It was the morning of a beautiful Fall Sunday in New England. As I continued to follow my morning ritual of going out in nature immediately after waking up, I notice the spectrum of fall colors started narrowing, leaves were falling off at a faster pace, dew on leaves were diminishing, and a gloomy weather was making way for the Sun to come out of the morning fog.
Last few days have been a gift to my eyes — the sheer scale of colors, the transition of how landscapes look from fog to sunshine, their reflection in still water bodies from ponds, lakes and rivers, and the beautiful change of cycle trees have to go through from summers to winters.
My fall vacation was over, and the day ahead will have to be a long drive back to our monotonous lives in cities. I checked Google Maps, and it subtly scared me with two things —
- It would be a 8 hour long drive, with probable traffic slowdowns — Okay!
- The last hour drive will have to be through the New York City — Wait, what?
There are some dreams and scenarios our brains can never contemplate. I must have had a desire of walking in the New York City, but driving?
My finger nails diminished.
At least the first 7 hours will be fun, I asserted. The drive began…
More than 7 hours passed like a fresh breeze — a special thanks to some amazing company who successfully kept doing karaoke of songs I rarely listen, somehow successfully managed to exhaust my mobile data, successfully brought out my deep dark secrets through a car game, tried their best to listen 4 minutes of a song of my choice, and not sleep even with their bodies pleading them.
While checking navigation, it showed distance to destination: 20 Miles, and I knew I was on the verge of facing my low confidence of driving in the city.
George Washington Bridge, and Hudson River on the right. The tall skyscrapers of Washington Heights Neighborhood on the left. New York on the right, Washington on the left.
I felt like a prisoner of time, who has to drive between his past and his present.
All memories drowned me like a gigantic wave of tsunami — the first visit to NYC in the first week of my Masters, the first day as an intern, the first day as a Brooklyn resident, the last day of internship, the first night out in the city streets, multiple solo walks in different neighborhoods, and the last visit in the last week of my Masters.
People usually ask me which city I love the most? — Usually I say, the city I am living now — Seattle!
People ask me what do I like: nature or cities? — Mostly I say, nature.
But,
- How can I not love the city which was there, when no one else was?
- How can I not love the city which helped me admire different cuisines?
- How can I not love the city which made me who I am today?
- How can I not love the city which fogged my brain with just the view of a bridge?
- How can I not love the city which shed all my tears after what seemed like a never ending drought?
- How can I not love the city which literally made me speechless a few minutes back?
- How can I not love cities, when I am getting these questions for a city?
Amidst all these unconscious ravaging thoughts, I was interrupted by a question from someone —
Someone: How are you feeling back in the city?
Me: I am speechless.
Also, there was also a song playing in the car —
The first words I listened were —
Welcome to New York, it’s been waitin’ for you
Welcome to New York, welcome to New York
The wave returned.
In a nutshell, here I was. After spending the last two years in trying to explore places around, trying to constantly develop myself, and be as active as possible — the moment which broke me down and crush my bones, was a simple few minutes of drive through home.
2 years 9 months and 23 days, plus 8 hours of driving with never ending traffic —
The welcome to the New York City was worth every single moment
