During one of my English lectures …
… I read a sentence that still gropes me with its implicit meaning behind it.
It talked about the spirit of a city. I didn’t understand the sentence till summer arrived in Passau.
When summer arrived, the entire city began to blossom. The soulful buildings resonated with the colourful flowers outside them. Red, yellow, purple, pink – like a burst of rainbow overshadowing Passau. A speck of orange amidst the bundle like the sun dominating above – one, but bright.
After the lecture, I took a walk in the heart of Passau, and I walked every street and stood at every corner just to find meaning in it. As I walked from one end to the other, I realized there was no end, just merely connections and trajectories. At this moment I began to ponder at the miraculous structure of those before us in the previous times. Have you ever wondered that maybe people wanted to be connected through these small and narrow paths, where every house looked the same, with a different colour and a story of its own? – like a small pot of flower outside the window deciphered how cosy the home is.
It’s one of those cosies and inviting places, where even the birds are pulled towards them, knowing no harm lingers there.
That day, I only walked through the city to experience the city’s spirit – I felt half empty and half full.
When summer arrived, the entire city began to blossom. The soulful buildings resonated with the colourful flowers outside them.
Memoona