A sequel to The Love Affair

Previously on The Love Affair ....
Is my love affair coming to an end?
I have no idea. But I figure I’ll have the answer in a couple of months.

I recently returned to Bangalore after spending 7 1/2 weeks in the US of A, 5 1/2 of which were spent in New York City ...

Week One could not have been better, staying with dear friends, perfect sunny spring days and nippy nights, the trees starting to bloom, tulips adorning the city, the return of outdoor seating in restaurants, the Tribeca Film Festival thanks to which I was in the same room as Martin Scorsese, Souleymane Cisse and Ed Burns, discovering a cart selling macaroons in Soho, my favorite meal, the Sunday brunch with a chorizo omelette. Damn! I was even toying with the idea of taking up a consulting assignment and staying back for a while!

Week Two I move into my sublet. Another almost perfect spring week except for a rainy Wednesday. Elsa, the friend I love to death and fight with a lot, visits from Chicago and we spend our days walking, eating, drinking, watching performances, getting to know Gabrielle the waitress/actress, Allie the bartender/model, Celine, Elsa’s niece/waitress/dancer, Michael the waiter/traveler ... there were others but I forget their names. We ate small meals many times a day so we could try out more places. We celebrated Cinco de Mayo, Elsa with beer and I with way more margaritas and tequila shots than should be legal, leading to stories about me that were told at parties later. I discovered that I loved the West Village and the East Village way more than Greenwich Village. New York still had the best pizza and bagels. Yes, life was bloody good!

Week Three was exhausting with my Culinary class, but also fabulous with me spending time reading my book and people-watching in various parks during the picture-perfect afternoons. Speaking of the class, I haven’t worked so hard in a very long time. It was like being on Top Chef, being constantly watched, afraid I would overcook the meat, have vinaigrette that wasn't blended (who was the genius that thought of mixing oil with vinegar?), limp salad leaves, measure incorrectly, cut my finger while chopping, burn my hand while flambe-ing. Fortunately none of that happened and our team consistently had the best dishes according to us!! After spending hours and hours in the kitchen Monday through Friday, I was ready to call it a week and sleep in the next 48 hours. What a ridiculous thought. Sleeping is a complete waste of time in New York City, even if you’re exhausted from a culinary class.

Week Four was a disaster weather-wise. It rained the entire week. Constantly. I don’t like getting wet. I kept buying and losing umbrellas. I hated that my shoes were wet. I began missing home. I wanted warm meals served to me. I didn’t want to do laundry. I wanted more space than just the room I was confined to. The parking garage across the street was too noisy and kept me up at night. The highlight was Pooja’s visit over the weekend, when the rain temporarily stopped, we ate scrumptious meals, bought some art from Union Square, ate cupcakes from a place that sold them out of a window in Soho, discovered that Crocs was now selling shoes that were actually wearable ... stranger things have not happened too often!

Week Five, I got more homesick. Pradipta, who was supposed to come and stay with me for 4 days, called to say that his trip had been canceled. Susan (from Kentucky) and Akshit with family (from Boston) however came in to town so I had some fun times with them. Brunch at the members only dining hall of the MET and the night at Greenwich Village, bar hopping, Southern Comfort shots and standing in line for kati rolls at 2:30 am were particularly memorable. However, the highlight was Sunday night at Washington Square Park, listening to Colin Huggins (http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/31/nyregion/thecity/31pian.html), the Crazy Piano Guy (http://www.thecrazypianoguy.com/links.html), playing beautiful classical numbers, enthralling his audience, followed by popular tunes, incredible vocals by David Gordon and Nick Ganju on the guitar. Also the Crazy Dancing Lady, 60-something, visiting from Los Angeles who had had back and knee surgery and who wasn’t shy about showing her unique and endearing dance moves. The audience, clapping, singing (I sang every single song and missed my friends from Chicago like crazy), dancing, lapping up the entertainment being provided in the park. My $10 tip was too little for the magnitude of joy that it brought me. I had a lump in my throat and I wished that I could relive that evening over and over again. For a few hours I was in the zone and not thinking of home.

There were only a couple of more days left in New York after returning from a week each in Chicago and New Jersey. The purpose of my visit was to renew my vows with the city and reestablish my relationship with it. Despite the incredibly amazing time, I had a feeling that it was going to be goodbye for a while. As I walked around some of my favorite hangouts, I was struggling with my emotions. I was happy to be heading home and equally sad that I was leaving. I didn’t know when I would be back to maybe stay in the West Village, experience the unique vibe of the East Village, make friends like Shafik in Vive la Crepe, or David, sitting on the bench next to me in Washington Square Park, share life stories with the bartenders, Allie and Jeremy at Cafe 50 West, get the best foot massage in Chinatown, watch a guy in a suit skateboard to work, be surrounded by artists, musicians, actors, dancers....

Was this the end of our affair? Could the affair really end? Even if I didn’t come back for a while?

One of the people I met this time said to me ‘this city grabs you and never lets you go’. I heart you New York like I heart no other city. But you’ve got to let me go.