys’ is running together. The pigeons look better fed than their cousins in Delhi. The Delhi Walla spends his first day in Paris in the shade of Jardin du Palais Royal. Two symmetrical rows of trees make the garden. The benches are of wood and iron. All the trees reach to an equal height; their leaves look manicured to the same dimensions. The Louvre and the Seine is close, and the