Grant
Apprentice
- Jul 1, 2018
- 158
The Day the Bells Fell Silent
Paris, France 🇫🇷
Paris, France 🇫🇷
Charles De Gaulle Airport - 08:24 CEST
The early morning sun was rising over Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport as the SunExpress airplane gently touched down on the runway before taxiing through the maze of taxiways that crisscrossed the airport. Gulzar Safi and Parwiz Samadi, two Afghan gentlemen seated side by side, both tried to catch a glimpse out of the small window as they watched the jetway roll forward and latch onto the plane. They were eager to disembark after having taken two connecting flights just to get there. Within seconds of the jetway attaching, the engines powered down, and the familiar seatbelt sign flickered off, accompanied by its soft, indistinct chime. Movement and quiet chatter quickly filled the cabin.
Parwiz glanced at Gulzar and smiled. “I’m going to be glad to get off this plane. My back feels like it’s been through a battle.”
Gulzar smirked and looked down the rows behind them. “Yeah… It’ll be nice to feel some fresh air. Which row were Majid and Ehsan in again?”
Parwiz glanced back, gesturing vaguely. “They’re somewhere over there. We’ll meet up after we're through passport control.”
As the plane began to disembark, the two men moved into the aisle, weaving their way through the crowd blocking their path. Once clear, they strolled freely into the terminal, the cool air of the building a welcome relief after hours in the cabin. Overhead signs glowed softly, guiding them toward baggage claim. They passed cafes opening for the day, travellers dragging wheeled suitcases, and airport staff moving briskly between gates. The other two Afghan men soon caught up, and the group fell into easy conversation, their laughter occasionally echoing in the spacious hall. They headed toward Passport Control. The queue stretched ahead, passengers lining up patiently. Gulzar was the first to step forward, passports and visa in hand, ready for inspection.
The French Border Officer glanced at Gulzars' paperwork, particularly eying the visa and noticing it was issued for work-related visits. Gulzar shuffled slightly as he adjusted his bag on his shoulder. The border officer began questioning the nature of the work being undertaken in the country. Gulzar quickly replied, unfaltering in his words: "Business. We're here to trial trading on the Paris Stock Exchange and maybe fit in a bit of sightseeing during our downtime. There isn't much trading out where we come from, so it's something new. It's the same for my colleagues behind." Gulzar gestured behind him to Parwiz, Ehsan and Majid. The border officer nodded and quickly stamped the visa and passport before allowing Gulzar through. One by one, each of the men approached and had their visas stamped before moving on into the arrivals hall.
The glass doors of the airport slid open with a hiss as the four weary men stepped into the warm glow of the Parisian morning. It was rush hour, and the taxi queue stretched far down the curb—travellers jostling for position, some heading into the city, others bound for the suburbs. A van pulled up and began unloading passengers. As a woman at the front of the line moved toward it, Ehsan stepped forward, seized her shoulder, and pushed her aside with a low, gruff command. “Get the next one.” Without waiting for a response, the men climbed into the van. Gulzar leaned forward from the back seat, holding out a slip of paper with two addresses on them.
The driver glanced across the group, calculating the route in silence before offering a polite nod and easing the van into motion.
Nearly forty minutes passed in the cramped taxi, the ride marked by stilted attempts at conversation—brief, awkward exchanges hampered by the language barrier. Eventually, the Seine came into view through the right-side window, its waters catching the morning light. Beyond it, the towering form of Notre Dame Cathedral rose into the skyline, commanding attention. The men fell silent, exchanging brief glances before turning their eyes back to the view. Crossing a nearby bridge, the driver steered the van toward the cathedral and came to a stop in the courtyard at its entrance. Gulzar and Parwiz stepped out first, nodding solemnly to the others as the taxi pulled away and vanished into traffic, leaving a faint trail of exhaust in the still air.
Parwiz moved slowly toward the entrance, his steps hesitant, as if he were unsure whether to proceed further. Gulzar lingered near the curb, pulling out a cigarette pack with unsteady fingers. He lit one, inhaled, and then offered it to Parwiz, who shook his head without looking back. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The distant toll of a bell echoed from the cathedral tower. Gulzar returned the pack to his coat pocket, exhaled sharply, and stared up at the ancient stone façade. Once Gulzar finished his cigarette, he flicked it to the pavement, crushed it under his heel, and gave Parwiz a light tap on the shoulder. "Lets go" mumbled Gulzar. Without a word, they moved forward together, joining the slow-moving queue leading into the historic cathedral.
In the car, Ehsan and Majid sat in silence for the rest of the ride, doing their best to ignore the French taxi driver’s off-key singing as he cranked up the radio to belt out his favourite song. Both men stared out the windows, watching the Seine slip out of view as they crossed the Pont Alexandre III into the heart of the city. From the left side, the Eiffel Tower rose above the rooftops, its spire outlined in the golden haze of the morning sun—a postcard-perfect view that reminded them why Paris was so celebrated around the world. After twenty minutes of musical torture, the taxi finally pulled over across the road from La Défense, the sleek financial district housing Euronext and the French Stock Exchange. Ehsan, already in a foul mood, tossed a random handful of euros onto the driver’s lap and stepped out without a word. Majid, smirking, lingered just long enough to butcher a farewell: “Ay revooor, Monsoor,” he said, drawing a confused glance from the driver before climbing out after him.
Alexander
