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| www.prateek-mathur.com |
He closed his eyes, took a deep
breath in and exhaled till he felt his lungs devoid of any air. He did this three
times. He then opened his eyes and stared blankly for a moment only to shut
them again. This time, however, he did it so slow that he felt his upper eyelid
gently caressing his lower eyelid and the eyelashes resting on them. In his
mind he had finally perfected a real life slow motion that this moment
deserved.
He felt calmer and a beaming smile adorned his face. Upon reopening,
his eyes were ready for a mesmerizing view.
That view. Oh, that view.
The sight from his penthouse on
the 57th floor was exquisite. It trumped the lavish indoors that had a private
elevator, French doors, antique furniture, and
oversized, sun flooded rooms. But this was all about the view. That the
view was of Central Park made it even better. The fact that he owned
a $5,000,000 house in one of the most beautiful, stately and cultured
neighborhood in the world capital of these virtues, made him feel like a King.
The Park was bustling with people,
as usual. Those people seemed even "tinnier" from up here. He was one
of them for a long time. Not anymore.
Not
anymore.
This time he looked up in the sky
and burst into laughter. Loud, cacophonous laughter.
Lost in his world, he knew he had
made it.
Every victory, mattered in this
city.
This city. The greatest city
on Earth. New York, New York.
...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
He stood there as if he was about
to run. With his back arched, right forearm and leg outstretched, he seemed to
be just waiting to hear the gun shot to run for his life. But he remained
still. Motionless. Even when people went past him, hitting and shoving him, his
eyes remained intensely fixed on it. It was the stare match of its own
kind and none of them were giving up.
It growled. He growled back. It
bluffed a jump. He bluffed a run. None batted an eyelid.
He waited, waited and, waited
patiently, some more. The moment the sun came in the right spot, he started to
move frantically in the same spot. Incoherence was his greatest virtue. His
scruffy hair jumping up and down his forehead, his dirty knees, peeping out of
his torn jeans and his bare feet thumping the footpath.
He scared it away, rather, his
shadow on the sidewall did. He always knew his shadow is worth more than his
being in this city.
He jumped and snatched the
sandwich from the rim of the trash can scaring the cat away.
This time he looked up in the sky
and burst into laughter. Loud, cacophonous laughter.
Lost in his world, he knew he had
made it.
Every victory, mattered in this
city.
This city. The greatest city
on Earth. New York, New York.
