A solitary violinist

The statue of Hans Christian Andersen, the legendary storyteller, reading the 'ugly duckling' to the attentitive duck is not easy to miss for a visitor to Central Park. One can see children and families from different nationalities climbing on the statue and taking photographs. Every photograph of the statue is a memory engraved forever in an album in a distant land or becomes a digitized imprint. While sitting on the bench next to the statue today, I started reading ‘The Soloist’ by Steve Lopez, a non-fiction book about a talented homeless violinist. Engrossed in the book, and amidst the laughter of the children climbing the statue, I could hear the faint sounds of a violin coming from the distance. I curiously looked around to decipher the origin of the sound, but couldn't determine the direction of the melody. The evening sun was peeking through the verdant august trees and bushes in the west, the summer breeze gently blowing the leaves. As I picked up my belongings to head back and walked in that direction, the music was becoming more and more audible. At the end of the conservatory pond was a solitary violinist, exceptionally talented, and creating beautiful music for the visitors - a soloist. Some of the best things in life are free, and can be discovered only if we pause, observe, and reflect.

An Empty Stranger

What are they missing, I thought? In some villages in India, some of the poorest people have the widest and most genuine smiles. Why is it that among the swarms of the wealthy, handsome, and beautiful, I don’t see the same smiles?

The more we have, the more we seek. As humans, we are naturally inclined to not be satisfied with what we have. Greed has caused wars, destroyed families, and fueled an endless need for creating money. On the other hand, greed has also driven humans to venture, discover, and create the extraordinary. I can spot a random stranger in the city, usually a fashionista or a busy professional; an empty feeling encompasses their tough exterior conveying a feeling of unhappiness. There is an overwhelming feeling of emptiness that many residents face, amidst the power and quest for exceptional wealth, beauty, and popularity.

On a positive note, some people living in the city will strive to be part of the cultural or business elite and will work hard with a drive and determination not found anywhere. These people will be successful. New York is what you make of it and if you do not get influenced by the constant demand to be the best at everything, you can be a happy person like anywhere else in the world, maybe even as happy as the smiling villager.

Age in Asia

While walking through Chinatown yesterday, I noticed something that I had observed in the past but not truly thought about. It was the number of elderly people walking in the streets and sitting in the dessert cafes. There was something about them that struck me – some were walking slowly with a younger person holding their arm; others were chatting and laughing with other individuals in the cafes sipping warm tea. Even though many of them seemed physically frail, they seemed to glow with a sense of serenity.

That is when I thought about elderly individuals in general. I don’t always see the same kind of glow among the other ‘senior citizens’ in the city. When I visited a regular nursing home, the looks on those individuals’ faces were not the same. It didn’t reflect peace or serenity, but rather a sense of slow and unwanted suffering. I realized that the difference is cultural, and as many of us are already aware, the West doesn’t treat and regard the elderly in the same way that Asian or Eastern cultures do. Instead of learning from their wisdom and taking care of them, some are treated as worthless. Many eastern countries are starting to follow the same pattern. In countries such as India, where parents and elderly were revered, I am starting to see the same pattern emerging.

For many of us living in the West, it is not too long from now that we could be at that age where we may not be able to take care of ourselves. I hope we won’t be discarded or forgotten by the capitalist youth obsessed society but rather valued for our knowledge, experience, and wisdom.

Social Media Narcissist

The term "Narcissism" originates from a legend in Greek mythology of Narcissus, a handsome greek man. He rejected a nymph called Echo and refused to accept her love. A goddess, angry at Narcissus, cast a spell on him to fall in love with himself. He saw a reflection of himself in a pond one day and fell in love and never left that pond. He died there and turned into a flower.

What does Narcissus have to do with social media? Social media is increasingly becoming a haven for narcissists. It is becoming so rampant that even people who are not narcissists in real life are turning into them. What is it about social media that feeds narcissism? The idea of profiles and photographs of individuals to be cast as a display for the whole world to see did not exist many years ago. The idea of any of the 100-1000 'friends' to be able to post comments to photos and posts did not exist either.

Narcissists are normally harmless but the question arises about whether it affects their real-life relationships. Instead of spending time with family, for example, a narcissist may spend time checking who commented on their photo or who is checking their profile.

