" You cannot travel the path until you have become the path itself " - A Buddhist Saying
After months of inactivity the mind stirs, impregnated with possibilities
I don’t know what her return implies or even if it’s a return
The impasse maybe broken, a way forward not yet deciphered
I wait for her next move and imagine our conversation
She asks me how was New York, where do I even begin?
It’s a city of millions where everyone walks alone
The drivers follow rules yet the traffic is on the brink
I am the only one strolling wherein everyone here walks with a purpose!
When you are thirsty there are a hundred places to drink but don’t expect free water anywhere
A thousand restaurants dot the square with options so many that confusion in your palate ensues
The best food invariably is by the roadside cart standing in the filth and manned by the refugees
Churning out long lost Mid Eastern, Oriental and Latin recipes and aptly called street cuisine
New York is a place where you can make love to a woman from the remotest part of the world
Don’t expect her to be exclusive though, in the Big Apple no one has time for such triviality
The constant on the move mentality translates into the way New Yorkers eat, pray and date
Detachment, living in the moment, not worrying about what comes next makes it a modern spiritual state!
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