Welcome (back) to New York - ready for round two?

 “In a philosophical sense, you can start calling a place your home when it becomes a source of grounding and belonging, or a quest for meaning in an indifferent universe.”

Dare I say this is my exact feeling put into words in a way I could never have??? Two weeks ago, on the 16th of September, at 7 am EST, the captain announced that we will be starting our descend soon. I, fixed my terribly bad posture that I was sleeping in for the last 12 hours, and sat up straight, trying to get a peek outside the window from my aisle seat. You see, this time, I had researched and carefully picked a window seat on my A380, making sure I get to see THE New York City skyline when I am about to land at JFK. But a very cute kid who boarded before me was already sitting in my seat when I arrived and I asked him, “Do you wanna sit there for the entire flight?” And he, with the most genuine smile and excitement, nodded his head saying “Yess”. My heart melted like ice cream on a Saturday in July. Never had I imagined giving up the perfect seat would bring my heart so much joy. And this is how I ended up in his aisle seat. Anyways, point being, I was still determined to get a glimpse of the skyscrapers from 3000 ft. above sea level. There was still an hour to go but I was prepared. I got up from my seat, went to the restroom, washed my face, freshened up, drank some water, and continued watching one of my favorite movies.

Another 30 minutes later, the seatbelt sign went on, and the captain announced “cabin crew prepare for final descend.” I was waiting for a wave of excitement to wash over me. I was hoping my heart would start racing and I would cry happy tears. But none of it happened. As I saw a very faint skyline from above the clouds, I felt calm. I felt content and a sense of relief took over me. We cut through the clouds and now could see the skyscrapers clearly. I could identify and name each building. I had my phone out because of course I had to record this moment but no signs of heart palpitations so far. Everything felt familiar, I could identify each building because I’ve walked past each one multiple times. I could figure where Midtown ended and Central part started. I could locate Bryant part because I knew what the BoFA tower looked like. As much I cried while leaving my original home, this felt like coming home too. I am trying very hard to present my gibberish thoughts clearly but I’m clearly failing at it. That moment, with the final credits of the movie rolling and the most emo background music playing in my headphones as I approach the big apple is something I will forever remember and be grateful for. 

Point being, this time around, which I like to call “round two”, I experienced everything I had anticipated experiencing the last (and first) time I landed in New York. Saw the skyline, first from the flight and then on the drive back to my new apartment. No tears on my way from Queens to Manhattan. The conversation was about what assignments were due and when to go get groceries from Trader Joe’s after we reach our new home. Streets, familiar. Signs on the highway, familiar. That soul crushing feeling of riding in an expensive Uber, familiar. Nothing new, no surprises. “I belong here!” I whispered to myself. “This is my city, this is where my life feels like it has a purpose. This is my second home” And a lot of people, rightfully, are baffled by how utterly disgusting my obsession (read love) for this city is but nowhere have I felt more secure, independent, and confident in my life. I could go on and on about the why’s of this but that’s just for my secret Tumblr account :))

The Uber stopped, and I sighed. I am home, I am excited to set up my new apartment, but am I ready to carry the 50 kgs of luggage up six flights of stairs??? Forget that, am I prepared to climb up six flights of stairs EVERYDAY for the next four-ish months?? I’m not gonna lie, I was scared. But, with the help of my friends/roommates, I managed to carry all my stuff up and was welcomed with two huge boxes of furniture, waiting to be built. Yes, new home means it’s time to become Bob the builder once again. Sometimes I feel like being in grad school is equivalent to living like a nomad; move your entire life from one place to another, one city to the next, every few months. I enjoy  being on the move but I definitely dislike tightening the screws of my bed frame with an L key (cue tears) For the next three hours, I cleaned my new room, built my bed, decompressed my mattress, emptied my bags, cursed a few times (internally), ate the food my mom had packed for my travels, repacked my back pack and headed to university because of course all my classes are on the very day that I land. Jet lagged and sleep deprived, I went to the campus, sat through classes, replied to a bunch of emails, bought milk, and came back home. New home. After over 40 hours of being on the move, I changed into some comfy clothes, made myself a cup of chai, called my mom and dad, and sat on my new bed, realizing - I don’t have a pillow!!! Of course I forgot to order a pillow because how can I not. Anyways, even without the pillow, it felt soooo good to finally relax and breathe and make sense of everything that happened in the last two days and what was coming in the next few months. 

I was so busy soaking up the warmth of my family, and preparing to settle in my new home that I totally forgot about the promise I had made to myself; that I am going to pause from time to time and observe what’s happening in the moment. I looked around, and I noticed that out of the four lights in my room, two are white and two are yellow. I noticed that the walls of our apartment are not sound proof. I noticed that there’s no window in our living room this time. I spotted my small bag of souvenirs from the transparent sides of my storage box and I remembered the fridge magnets I had collected from Seattle, New York, and Mumbai for my next home. I got up, removed them from the drawer, and arranged them neatly with the other fridge magnets on our refrigerator. That truly felt like I have settled in. That final touch that makes an apartment, a home. I smiled looking at them, made sure they were at 90 degrees exact, came back to my room, dimmed the lights, and went to sleep.

Over the next few days, I ordered and built a study table, a chair, a mirror, a table fan, a few storage boxes, and some hooks for clothes. Trips to target were made to purchase some room essentials (get it?) A trip to long island was made to bring back the rest of my stuff. I finally got myself a pillow on the fifth day. Put up some polaroids and paintings on the wall above my table. Got my hands on a stash of New Yorker magazines for free since the previous tenants had a subscription that they apparently forgot to cancel. Stocked the fridge and pantry. Got my staple guac and sourdough bread and resumed my Novice New Yorker explorations. Funny how a year changes how you feel about the city so much. My first two weeks the first time around were filled with chaos and anxiety in tourist places. My first two weeks the second time around were filled with content and familiarity in Trader Joe’s and Central Park. And now that I am settled in, I can not wait to re-explore the city and this time, I will try and make my blogs more fun and less overly-dramatic-with-emotional-essays-about-how-amazed-or-starstruck-I-am-by-the-city. Until then, enjoy bits and pieces of my new home <3

PS: I actually rode a Lyft but idk writing Uber makes it sound more dramatic. It makes sense in my brain (at least)

Okay Byee!

~ Vee 🗽