New York, New York

The great poet Bob Dylan once wrote,

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me

I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to

Now I, and Jojo, on the night she turned twenty six on this good green Earth, found ourselves in the wild and precious streets of New York, where sparks flew on every street corner, where people flooded in day in day out to see the great and wonderful mess that is New York. Times Square stands as all that is good and bad in this world. With screens as big as stadiums constantly playing adverts, people on the streets selling, hustling, performing, observing, travelling, protesting, taking pictures, drinking, calling, creating, destroying. Amidst it all is this potent feeling of being alive. That the year is 2025 and you have made it this far and in many ways the journey is just beginning. New York still, still, still stands as a living, breathing dream on this planet. A giant experiment where you cram way too many people in a small city. And yet, it's beautiful. Everywhere you look; the buildings, the art, the iconic streets, the constant movement, the constant energy. It is the great human game taken to its limits. I remember having to catch a 7am flight back home. We stopped at Times Square at 4am 'to see whats up' and if we could get biryani. Yes we could get biryani. A food cart just off of Times Square. Jojo and I are both in agreement that it was the best biryani we ever had. Their chai was amazing too. We ate biryani and drank chai as two girls twerked in one of those music blaring push carts that you see snaking their way through the streets around the square, attracting people whose feet have gone too sore from walking (use the subway - it's way more convenient) or couples looking to create a romantic experience. For these two girls the option was twerking. The driver seemed to be having a good time, so were we. Other notable experiences was getting to watch a full orchestra play Halil  by Leonard Bernstein (Sleep itself is Death's twin brother), Symphony No.1, Op. 25 by Paul Ben-Haim (I lift up my eyes to the mountains) and Symphony No. 5 in E Minor, Op. 64 by the great and powerful Pyotr Tchaikovsky (A Heroic Emblem - pandemonium, delirium tremens). At Carnegie Hall nonetheless! By now dear reader, you may have already got the impression that I enjoy live things; live music, live shows, live places.

 Another pair of hardy young poets once wrote a song called Bleecker Street that captured my ear a long time ago.

The poet reads his crooked rhyme

Holy, holy is his sacrament

Thirty dollars pays your rent

On Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeecker Streeeeeeeet

On a beautiful Friday night we took the train to Bleecker Street. An entire street lined with interesting, creative stores, music in all corners. In a basement in one of those corners we find ourselves at The Comedy Cellar, slightly tipsy, slightly tired (I think that was the day we did 30,000 steps).By some good fortune we end up getting the last two seats for the 6:30pm show at the iconic comedy club! More drinks at the club, more laughs, more life. The culmination of these live performances was a wonderful jazz performance (The movie Soul comes to mind) by Maestro Ron Carter at Birdland (Charlie Parker, the bird - if a cymbal wasn't flung at his head, would I be siting in this timeless venue?)

At this point in the journey one gets acclimatised to seeing and hearing almost anything. It is significant to note there was a big anti-Trump protest in Times Square one of the days. So many people turned up, and immediately one sees the signs of imminent peril that history has taught us. It was truly saddening to see members of the US Army patrolling the streets as if Martial Law was just about to be declared. Politicians have become caricatures and have made the great game even more gamey and ridiculous. It's infinitely worse than Hunter S Thompson wrote it to be back in the 60s. And where is the world heading to? And where were we heading to? Two lost souls in a lost city. Where is everyone going? Why is everyone rushing? What is this life of billions of years of evolution to moments like these. To AI friends and Billboards that say 'Don't hire humans! AI won't be late for work!'.

New York left me with an elated joy and a profound sadness. One of those feelings that settles and lingers around for a long time after. A great hope and a great dismay, paradoxically simultaneous. I will be back there, to insert myself into the great game. To see what poetry flows out of my soul amidst those streets that never sleep. Till then, I bid you, adieu!

PS - How can I forget to mention that I got to play pool at the iconic Amsterdam Billiards, former pool house of Mika Immonen (R.I.P).