Oxford - Charming City.

Yes. We were in Oxford. It was mid-day, realizing the fact that we had to carry back-packs all by ourselves, while walking around the city. I had to have burger, which was terribly prepared. We never had a clue about the must-see places in Oxford. The Usual way that I get with, was to ask a few strangers. Try to grab their fullest attention. Though they would have had queer revenge inside, during the chat, I never really bothered. So with a few pamplets in the hand provided by the local city council here in Oxford, we saw we were nearing "The Ashmolean Museum". The first museum that I had visited, which was nothing but mammoth display of artefacts, statues, carvings and figurines spanning atleast half of history,that existed in this world.

A perfect place to start a day. We were four in numbers when we entered, and in a while, there was a girl, probably in teen, speaking  french taking an  engrossed look at a mummifying process flowchart, right next to me. Suddenly I was alone. But the realization was seemingly delayed. A few rooms shocked me in terms of captured information, based on archeaological and objective evidence. I thought history is all, that is old and righteous.


 
Predominantly roman, greek and european civilisations were captivating the most, for it was immense by size and meticulous by detail. Honestly I enjoyed every inch of it, reading through them, inscription by inscription, bullet by bullet and badge by badge. Some thing inside me, took my attention from  the nataraja statue (Lord Shiva, The Hindu god, authority for destroying) with his dancing legs touching a circle all around him. I suddenly figured out. While I was in India, about an year back, I never really bothered to visit a museum or a memorial. Justification would tell that I was otherwise busy. But the resonating truth was the opposite. I had time, but not the virtue. I mean the virtue of realizing the value of things, when they are around you. It is a subtle indication that I overlooked simplicity. I walked past without acceding the fact that I was missing them. But now,I know that I am enjoying it. Nevertheless it was a visual feast, of value embedded within every piece of the colossal art rooms inside the ashmolean.

We didnt agree on any particular spot, to join after the trip inside the museum. But before we entered, we shelved our bags in a cloak room, in the lower basement level. I rushed to the cloak room and found that a few lockers were out of keys, which meant that the rest of the crew was inside still digging history to the deepest roots. Attacked by mood-swing, I walked tired out of the main lobby and saw Irene, one of my friends trying to capture an image on her camera. It was photo-session time. We were just nitpcking and clicking a few shots facing the road side view of the ashmolean. It was getting dark. Still a two of them were inside. A restless feeling cramped us. But patience was also a virtue. Also we thought, we can afford to wait until they return. They came smiling, natural and we were trying to get to an waiting agreement immediately after a few exchanges about the heritage of the museum. Two hours of historic, captivating and sensual experience, that was so rich in flavour to have served us, quiet well at the end.

Oxford, supposedly, one of the oldest towns in England, was dense on the streets and the city centre buzzled with rampant exuberance of young and the teens, spending a day-off in Oxford. Appallingly less modest among the four of us, I initiated a question to a stranger, about getting around Oxford, with a tourist point of view. He replied "Well. There are colleges in and around Oxford, that you might try on". Honestly I was pre-occupied with a thought that Oxford University had a main building or a chapel or memorial building to glorify the ancient Oxford heritage. I was wrong. He continued his opinion on touring Oxford and said "You should go to Churchpark College, for it is nicer with a riverside front. Also has a church that is popular among the oldest Baptist Churches in the England. So we walked past the bazaar road and headed straight to a cathedral in fornt of a moor fenced on its edges, bordering a river.

 I knew for sure that I already wanted to go inside the church. We inquired and got student offers for entry tickets and we were in front of a massive square garden immediately after a few steps inside the college grounds. The buildings were very old, but for the crowd that gave the visits every day, year around and every year. Irene was already taking the camera, and we were ready to pose for a few clicks. Photos. Memories. Puristic Feelings. Blah Blah. There were inscriptions on the walls signifying religious stories about Christ. Nice shadows cast the inner facades of broken glass, reinforced with cemented walls. Silence. Candle lights. The next wonderful moment was when we were standing in front of the Harry potter's majestic dinner table inside the chapel hall. Photos. Peace. Awe-struck. Next was to walk by the river side.

Crazy thing happened. After we did exit, we walked a few yards to cross a stream of the river oxford. Swan is not extinct yet. There is proof, apart from the baltic sea photos. Crazy thing. We asked a man, as to whether there was anything that could be considered after ending a day in Oxford. He had beer can in his left hand and a strapped pet dog to his right. He said something about a similar place in proximity. But he didnt leave. He asked us to donate him some money. Sorry that was lame. He begged. He said he was starving. WTF. With a beer in his hand??. I thought poverty at its pompous exhibition. Mario, one among the crew commented. "If they say something, they ask something in return". Favour. It is not travel guidance. It is business". Mario was an enterpreneur back in his country. He liked business. I mean deal-making, discounts and selling. That is his forte. But he was right.

We kept walking until we saw a sliding array of steps descending down to the oxford river. We sat there. Blissful. Fulfuilling. Heartened. Photos again. But the less fanciful ones.

Sensual capturing by Toliq, Our "Chemical brother". Sorry it is not the musical band. He is our funding partner. Very patient, composed and intelligent. I was once again hit by the ripples of the rivulet. A perfect place to start your dream. Manifestation is that, If you have a dream, a motive, it is tough to screw yourself. Better have one. Might be the silliest, but not the toughest at all. Enjoy traveling. Walking. Strolling and much more. Take the opportunity to explore. Every hour. Every minute. Don't look way forward from you. Happy Journey.!!