A Woman Named Paris

I didn't meet any women in Paris but dreamed of mine with the outbursts of warm sunshine and the falling drops of rain. She was there on the wide avenues and narrow streets, sipping a glass of wine in a café with a red facade, leaning on me and crying of joy in front of the Nike of the Samotrace and holding my hand with every step I made along the cobblestones.

Paris isn't a city for a lonely man but I was not alone after all. My father and I were on a private vacation for a whole week. We were joined by my sisters and got to spend such precious time together. Yet in moments of elation, in instances of edification I was haplessly solitary and I missed her by my side terribly.

I came back three days ago yet I'm still living out of my suitcase. The last month or two seem to have been a perpetual trip. I called Fares today from my hotel room in Damascus. He was surprised that I'm not home. He didn't even know that I had left very early this morning. I'm sorry Son, I'll make it up to you tomorrow. The problem is that I've been suffering from PVDS for the last couple of days. Ah, PVDS, that's Post Vacation Depression Syndrome. I'll be very surprised if such a psychological condition doesn't exist. Well, I know I have it in chronic form. Every time I return from a vacation I get utterly depressed. In fact, I was feeling so down yesterday I wrote it on my wall in facebook, a site I wholeheartedly despise. Why am I still there, I myself wonder. I honestly don't have a straight answer. It's one way, I guess, to break the isolation imposed by space and time. A few of my dear friends even got worried about me and I thank them for that. Don't mind me please as I have an indestructible spirit. Falling down becomes a sweet memory once we're up and running again even if we were let down by someone close. I feel sorry already for privately blaming a friend who couldn't defend herself. I withdraw everything she never heard. She was probably acting in what she thought was the best interest of all concerned.

Back to Paris... Ahhh, what can I write about her! She's a beautifully sexy woman in her early forties. Elegantly dressed, hair swept up and clipped at the back, alluring blue eyes, a string of pearls for a smile, a seductive cleavage with small bouncy boobs, a firm butt, perfect legs, tiny feet and pedicured toes walking down the Champs-Elysées with a wake of perfumed dreams lingering in her trail. I've been privileged to meet her finally after the other European cities I visited over the years. Apparently, I've saved the best for last as there isn't any other place that can even come close. Paris is indeed center of the world, splendor of civilization, cradle of democracy, defeater of monarchy, fortress of resistance, gallery of arts, salon of literature... and satin-sheeted wrought iron bed for lovers. I can't recall all the intimate places I touched in her. I had a whole week, seven days of uninhibited love making and I'm glad I've somehow covered every little exquisite spot of her naked body.

Disconcerting how my mind seems to be jumping all over. Bringing seemingly unrelated matters together in one single post. Am I really writing about Paris the city? Am I hallucinating after my depression? Am I celebrating my recovery? Am I for real or am I only babbling senselessly. I mixed a woman with my sadness, a kid with my friends, betrayal with my apology, Paris with my love making in the hope of reaching the truth. I needed to do that, I had to pick up the pieces before I can smile again. Once I start smiling my heart pumps happiness in my bloodstream. And I just felt it, after eluding me for thirty six hours, echoing around my ribcage, my heart is bursting with a fit. My lungs, my belly, my ass, every cell of my body taken by surprise, swept away with contagious laughter. I'm me again.


Unknown said…
my dear Abufares, I totally understand your feeling and have experienced PVDS even months after a vacation. I don't blame you. She is beautiful and elegant. I was telling a friend just last night that it's no wonder Paris has the reputation she does. How often do you find such a perfect place where every corner is overflowing with character and history. How did the French keep getting it right in producing such a beautiful city over hundreds of years?

I will never forget being awakened by the click clack of the heals of a beautiful French woman on my first night in Paris. It was perhaps the best wake up call I will ever receive.
Gabriela said…
Maybe you had to get all mixed up in order to rearrange your own puzzle. I'm pretty sure you are doing better now.
And I guess there is a PVDS!
All the best.
Dubai Jazz said…
PVDS is real. But it goes away as soon as you settle back into the good old routine, at least that how it is with me. I have a theory: it’s probably a sub-conscious reaction to the life-style one is accustomed too. It’s your psyche’s peculiar way of telling you, after it had come fresh and invigorated from vacation, that no, please don’t put me back through the old routine. I could be wrong though.

I like your description of Paris, man, it’s probably one of the best tributes written about the city! There’s one side of Paris that you had probably kept to yourself. Not out of selfishness, but probably because you opted to promote all the right things about her. I mean, isn’t she promiscuous? Wayward and mysterious? I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been there yet.
KJ said…
I had PVDS too, but I knew the cause, and thankfully we have parted ways.

Perhaps it is time to NOT settle into the good ol routine, and make your own now.
Katia said…
Hi Abufares,

I'm glad you're getting over your PVDS. I've been back for a week and I'm still fighting it. But that's me: I PVDS hard and long.

As for Paris, what a tribute! Reading it pushed me towards new resolutions: more spontaneous last minute weekends in Paris for me, just like it used to be. I'll even take the PVDS with that.

Too bad you couldn't make a jump to Brussels!

