The Mysore Palace, of the Wodeyars, was painted in the most florescent colors. The pallet artists then used to create it might make Picasso shed a tear one time. It smiled rays of colors from every end of the spectrum in splendid beauty. Its domes reflected the ornate red as the tungsten in the bulb bent to acknowledge the paler beauty that was hidden to the naked eye. When dawn was on the horizon, the palace sat in its glory, shining like a nebula amongst the darkness. Thomas Edison’s last words were, “It’s beautiful over there. I don’t know where there is, but I believe it’s somewhere, and I hope it’s beautiful.” Looking at the palace all lit up, I spoke out loud, “It is here. And it is beautiful.”
Do read and share the second post in the ‘In My City’ series of The Blue Facade.