
A New York state of mind
I was sure that nothing could ever take Lahore's place in my heart. I was wrong, of course. New York City charmed me.
Walking along Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, New York City, can be an exhilarating experience. Imposing architectural wonders staring down at you on all sides, the throbbing, pulsating and electrifying pace of city life can be, overwhelming to say the least. Yet one cannot help falling in love with this impossibly grand monument to human achievement and skill.
“For that one person who blows himself up, we put decent people like you through this!”
Apology accepted and no damage sustained to the ego.
I had my reservations when I first landed in the US because there was the sadness of leaving my home, friends and family, and beloved Lahore and I was sure that nothing could ever take its place.
I was wrong, of course.

Slowly, it nestles into a corner of your heart and grows on you. You feel it and sense its presence all around you – in its boroughs, buildings, parks, museums, theatres, crowds, taxis, food, cafes and even seasons.

The achingly beautiful autumn is poetic to say the least, the trees all over the city change colour becoming various shades of orange, rust, lime, red, magenta, ochre, and yellow. It enthrals and captivates you. The red ones seem to bleed from the heartache of impending winter.


A horse-drawn carriage ride around the park while you eat is definitely a worthwhile experience. Numerous roadside cafes and restaurants romantically tucked away into obscure corners cater to every palate and pocket, be it from any corner of the world.

When the owner of a gift shop on Seventh Avenue lets you go without charging anything (because you work in the building nearby and bought postcards worth less than the amount required for a card payment) with a sweet smile and insists,
“You can take it as a gift, Hon’!”
You are charmed.
Even when the Indian student in your class brings you Bombay Biryani, just because you are a Pakistani and shares the same culinary background as you, it brings a smile to your lips. Or how about when you are at a party, the only other guy looking for vegetarian and fruit servings apart from yourself, is your handsome colleague and upon enquiry as to why he shares this pastime with you, he replies innocently,
“Because I’m a Jew!"
You are stumped.
Or when the man behind the counter at a restaurant tells you that whatever you’ve chosen is not ‘halal’ even though you never mentioned you were a Muslim (he assumed I was an Arab), you feel touched.
COMMENTS
Comments are moderated and generally will be posted if they are on-topic and not abusive.
For more information, please see our Comments FAQ