New York in Spring
New York in spring!!!
I walked in New York today for hours, and kept wondering how much I had changed in the last eight years. Then, I noticed the beautiful tall buildings and the fabulous stores and today I could not take my eyes off the flowers everywhere. The buildings seemed invisible to me and even the city appeared beautiful. Specially the tulips!! Red, yellow, white... and oh so many colors.... It seemed strange that flowers were everywhere in this concrete jungle, especially around office buildings, where not many had the time to take in the beauty...
I remember the smell of nuts, the kind they sell on the stands in the air then and for some reason no such stands were visible. Around me, people were working; in the hope that some day they will reach their dreams, and I kept thinking how hard it is to reach what one thinks is the end of the rainbow, especially in New York.
My husband wanted to show me his new office. He had come a long way from being worried about his first job in this country and whether he would lose it. (He would, exactly after three months in the country) The floor to ceiling windows whispered of things I felt estranged from, but was happy to see him so happy. He wanted to take me out for lunch and I felt hesitant, trying to relive the days when he and I ate at roadside stands and asked if we could eat roadside food. He would not hear of it, taking me to the best Greek restaurant in the city, wanting to share his joy with me of being able to pamper me. Why then did it make me sad? Eight years ago, I would not have even thought we could ever enter a restaurant where they post no menus at the door and here I was, nonchalantly spending what would have paid for a month’s food in one meal. Is this the stuff irony is made of? I was not sure whether I enjoyed this meal more or the countless times we ate at dhabas, laughing as the rotis came faster than we could eat.
I noticed wound up expressions on people, as though all emotions had gotten knotted up inside them. The anxiety to reach their own rainbows seemed evident in the brisk walking pace and the resolute sense of purpose. I could easily tell the tourist from the resident. The tourist had an easy smile, happy to be at the centre of the universe of countless Hollywood movies, a mom pointing out Bergdorf Goodman to her children as one of the most expensive stores in the world.
It was the children who laughed and ran around joyfully in the park. I bought some chocolates for my kids, looked at how the Central Park brought joy to so many people with its natural beauty, ever generous, and free for all. The sky was blue, the air crisp, a lovely day for walking, and suddenly I realized, I could be happy anywhere. And the feeling was strangely liberating.
I walked in New York today for hours, and kept wondering how much I had changed in the last eight years. Then, I noticed the beautiful tall buildings and the fabulous stores and today I could not take my eyes off the flowers everywhere. The buildings seemed invisible to me and even the city appeared beautiful. Specially the tulips!! Red, yellow, white... and oh so many colors.... It seemed strange that flowers were everywhere in this concrete jungle, especially around office buildings, where not many had the time to take in the beauty...
I remember the smell of nuts, the kind they sell on the stands in the air then and for some reason no such stands were visible. Around me, people were working; in the hope that some day they will reach their dreams, and I kept thinking how hard it is to reach what one thinks is the end of the rainbow, especially in New York.
My husband wanted to show me his new office. He had come a long way from being worried about his first job in this country and whether he would lose it. (He would, exactly after three months in the country) The floor to ceiling windows whispered of things I felt estranged from, but was happy to see him so happy. He wanted to take me out for lunch and I felt hesitant, trying to relive the days when he and I ate at roadside stands and asked if we could eat roadside food. He would not hear of it, taking me to the best Greek restaurant in the city, wanting to share his joy with me of being able to pamper me. Why then did it make me sad? Eight years ago, I would not have even thought we could ever enter a restaurant where they post no menus at the door and here I was, nonchalantly spending what would have paid for a month’s food in one meal. Is this the stuff irony is made of? I was not sure whether I enjoyed this meal more or the countless times we ate at dhabas, laughing as the rotis came faster than we could eat.
I noticed wound up expressions on people, as though all emotions had gotten knotted up inside them. The anxiety to reach their own rainbows seemed evident in the brisk walking pace and the resolute sense of purpose. I could easily tell the tourist from the resident. The tourist had an easy smile, happy to be at the centre of the universe of countless Hollywood movies, a mom pointing out Bergdorf Goodman to her children as one of the most expensive stores in the world.
It was the children who laughed and ran around joyfully in the park. I bought some chocolates for my kids, looked at how the Central Park brought joy to so many people with its natural beauty, ever generous, and free for all. The sky was blue, the air crisp, a lovely day for walking, and suddenly I realized, I could be happy anywhere. And the feeling was strangely liberating.
posted by Sumita | 8:22 AM
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