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Human hunger
Tag: New York
Wall Street journal
One of the most disappointing aspects of travelling for work is that despite being in a new city, a new country, you still spend the entire day inside a closed air-conditioned room. It makes no difference whatsoever whether you’re at an exotic tourist spot, your hometown, or the Big Apple.
And so it was for me at the Big Apple. I’d already strolled through the heart of the city, stopping at the Grand Central, but I still had so much more to see. And so, taking the subway after work one day, at about 6 pm, my colleague and I arrived at the industrial part of the city—Wall Street.
Wall Street
Federal hall, New York City
Wall Street buildings
Wall Street buildings, New York City
What did we expect? Fancy suit-sporters strutting about, proud of a day of good business. After all, that’s how it was in the movies. Home of the NY Stock Exchange, the Federal Hall, and The Charging Bull, Wall Street over-promised glory. And as one of my colleagues pointed out, no matter how much you hate being touristy, you can’t leave New York City without seeing those iconic sights—petty though they are.
I’m glad I heeded his advice. Even though business had died down by the time we reached Wall Street, we walked down the street, stared at the buildings, and made valiant attempts to capture them all on camera.
The New York Stock Exchange
Thanking Daylight Savings Time for the lingering light, we approached the looming Stock Exchange building, my eyes popping at the minute architectural details. Construction was in progress all along the street as well as on one side of the building as well. Noticing a sign that directed people to the entrance further down the road, we followed the path to encounter only closed doors and shut windows. A security guard stood by behind a mahogany desk and, cautious of crossing the work-in-progress lines, I approached him.
“Are visitors allowed inside?”
“No.” A good-natured man, he shook his head smiling.
Perhaps it’s because we’re late, the voice in my head echoed.
“Are visitors ever allowed inside?”
His smile reached his eyes. “No, I’m sorry.”
Oh, well. That was new. For all the popularity of the stock exchange, commoners will never know how it looks on the inside. We’ll have to make do with all that DiCaprio showed us.
Walking further down the road, we realised we were so close to another famous spot. Not one that I was curious or interested in at all, but we were just a few steps away. Would’ve been a shame not to stop by. And so we did.
The Charging Bull
I never understood what all the hoopla was about. Sure, it’s a magnificent beast, and yes, the sculpture is beautiful. And, of course, the defiant girl has always been an inspiration, more so in recent times. But beyond that, I wasn’t sure what brought the monument such significance. I waited a while to try and capture the Bull alone, but he was busy entertaining visitors who wanted to pose with him. People queued up for a photograph and, try though I did, I couldn’t get a proper portrait of the bull.
Shrugging—it wasn’t a big deal anyway—I returned to the map. The World Trade Centre and the 9/11 memorial seemed minutes away.
World Trade Centre
World Trade Center, New York City
World Trade Center, New York City
World Trade Center, New York City
World Trade Center, New York City
In hindsight, it seems silly to admit, but as I walked towards the World Trade Centre building, I realised I never knew what it was. All I had ever heard of it was its massive grandeur. And so when we came upon the building, I was awe-struck at how huge and welcome it was. For the second time that day, I tried, failing again to capture its entirety in one photograph. Regardless, though, relentless, I kept clicking until my colleague reminded me we should go inside. When we did, my eyes first set on the ceiling and the spine-like architecture. It’d looked like a bird’s wings from the outside, and here I stood looking at the spine that held both wings together. Calling it beautiful would be an in injustice. However, as I stood there pondering my next move, I realised I was in a shopping mall. Sure, the name is so popular that the entire world wants to be there, but when I did, although it mesmerised me, the place didn’t feel newer than the Magnificent Mile in Chicago, or Hollywood Blvd. in Los Angeles.
9/11 Memorial and Museum
9/11 Memorial, New York City
9/11 Memorial, New York City
9/11 Memorial, New York City
The last thing on our list of the Wall Street journal was the most important one. Walking towards the massive hollow hole in the ground where the twin towers once stood, I couldn’t help but reminisce the behemoth that terrorism has been in our lives. Of course, it’s not a sad, empty hole now—it’s instead a memorial fountain with names of all the victims carved in stone. It’s a glorious tribute to the dead, and yet a wrenching reminder of the horrors of the past.
