Ideally, you would be in your Mediterranean parlor, leaning back on a sumptuously upholstered hassock with a warm bowl of Hariri soup. Right now, be that as it may, the rich solaces of Moroccan furniture appear to be outlandishly far away. Rather you end up strolling through the wet, tempestuous chill of a February morning at an hour so early that regardless it feels like yesterday. Gone are the lavish textures, striking hues, and cinnamon earth tones of Moroccan stylistic theme they have been supplanted by the solid reality of the encompassing city. You grasp your jacket against your trunk, planning to ward away the most exceedingly bad of the hail until the point when you achieve your first goal – the transport stop. As you get off the transport, you see the sparkling light of Moroccan lanterns sparkling. Each progression drags you further and advances from your prized Moroccan furniture. Be that as it may, you have gotten ready for this; the vision of your Mediterranean parlor will manage you for the duration of the day until the point when you can come back to its inviting merriment.
The transport is moving close, and you think about whether you will experience the surly transport driver today. Eagerly, you move on board and the surly driver welcomes you with a contemptuous grunt. Be that as it may, you are not even there. The transport has as of now transformed into the Mediterranean parlor, moroccan lanterns are wherever gleaming their supernatural flare; the hardened pail seats have been supplanted by the generous pad of your most loved hassock, its refined luxurious upholstery buffering you against the attacks of an unfeeling society and Learn More. The noise of mobile phones and the consistent moan of the city soften away as you recall the peaceful comfort discovered just in your own Moroccan furniture.
This is your stop. A pressure driven moan goes with your jump from the transport steps, and you take to the walkway as though in a daze. Also, still the dreams of Moroccan furniture and the sparkling Moroccan lanterns enamor your creative energy. Smoke from a close-by ventilation pipe helps you to remember mint tea. Furniture shop windows attempt to bait you from your wander off in fantasy land with guarantees of current familiar luxuries, however you stay unsaid. Underneath your feet, the bond offers route to the provocative fractals of a Moroccan tile floor; the solidified solid way shows up as the extravagant hand-made Berber cover that embellishes the floor of your Mediterranean parlor. Also, inside the frosty puddles, you can see the impression of an extravagantly enriched Moroccan roof above you. In this world, you may stroll between the raindrops, unscathed by the neon lights that buzz negatively overhead; and in their place, you see just the sentimental gleam of hand fashioned Moroccan lanterns.
You have at long last touched base at the workplace where you have achieved innumerable bargains previously. The rotating entryway of the building has little to offer you in contrast with the unpredictably engraved access to your Mediterranean parlor. In Morocco, the entryways are intended to welcome visitors, tempting them with effortlessness and imaginativeness. Be that as it may, here in this present reality – the entryways appear to toss you out when they welcome you in. Your body may enter here, yet your psyche will stay transfixed with the outlandish feel of Moroccan stylistic layout. Associates welcome you with bowed heads and grave faces; and you understand that a considerable lot of them will experience their whole lives while never having seen the unpretentious excellence of Moroccan furniture.