Licking the final scoop of my stracciatella, I stared up to look at the monumental façade of the ST. Peter’s Basilica and It blew my mind!
I could not take my eyes off Michelangelo’s Dome of the Basilica with the statues of the Saints on the top colonnade.
But it was Michelangelo’s Pietà in the right aisle amongst all the finest art of the Renaissance, where I lingered longer than usual and sucked from it a strange serenity that lingered along that evening when I walked around Piazza di Spagna, the Roman Parliament and losing myself in the meandering streets of the city which was then lit up in orange and yellow then; map-less and with more supply of gelato in different flavors, it lingered on when I cramped myself on the narrow bed of a visibly miserable hostel room that night, it lingered on over the next four happy days in Rome and it lingers on today even though, I woefully realize that it will probably phase out, like all the most amazing sensations sometimes do… A revisit to the city is never an assurance to get the same sensations back from the first visit. It is only in these brief moments when the goodness of what lies in the outer world focuses and seeps inside us and fills us up which nothing in the world can replace or limit.
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