NYC and specially Times Square is replete with memories for me. There is something electric about the crowds complete with quirks that distinguish locals from wide-eyed visitors like myself. As I maneuver J on her stroller through the rising tide of morning commuters, I feel energized. Our first stop is at a coffee shop. J is scared of the big Labrador that a customer has tethered to the railing outside. Once inside, J asks for coffee and I tell her as always that she is too young for it. A banana nut muffin offered as compromise is grudgingly accepted.
J sits by the window absorbing the rapidly shifting scenery of the busy intersection. She has never been in the middle of a city quite as big in her life. We head out again and have no specific goal for the day. I want to walk, enjoy the sunshine and absorb NYC like it were a magic potion capable of seeping through sub-consciousness hoping J would be able to do the same - if she did not fall asleep.
In the next few hours we went past the ubiquitous Duane Reades, convenience stores, cell phone charger shops, e-bay shippers, florists, delis, novelty underwear stores and a bunch of guys shouting at each other in gangsta. I felt glad J is too young to understand the many colorful turns of phrase. As we had our sandwiches for lunch, I asked J if she enjoyed our walk. She nodded with utmost seriousness. I am so happy that she shares my fascination with NYC already.
An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t
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