With that moment of reflection, we turned away. It was time to go back to the hotel. It was a work trip, after all, and we had work to do.
P.S: Click images for full resolution.
Go
Carry me onwards
places where the soul is home
away from houses
Stopping at the Grand Central Terminal
You have to understand that when someone says Grand Central Terminal, not everyone thinks of a train station. That’s how it was for me when I read about it online. Weeks before my trip to the US, I scoured the internet for things to do in New York City. We had three and a half days and a lifetime’s worth of experiences to expect.
And so it was on a travel website that I came across this must-see place. Upon reading a review, it dawned on me that terminal referred to the train station, but I still was nowhere close to prepared as I entered the station.
My friend and I walked a long path, scanning the map to identify the exact entry point. And when we, at last, figured it out, we rode down the escalator to the actual lobby of the station.
In hindsight, that moment of my life was like a movie. My jaw dropped on its own accord, and my eyes grew wider than in a long time. For someone who’s accustomed to dingy stations overflowing with weary travellers who clutch five or six carry-on bags, wailing children, the stench of uncleaned coaches, the whiff of engine smoke, and months worth of grease on every wall and railing, the central terminal was a make of pure gold.
It’s funny, but the station walls were mustard, glowing in gold because of the thousands of lights that lined every inch. People flocked, of course. But nothing else seemed even to remind me of the train stations back home. Arches to my left and right led to tracks on both sides. A stairwell on either side made up a path that went around the centre of the terminal. And right in the middle, facing me was a grand gold board displaying departure and arrival times.
Blinking in slow motion, I tilted my head upwards gawking. There, stretched out across the entire ceiling was a mural—a gorgeous work of art—illustrating the night sky, the stars, the moons and, the zodiac signs. Orion seemed to wave at me, and the majestic Scorpio slithered in a corner. I spotted Cancer and Leo and the good old Libra weighing, analysing every situation.
My mind felt amused. My heart elevated. And my body transfixed. It was grander even than the setup palaces in movies. And trust me, Tamil (my mother tongue) movies have a lot of castles.
I couldn’t imagine the genius that went into building such intricate works of beauty into a train station. Its purpose was the same as any other train station in the world: helping people find their trains. But this station went way beyond: there was a massive food court in the lower levels featuring the best of culinary experiences like fresh gourmet bakeries, Shake Shack, and the Oyster Bar. And as if that weren’t enough, there were over 40 retail shops within the station, including the likes of Starbucks, Apple, and various other chain stores.
To lower concourses
Grand Central Terminal building
Grand Central Terminal
Inside the Grand Central Terminal
Grand Central Terminal main concourse
Grand Central Market, Grand Central Terminal NYC
It’s no wonder that Wikipedia claims that in 2013, over 21 million tourists visited the station—not to board trains but to experience architectural marvel and elegant interior designing. And of course, the Grand Central Terminal is a US National Historic Landmark.
While I was busy wrapping my head around the many glittering things about the station, most people around didn’t care as much. New Yorkers. They were more worried about missing their trains or losing their seats. Alas, I realised, perhaps the Grand Central isn’t as exciting when you’ve been there a hundred times.
Tourists, on the other hand, seemed satisfied with posing for a few photographs against the glowing granite walls, or with the shiny display board in the backdrop. It’s a memory worth keeping and cherishing. Would they spend another evening of their vacation at the same place, I wondered doubtful.
In my case though, there’s every chance I missed many little noteworthy things at the station. And I’m sure that if I go back, it’ll still seem different, new, and impressive as the first time.
Perhaps that’s the difference between a tourist and me—it’s not about where I went or stood, but about the significance of the place and the spine-tingling sensation afterwards. It’s not about selfies or Instagram Stories, but rather more about the muse it leaves me with and the undeniable yearning for more.
Shades
Hundred skin colours
and a million shades of light
admired world over
The Chaos Within 