I thought I will never be able to write about New York. What could I write that has never been written or sung or said about the greatest city in the world. But there is one moment that New York shared with me, that is my own.
It was on my second trip to USA from India, me and hubby were staying for a few days at a hotel in Manhattan and I was jet lagged. So I was up and about by 4 am and staring at my sleeping partner. I decided to go for a walk, I didn’t know what to expect, would the streets be empty, would it be cold or would I be scared?
I got out of my hotel and headed down to Times Square. Times Square was still lit up with last nights lights. The party goers had returned home and the early birds were up, it was twilight for NY. The newspaper was being delivered, milk vans starting their deliveries. The city had not slept, there was always a transient flow of people in the city, each time a different set of people. I was welcome here, I was a part of NY at this moment.
I reached central park, I had heard about central park but had never comprehended why a park would be so important till I had seen it and been there. But at five in the morning on a cold and wet morning it is still bustling with cyclists and joggers and racing enthusiasts and a few homeless people who had probably slept in the park that cold night.
A swarm of cycles passed by and all I could capture was their motion, they were as transient in this city of immigrants as any other but this was also home for them. I was sleepy now NY had cured my jet lag and I was ready to go back to bed.
I found a grocery shop which was setting up for the days business and had got a fresh delivery of flowers. I bought a rose and a cup of coffee and went back to snuggle up next to my sleeping love.