Empire State of Mind

Concrete jungle where dreams are made of – there’s nothing you can’t do! If I had a dollar every time I sang this line on my recent trip to the Big Apple, I’d be as loaded as Jay-Z himself. Growing up in India, my dreams of New York City were basically woven into me by Karan Johar, who, movie after movie, made NYC the ultimate fantasy for every young Indian. But it wasn’t Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna or Kal Ho Naa Ho that first pulled me in; it was Sridevi’s English Vinglish. Mom had dragged my reluctant teenage self to the theater, and while I didn’t quite get the movie’s depth, I fell instantly, hopelessly, in love with the city on the screen. There it was – the grid, the towering skyline. The first seed of my NYC obsession was planted.

Since then, for over a decade, I’ve devoured everything New York: Scorsese’s films, Bourdain’s shows, every episode of Brooklyn 99 (still one of my favorites), and countless YouTube videos about NYC’s iconic food carts. I remember this past summer, sitting in a friend’s apartment in Viman Nagar, Pune, when Bahadkar said, “Apan sagle aata US madhe

ashnar, NYC madhe meetup karuya.” Translation: “We’re all in the US now; let’s meet up in NYC!” Despite everything that’s happened in the last 7-8 years, I couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the thought of seeing my first friends from COEP in the city of my dreams.

October 12th was the date, and I was all in. I even found cheap flights on Spirit Airlines, oblivious to the “reputation” Spirit holds in US airspace. Long story short? My flight was delayed 2.5 hours. Naively, I’d even paid $18 extra for a window seat, only to find it blurred beyond recognition. Once in Newark, I made my way to Journal Square, where we’d booked a hotel. Reunited, freshened up, we headed straight for “The Edge.” Curious about why an observatory charges $56 for a view, I was thrilled to be proven wrong. We’d timed it for sunset, and the view? Worth every penny. Hudson Yards sparkled beneath us, and the skyline was breathtaking, especially with a cold Coney Island IPA in hand. After snapping 200+ photos, we descended toward our next stop: the High Line. I’d grown tipsy enough to find the NYC skyline even more surreal. Someone cracked a joke about our hotel elevator being slower than our trip to the top of the Edge. We wandered aimlessly down the High Line and ended up at Artichoke Basille’s for pizza, which, in my opinion, was way overhyped. It was massive and… just didn’t live up to the buzz.

Eventually, fatigue hit, and we realized there was no way we’d make it to the 33rd Street PATH station. Thankfully, Lyft coupons saved us, and soon enough, we were back at the hotel.

Despite exhaustion, we couldn’t resist catching up. After five years, we were finally all under one roof again. With awesome music in the background, we talked about our lives, joked, and finally called it a night around 3 AM, knowing we had an early morning ahead. Here is a picture:

By 7 AM, someone was shaking me awake. After a fierce debate over who’d shower first, I caved in, and, true to my Indian roots, headed straight for the complimentary breakfast. I’ll be honest – I was shocked at the sad excuse for a buffet these American hotels put out. French toast, sausage, some donuts, a cereal selection, and sauces… back home, even a three-star hotel boasts a full seven-course spread, complete with a live omelette station. But, as any self-respecting Indian would, I loaded my plate and filled up.

Afterward, we hit the 33rd Street PATH and took the subway into Manhattan (I didn’t keep track of the trains since one friend was leading the way) to reach Central Park. First impression? Huge. It reminded me of Aarey Colony, Mumbai’s beloved green space. We wandered for hours, taking endless photos, sharing laughs, and, when hunger kicked in, stopped for banana pudding at Magnolia Bakery near Rockefeller Center. One friend, hoping to get chocolate, mistakenly ordered pumpkin spice pudding – terrible decision. I hate pumpkin spice with a passion.

From there, we subwayed down to South Ferry and hopped onto the Staten Island Ferry, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty. The ferry was packed, reminding me of the M2M ferries we’d take back in India. By the time we reached Staten Island, Jash suggested taking a paid ferry back for a closer look at Lady Liberty, but we’d missed it. The Manhattan skyline at sunset, however, was stunning enough.

Back on Manhattan’s shores, we strolled over to Wall Street, snapped the obligatory “holding the bull” pics, then aimed our feet toward Times Square, stopping first at Kathi Roll Company for some much-needed Indian food. After devouring multiple rolls (yes, I had two), we finally arrived at Times Square, and it was just as epic as Karan Johar promised. I’d never seen such a crowd since I moved to the US, and the energy was surreal. I barely remeber getting on the path and making it back.. Anyways here is a pic:

The one with the balls:

Next morning was Monday, so the working friends broke off, and the rest of us hit India Square for a final meal together. We feasted on vada pav and chai at Honest, with Bahadkar opting for vada sambar. Dessert came courtesy of Bikaner Sweets – rasmalai for most, and Deodhar… well, he chose something strange.

By 2 PM, we’d checked out, grabbed our bags, and returned to Manhattan. I had one last NYC legend to meet: the Dosa Man in Washington Square Park. Sadly, we couldn’t wait long enough to get a dosa, but I did score a photo with him.

With backpacks weighing us down, we made the trek to Eileen’s Cheesecake, where I savored a blueberry slice, and hit up a nearby pizza joint where we snagged two extra slices for free. Bellies full, we trekked to Brooklyn Bridge for one final round of photos. We even found a polaroid photographer, and for $10, walked away with printed memories. picture at brooklyn bridge

Here are some pics for Eileen’s:

Dinner was at Cava, and it was bittersweet, knowing our trip was coming to an end. Akshay and I were flying back to Boston – yes, once again on the “greatest” airline, Spirit. Our flight had been delayed to 11:45 PM, but at 8 PM, we got an email saying it was back to the original time. We missed our train to Newark, ended up taking a $90 Uber, and just barely made it.

This trip? Everything I’d dreamed of. I can absolutely see myself living here someday. Until next time, NYC.