New York, New York

A cloud of dust. A plume of smoke, ascending to the heavens, beckoning a new beginning. Two towering icons, shaken images, muffled fear in the air. It was surreal, and I couldn’t believe it. Was this the latest advertising for another late Summer Hollywood blockbuster?

Then the second plane hit, like a remote controlled toy striking the side of the building, and leaving behind another long trail of smoke, destruction and death. A trail that would last well into the new decade of a new millennium, and the effects of which will linger for a long time to come.

Today, where two towers once stood, and which were once the very symbol of New York’s skyline on postcards, kitsch souvenirs and tacky T-Shirts, Ground Zero is a massive construction site. All around it, the remaining skyscrapers that were unscathed as the towers crumbled and collapsed like a houses of cards. In the reflection of steel and glass all around, it was as if I could still see the image of those thin white towers.

Soon, a memorial will stand where the towers once stood. Two hollow and hallow pits, with water falling into the dark abyss, will mark and commemorate the towers and people in them on that fateful day. Out of the steel salvaged from the rubble of the Twin Towers, a new battleship aptly named the USS New York is now being built, and scheduled to be commissioned as “an enduring tribute to those who lost their lives on 9/11 and […] will carry the spirit of New York wherever she goes in defense of our country”. A sculpture that had stood but not stands a few blocks away in Battery Park as a testament to the “hope and indestructible spirit of this country”.

Indeed, seven years on, New York is still abuzz with life and spirit. Perhaps less so with the economic downturn looming overhead, but when I wandered the city in the bitter cold of a clear winter’s day, the rush of people and glitter of Christmas decorations gave life to the city.

From the top of the Rock I admired the city’s impressive skyline, and indulged in my fetish for towering buildings. The Empire State Building stood before me, so much more magnificent than that 3D puzzle I have at home. Surrounding it, structures of steel, concrete, dark glass and reflecting windows each vied for a peek at the heavens above in the dense undergrowth of the Manhattan’s grid-like streets. In close to 12 hours, I had walked from Central Park, that ‘green’ (actually, white because of the snow) oasis downtown, past the glitzy and animated billboards of Broadway and Time Square down to the river bank where the Intrepid was moored. From there, I trailed the undiscovered side-streets of Greenwich Village and Chelsea all the way down to the old downtown area. The virile charging bull which famously guards one of the streets close to the stock exchange was sadly nowhere to be seen. As I wandered on, I figured that perhaps he had been chased away by a grim-looking bear.

With a hoard of people, probably the majority of whom were tourists, I took the ferry to Staten Island, and back. As the ferry cruised across the Hudson, I looked back at the city, reflecting in the golden hue of dusk, against a dimming sky of blue. Seagulls flew, waves calmly lashed, and in the distance, that French lady of liberty stood, her flame reflecting in the sun. How many millions have sailed across these very waters, been equally surrounded by the song of seagulls, and longed for the land ahead?

I continued my walk, this time going north, past familiar signs and that pagoda-like gate which unmistakably, like every else in the world, marked Chinatown. I continued further, up broad ways and avenues till the bright lights of glamorous stores and shops came to life at night.

On the streets of New York, millions went about their daily lives in, hurrying past this leisurely traveller who saw sights and signs that perhaps many because of their haste to get to places look at daily, but cannot see. With the playful display of changing light of day, I wandered around the city, peeking into alleyways, up at the confined spaces between skyscrapers. I walked over iconic manholes from which dense white clouds escaped, while in the background rang the sirens and horns of speeding busses and cars, as screeching wheels echoed in the labyrinth of rails below. It was like another world, a world of and in its own, with so many sights, smells and surprises.

New York, New York… I had made it there. And now I can make it anywhere.