Twitter and Facebook are the main players in this phenomenon. Micro-blogging about your daily life can be exciting for you but may not always be exciting to the reader who will be getting updates every two minutes on what you ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner or what subway line you take home. Even I am guilty of it occasionally. There are a few obsessive micro-bloggers and facebookers: the ones who post a new tweet or facebook update every five minutes, usually about their daily life. They are what I define as 'narcissistic'

In the new world of web 2.0 we are all players in an increasingly narcissistic but exciting world; it is a world in which we are inundated with micro-information, updates, photos, and events, all of which are still - fun.

Simple Gossip from the UES

Gossip Girl is a show about a group of teenagers growing up in the Upper East Side. I have never watched that show and I am not interested in watching it when season 3 is supposed to return in the fall. As a midwestern-indian girl living in the Upper East Side, I am fascinated by the stereotypes floating around about people living around me.

The UES is a neighborhood enclave perfectly set-up in-between Central Park and the East River. Historically known to be a haven for New York establishment, walking in the quaint streets along the prized addresses closer to central park, one can easily spot little proud old ladies in fur coats or perfectly uniformed expressionless children accompanied by similar looking mothers taking them to private school. Museums and cultural attractions are in abundance; diverse restaurants dot the street; luxury boutique stores and cozy cafes can be found everywhere. A sub-culture has formed in this neighborhood. Little by little, the sub-culture that is the Upper East Side is shifting away. Many ‘outsiders’ have moved in and are gradually changing the establishment. In addition, many wealthy New Yorkers, including celebrities and young people are dumping the neighborhood and moving to more trendy neighborhoods such as Tribeca or Soho.

Yesterday, a group of confused tourists with backpacks asked me for directions, while I was standing on 79th and Lex. For a second, I thought - Do I look like an Upper East Sider, let alone a New Yorker? I don't think so, but maybe a neighborhood has some effect on its residents, whether they are part of the establishment or whether they are ‘outsiders’. Maybe, one day, you could find me in the Upper West Side or in Soho living among another sub-culture and tourists asking me for directions then. In any case, I do know that you won’t find me among the proud little old ladies or the expressionless faces that can so often be spotted around here. I grew up learning that a friendly smile won’t hurt anyone and a little humility can go a long way.

Bon Apetit!!

Another blog devoted to food? How can I not write about the wonderful assortment of food in one of the most ethnic friendly cities in the world? This weekend, I was having my regular saturday morning omelette when the craving for a kati roll set in. I didn't get a kati roll that day, but that night I had the opportunity to sample an ethiopian restuarant in hell's kitchen. It is called Meskerem and it had much larger space than Queen of Sheba nearby. After tasting the dinner entree, I give more points to Queen of Sheba. In terms of ambiance and space, Meskerem is better. However, they insisted that each person order a separate entree even though the group was large. Anyways, it probably explains why it is hard to find a spot in Queen of Sheba.

Now, back to kati rolls. I had never tasted a kati roll before I came to NYC. For those of you who have never tasted this delicious ensemble of a wrap, it is basically a paratha stuffed with spices, potatoes, chicken tikka, or lamb. I had two kati rolls on sunday - a chicken roll and a shami kabob. As if that wasn't enough, my friend and I ended up going to Max Brenners Chocolate Factory after that. I didn't know Max Brenners had good smoothies. The fruit smoothie that consisted of strawberry, mango, passion fruit, banana and orange with ice was heavenly.

So, now that I made my readers hungry here are links to the restaurants mentioned in this blog:

http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/meskerem-ethiopian-restaurant01/

http://www.shebanyc.com/

http://www.thekatirollcompany.com/

http://www.maxbrenner.com/

Spring in the City

Spring in NY. The tourists start coming, but have not fully occupied the streets. Leaves start growing in different shades of green. Tulips start blooming and I see more smiles than frowns. Central park is swarming with fluttering birds, young leaves, growing flowers, shimmering water, and happy children. There is a beautiful optimism that grows out of the cold bitterness of late winter. Smiley outdoor vendors are starting to sell an assortment of ice-cream and chilled juices. The grey snow and black ice that covered the corners of sidewalks have turned into yellow and red flower beds. Seasons are a reminder to us that change occurs and that life is a continuous cycle of birth, glory, sadness, happiness, death, and remembrance.

NY is a continous flow of personalities from every corner of the world - speaking different languages, eating different foods, and continuously adding to its aura. Among the yellow lines that dot the street and the concrete walls that tower a bold and powerful city, I still manage to spot a bright spring flower, a playful baby, or an unexpected smile.