A Day in Paris
Saturday, around ten in the morning, in front of a black hot coffee and a freshly baked croissant, I switched on my CD player and reached out for only one CD: "The Wonderful World of Edith Piaf".
Two days before, in Vienna, Edith Piaf was the lead singer in our future dream. Kara told me: “when we meet next in Paris, as we are drinking together, strolling on the path of our mutual pleasures, we will listen to Edith Piaf”. I replied confidently: “sure thing, I have all Piaf albums!” As if the problem would be to find Piaf songs. There is a fine line between confidence and stupidity!
2 days later, here I was in Paris, alone, listening to Edith Piaf. The strong, magnificent and vibrant voice of Piaf was pouring in my ears. Song after song, melody after melody, tears started rolling from my eyes. Many tears were poured; many tears were swallowed, all with many different tastes.
Tears of Remembrance – the scent and the taste of some exquisite perfume. A scent that will stay for forever in my memory and a taste that was starting to fade away. I swallowed each one of these tears and the memory of this exquisite taste came back very vividly; I wanted these tears to keep rolling down forever.
“Ask, you will not be given!”.
Tears of Separation – different kind of tears, with a different kind of taste. The acid taste of the last glass of wine before the feast is over, before delving into oblivion. The hallow taste of knowing that it is the end of the night. The empty taste of thinking that it might be the last night. My fate, make these tears stop! I want to go back to sleep and dream that this night never ended.
“Dream, you will not be fulfilled!”
Tears of Impotence – furious tears, very hard to weep. They came in abundance, they were burning, they wanted to destroy all obstacles, they wanted to eliminate all hurdles, but they couldn't! All they could do was to remind me that somewhere far from me, beyond the big sea, there is a woman, an affectionate woman, a beautiful woman, and she is suffering. A woman torn between her "natural instinct" and her "artificial mind". A woman lost between believing (without thinking) that life is only about love & joy and thinking (without believing) that this same life is about compromises and sacrifices. She feels what should be done, what needs to be changed yet she thinks that this is beyond what she can do, that this is her destiny… If those tears could speak, they would shout: "Run. Get the hell away. Escape. Free yourself from your self-made prison. Do it while it is time! Run, run, and don’t look back!"
“Fight, you will not be freed!”
Tears of Solitude - cold and bitter tears, very hard to swallow. These tears are a medicine to my tormented soul, a medicine I am starting to get addicted to, a medicine that is losing its healing power on me, a medicine that is getting rid of my weak branches and strengthening my deep roots, a medicine that is preparing my soul for a more colorful spring.
“Think, you will not be enlightened!”
Tears of Hope - gentle and deceitful tears. When she talked about "A Day in Paris", did she mention tears? Did she mention separation? Did she mention impotence? Did she mention solitude? No, she didn't! She talked about a dream, a fantasy, and a hope. She said it will happen to her someday, and she will be with somebody she likes, somebody like me. She said it will be so pleasant, enjoyable, timeless, and unique. She did talk about a dream, a fantasy, and a hope!
“Hope, you will not live!