New York - the Dream Called a City

Posted on the 07 June 2013 by Rajrupa @irajrupa
New York. No, not the movie. But the city. The real, actual city of New York. A visit to this city confirmed a long standing conviction of mine – that I am a city person. Nothing makes me happier than to have a little space of my own to live in the city – amidst the center of all the actions.

A view of Manhattan from the Empire State Building

I loved those Concrete buildings - so tall that you have to bend your neck as far back as probably possible to be able to see their peaks. They looked so beautiful when the sun reflected from them. If the busy roads at 2 AM in the morning, the road side food joints bustling with people from all ethnicities, the beautiful bridges thickly dotted with yellow cabs, the brilliant billboards and the colourful China Town boggle your mind down, don’t worry; just take a walk to the East River Side Port. The serene calmness of the vast water is sure to calm you down. And if you want more, something that will take you out of breath, then take a subway down to Exchange Place in New Jersey and stand at the dock by the Hudson River. This was how the city had looked when we had gone down there: The city sure is enchanting. It casts its spell on anyone and everyone and I was not an exception. I fell in love with the city as soon as I had had the first glimpse of its skyline. But this post is not yet another travelogue of the city which has it all. I roamed the city, visited all its attractions, was amazed by most of them but what fascinated me most was its people, so varied, so versatile. One day, at the subway station, I saw an elderly lady who had rainbow coloured hair, yet was dressed in a plain black suit. Nobody looked at her, as if this was the most normal thing: to wear a formal suit with rainbow hair. But uncouth as I was, I couldn’t help gaping. Then suddenly but slowly, a deep admiration grew inside me – not for the woman but for the city. I noticed two men, holding hands and kissing each other standing in a queue to enter the 9/11 memorial at the World Trade Center. I found an elderly man soundly asleep on a corner table in the Starbucks on the 42nd street and the 5th avenue. Gluey strings of snots came steadily out of his nose. Everyone walked past him, including the table cleaners without even looking. Probably he came there every day. People ran around with a maddening speed, people sat back over a glass of beer. People rode skating boards, skating wheels, unicycles, bicycles, tri-cycles, rickshaws, taxis, cars, limousines, buses, trains, ferries and what not – in business suits, skirts, jeans, shorts, rags and gowns. People got married on the road making the whole traffic to come to a stop. People came out from posh looking residential buildings and then bought an ice cream cone from the vendor on the road and walked away happily with their cute dogs. So many people, each one so unique, each one with a purpose. We were told that every day on an average New York employ around 10,000,000 people. Among that only 2,000,000 actually live in the city while the rest travel in from around the city. It is indeed, a city of dreams, where so many found their footholds. This is the city where you can do just about everything and be just who you are without having to think about others. Anything and everything is acceptable. Anything and everything is doable. This is the place where you could experience the ultimate meaning of independence. This is the place where you could just walk all day long and never feel tired.  Because this city had, long back, decoded the formula of pure energy and scattered it in its air for its people to breathe in. Once you are in the city, you feel it too. You feel the young heart of the city beating excitedly resonating with your own, telling you that it is happy to see you, infecting you with its highly infectious happiness and making you feel obligated to say, by the time you leave, the cliched -        Love,

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