New York, New York! - 1

Mannahatta
Walt Whitman

I
I WAS asking for something specific and perfect for my city,
Whereupon, lo! upsprang the aboriginal name!

Now I see what there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane, unruly, musical, self-sufficient;
I see that the word of my city is that word up there,
Because I see that word nested in nests of water-bays, superb, with tall and wonderful spires,
Rich, hemm’d thick all around with sailships and steamships—an island sixteen miles long, solid-founded,
Numberless crowded streets—high growths of iron, slender, strong, light, splendidly uprising toward clear skies;
Tide swift and ample, well-loved by me, toward sundown,
The flowing sea-currents, the little islands, larger adjoining islands, the heights, the villas,
The countless masts, the white shore-steamers, the lighters, the ferry-boats, the black sea-steamers well-model’d;
The down-town streets, the jobbers’ houses of business—the houses of business of the ship-merchants, and money-brokers—the river-streets;
Immigrants arriving, fifteen or twenty thousand in a week;
The carts hauling goods—the manly race of drivers of horses—the brown-faced sailors;
The summer air, the bright sun shining, and the sailing clouds aloft;
The winter snows, the sleigh-bells—the broken ice in the river, passing along, up or down, with the flood tide or ebb-tide;
The mechanics of the city, the masters, well-form’d, beautiful-faced, looking you straight in the eyes;
Trottoirs throng’d—vehicles—Broadway—the women—the shops and shows,
The parades, processions, bugles playing, flags flying, drums beating;
A million people—manners free and superb—open voices—hospitality—the most courageous and friendly young men;
The free city! no slaves! no owners of slaves!
The beautiful city, the city of hurried and sparkling waters! the city of spires and masts!
The city nested in bays! my city!
The city of such women, I am mad to be with them! I will return after death to be with them!
The city of such young men, I swear I cannot live happy, without I often go talk, walk, eat, drink, sleep, with them!

Ah well, while I may not entirely agree with Whitman about New York, I have to give him credit for seeing it with beautiful eyes. New York is a marvellous city. It has a zest and verve that have not been dimmed for having been written about so many times. It is a city that truly lives.
It is also a city rich in dichotomies. New York hangs on to its past, even as it is wholely obsessed with its present. Like a girl wearing priceless antique jewellery carelessly. The modern jostles the ancient. And the country is contained in the urban surround. And no one is very surprised when they come upon a venerable obelisk more than 2000 years old right in the middle of Central Park. Itself a strange anomaly. In Europe, urban parks are tame, patterned affairs of riotous colour or large commons for meeting, greeting and running around. In New York, the urban park gives the urban jungle a run for its money.
It has taken me a while to digest the city. Folks keep asking, "What do you think of it?" and I am still groping for answers. In its vibrancy and chaos, it reminded me of Bombay. But a more controlled, sedate Bombay. In some neighbourhoods, NYC has a charm uniquely Viennese. Tree-lined streets, enchanting brownstones with breath-taking window gardens. But on the whole, NY is incomparable. It took me by surprise, it made me anxious, and I felt welcome, all at the same time. No city I've ever visited has discomfited me more. And for all that, no other city has been as easy to navigate and run around as this one.
And never before have I known with more certainty that here was a place I wouldn't ever want to live in. The urban sprawl interests, intrigues and even, at times, enchants. But it never feels like it could be home.
When I visited Dubai over Christmas, AB was annoyed that I didn't have much to say about it. Now I realise that it was because I felt comfortable, at ease. I felt I could handle the city's pace and its demands. With NYC, I had to keep talking, rationalising, or I would go under.
I guess most of you are wondering what I've been drinking :) Just that NYC is such a gigantic and mythic city that it calls for reactions on completely different levels. Plus there is the whole issue of being so visually familiar with the city that actually being there is like being inside a hologram. NYC really brought home Rushdie's contention that in a world as visually driven as ours, the image becomes so iconic that the thing itself lacks the power to impress.
Anyway, I did do all the usual touristy stuff. Statue of Liberty, Times Square, Brooklyn Bridge, Central Park, The Met. Will describe all that in part 2 of this post. Will also try and upload some of the 135 photographs I took in NYC thanks to Priya's loan of her camera! Until Then!