12 November 2021 | I was awestruck the very moment I saw Duomo di Milano while alighting from the subway stairs. It was drop-dead gorgeous, extremely more beautiful than how I have it imagined from the limited clips I vaguely remember off Milan, a local film from over a decade ago. The movie was about searching for something but finding something else in between, a plot I believe not so strange as everyone eventually find themselves riding the very same boat at some point, sometime, some way or another.

That afternoon, getting drowned in a sea of pigeons and tourists around Piazza Duomo brought me onto realization that I was, in fact, on that boat, slowly sinking in the moment. Despite the laser-focus, eyes-on-the-prize mantra I so believe I have in my core, somehow my plans are always rearranged that it oftentimes overwhelms me and ultimately causes my course being diverted, my goals being shifted, and my standards constantly being adjusted. So, right then and there, I made this solid pact with myself to, at any cost, finish this new thing I started and somehow regain the self-trust I lost due to a series of academic disappointments I incurred prior. I simply could not afford to sink on that very same quicksand I get trapped into and go through the same loathsome episode again.

Grateful how the Duomo, in all its commanding entirety and enchanting ways, pointed and sorted this whole sinking thing out. Here’s to hoping though, this time, to really find that something I have been looking for in coming here, even if I end up finding something else in the process.

The Duomo di Milano in Italian gothic style is the fifth largest church in the world – made in brick & pink-hued white marbles, of distinctive pinnacles & spires, and staggering number of gargoyles & statues. Its construction is stretched over the course of six centuries, but as some of the best things take time, the cathedral is in fact still unfinished with its completion being hindered by several factors as politics, funding, and so on – proof that some things could still be splendidly great despite being a work in progress. Originally planned to be built in terracotta stone, the Condoglian marble from Lake Maggiore was chosen for actual use later on – validating the beauty of changing plans every now and then, so apparent.