@DJ: Paris promiscuous? Would you call a successful, confident, flirty woman promiscuous? I'd say definitely not! Just let her live her life head up high, no judgement... and enjoy her while you can ;-)
Mariyah said…
Ah, Abu Fares, only you could bring together a collection of seemingly unrelated thoughts and make them so intrinsically cohesive - and very beautifully at that. How wonderful for you to have experienced Paris to her fullest! And how lucky for Paris to have had you in her streets, and cafes, museums, and perhaps those lovely, tucked away, places where tourists rarely go. ;) I'm so glad you have beaten down your PVDS, which I think everyone has experienced at least once in their lifetime. I know I have. Welcome back. I hope you find some equally rewarding pleasures in your regular routine.

@Katia: Bravo!! Well said!! :)
Abufares said…
You know the funny thing is that I just checked online and actually found something called Post Vacation Blues or PTD (Post Travel Depression).
Good. I wasn't imagining then.

Paris is an eternal city with beauty beyond words. No wonder the French are snobby. Over the years I came to discover that residents of primate cities (capitals in general) tend to be snobby ;-) Well, being a Parisian probably justifies it, or at least make it bearable for us, sons and daughters of the provinces to accept...
Abufares said…
I reshuffled the deck of cards and got a great hand.
I'm on top of the world.
You're absolutely right, we need to gather the loose ends every once in a while to make sense of the chaos.
Thank you dear friend.
Abufares said…
I know of very few men who manage to get themselves in trouble with women as much as you do;-)
Is it on purpose or you really screw up every time. LOL.
I said what I wanted to say about Paris knowing fully that I can't do her justice. She's pretty beyond my humble words.
I've always been a small town boy and don't feel at home in large cities. But if I were forced to there's no place better than Paris to choose.
Promiscuous??? The girls already answered you :-)
Abufares said…
I would just love to ... fuck it all. May be one day. Hopefully, one day.
Abufares said…
I really wish we could've met. Hopefully next time.
Spending weekends in Paris and living in Brussels that would be soooooooo coooooooool.
Drinking Duvel every weeknight then a glass of Bordeaux on weekends...
Life as it was meant to be!!!
Abufares said…
Only you could make me feel this way when you comment here. I mean if it were not for keeping face in front of all the others I would have melted for you.
How can I answer that: "And how lucky for Paris to have had you..."

Where are you girl??? Wherever, that is, it would be the nicest place in the world for me to be at right now ;-)

And DJ, there's a lesson for you here, LMAO.
Dubai Jazz said…
Oh my, had I known my comment would elicit such a passionate and intelligent response I'd have been more careful with my wording :)

Katia, atta girl! IMHO though, there's no reason that anybody, be them promiscuous or not, shouldn't hold their head high.

Finally, allow me to dedicate this song to you.

Dubai Jazz said…
Baseeta ya Abu Fares, you're hanging me out to dry at the first trial even though you've been my mentor for long long time...

No wonder I keep screwin' up..LOL
Joseph said…
Welcome Back. “Only that, and that is all” .If I may and with all respect.
If I add just one more word Abufares it would be like ugly weed breaking up through Mariyah’s beautiful garden.
Isobel said…
Well, where can you go after Paris? Or is there a need to go anywhere else? It sounds like the pinnacle of destinations!! You describe "her" so beautifully in your own inimitable way, Abu Fares. I'm glad you're feeling better and have been able to regale us with your experiences once again! Perhaps one day I'll be lucky enough to write a comparable post - at least about Paris! :)
Abufares said…
I couldn't resist the temptation.
Well anyway... It seems that I'm a very bad mentor. You know it's exactly the same as saying that you were a very bad pupil.
lol lmao lol lmao
Abufares said…
Well I agree with you. Mariyah does have a way of making the whole world more beautiful.
Abufares said…
Just in case you didn't know. No matter how bad I feel, once I hear from you... I'm on top of the world :-)
A comparable post by you??? You must be kidding. But wait, I have a big surprise for you.
Anonymous said…
A little wine, a little brie, a stary night, soft jazz, Paris an intoxicating city! ... no wonder you felt down afterwards. The cliche, life is a rollercoster comes to mind, too many ups and downs. But it sure is good to hear that you have managed to stay again on top!

I have been on the down side this last few weeks... I suppose it will pass.

take care,

w.b. yeats
Anonymous said…
PS. Beautiful pictures : )

w.b. yeats
Abufares said…
@w.b. yeats
I was starting to worry about you.

I was pinned to the wagon wheel as it tumbled down. Then, it gyrated slower and slower, flatter and flatter until it came to a compete stop. Right side up as far as I'm concerned. I released the straps around my wrists, stood up, brushed off my jeans, smiled and let my heart roar with laughter.

I hope it will pass soonest with you too :-)
Fantasia said…
I love Paris. I do ... I however, see her more as a Grand Old Dame. Vienna, Barcelona, Prague and Florence .... How I love them too.
I am on Vacation myself. On a tiny rock in the middle of the Carribean - and here I have found a small slice of Paradise.
I am amazed at the world, at it's diverse gems ... at the wonder we can see if we venture beyond our safety zone. So much to take in ... so little time.

But yes, Paris ... She remains one of the must sees in a lifetime.

As I enter my second week of vacation, I know that i will go home too soon and find both torture and comfort in the return. Once again dear friend, you have found words to express what I often can only feel.
Abufares said…
Have fun on your tiny rock and come back to tell us (almost all).

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