TO EUROPE ON A WHIM

In my childhood, trips during vacations were mandatory

They were a nice way of escape from school and teacher’s oratory

We were all like-minded children, so the habit was generally customary

Some trips, among the many, remain memorable, however the places had been ordinary.

Sometime in the summers, two decades ago, we went to Europe on a whim

For me, it was a pilgrimage to the art corner of the world, as holy as a hymn

We traversed through countries, not a day went by that’s grim

The trip was of a fortnight’s duration, it ended on a note prim.

Once upon a time, I’d dreamt that I’d see Mona Lisa in the original,

In Paris, at the Louvre Museum where it’s kept, no other work was kept in its periphery marginal

Seen from any which direction, the smile remained the same, which’s abnormal

As a work of art, I thought there were several which outshone – but it stood alone as seminal.

I had tried to converse with people with my limited knowledge of French

I still remember that I’d made a fellow, all red-eyed, in sweat drenched

I sat beside my parents, who were enjoying coffee, with fists clenched

Our brief European getaway ended with memories entrenched.