Damascus, City of Hearty Roses,
Istanbul, City of the tumultuous Bosphorus,
and Bucharest … is, by right, the Capital of Culture, for me and to me.
Following the state of emergency caused by the pandemic, Bucharest has flourished as an effervescent city.
At least, at weekend it surely has.
Calea Victoriei, the Victory Avenue, has bloomed into colourful and picturesque café trottoirs, restaurants and pizza “houses”.
On Weekends, Calea Victoriei has been closed to cars and open to and for, us, pedestrians.
We have exchanged roles with cars.
The Avenue closed to them, and open, for us.
We can walk in its heart, on weekends.
“Walk in the middle of the street, lady, not on the sidewalk. Otherwise, I am being paid in vain, today,” a policeman told me, a while ago.
Street-staged theatre and activities for kids have become the norm.
Tribal dance music has reverberated in the core of the Avenue. Youngsters playing the violins or singing solo, to our sheer delight.
Beautiful couples exchanging looks, kisses and, or hugs strolling, hand in hand.
People enjoying life, differently, heartily.
After having been packed in our houses, after seeing how our liberties, our very freedom to move, to walk, to drive have been challenged and not knowing what we are facing, we are all enjoying the present instant.
And this — raises the vibration of Bucharest, considerably.
Because we are activating the egregore energy and feeling, the very joy of life.
Maybe this is the greatest teaching of the pandemic: breathe now, enjoy the moment now, and make the best of everything -- Now!
Kids playing, rolling and skating.
Electric scooters have taken over.
Couples slide as One, on a scooter, red rose or, at times, pink roses resting on the handlebar.
Along the way, trees are watching us, as dear companions.
And trees have been the very couch to read on, in the Cismigiu Gardens, the shoulder to lean on, and the Divine “hand” to enable me to calibrate the unusually intense, electrifying, DNA shifting waves of energy my being has received as of the beginning of this year.
"He who ‘makes' real things is he who knows the secret of making them.”
— Mircea Eliade, book The Forge and the Crucible
Damn the pandemic!
Rose the pandemic!
I came to Bucharest at the age of 9.
But, the summer of 2021 has been the best period of time to indulge and feel Bucharest. I haven't travelled abroad in the past couple of years. Whereas the past decade, I must have spent it travelling and searching for my "self".
I have attracted and manifested my soul "selves", right over here, in the very heart of Bucharest.
In the very heart of Calea Victoriei, where, for the first time, I have seen many, many, many gentlemen wearing bow ties, heading to the one and only George Enescu music festival. And this — has felt like those times, when beautiful Bucharest was referred to as "Little Paris".
Those times, of the dandy writer — Ion Luca Caragiale.
One of The Four Romanian Classical Writers, alongside:
And thank you, Bucharest
Yes, it has been tough.
Yes, it is not getting any easier with this pandemic.
And yet — Bucharest, you exude your charming air, differently, following the pandemic.
For the eye of the beholder, you bear your charm as you rightfully should, dearest Bucharest.
The Equestrian Statue of King Carol I