minus six degrees temperature,my sensible mind scoffed.
‘Don’t think. Don’t listen to sense. Just run,’ I told myself and took
off.
I ran so fast my surroundings became hazy. Central Park on my
right and posh Upper East Side homes on my left whizzed past. My
face became numb in the cold air. The jacket began to feel heavy as
snow started to seep inside.
I had already spent the entire day walking, whether it was for
shopping, walking over to Madison Square Garden or back to
Shailesh’s home. I had not eaten much all day either. My legs began to
hurt.
‘C’mon Madhav,’ I panted, ‘c’mon.’
Sometimes, when nobody is by your side, you have to become
your own cheering squad.
I faked a dribble. It made me go ahead to catch my imaginary ball.
I checked the street sign: 67th Street. Cafe Wha? was near 4th.
'Don’t look at street signs. Just run, Madhav,’ I said aloud.
I passed a hotel on my left on 60th Street. It had an Indian flag
hanging above the main porch.
‘The Pierre: A Taj Hotel,’ a sign said.
The Indian flag unleashed a fresh wave of energy in me.
‘Run,’ I said to myself. ‘You can do this.’
I reached the most famous part of Fifth Avenue, with designer
stores on both sides.Tiffany’s was on 57th Street, Louis Vuitton on
51st. Riya’s journals had mentioned these brands.
On 50th Street, I developed a nasty cramp in my stomach. I had to
stop. I sat down in a squat and took a few deep breaths.
Time: 11.44 p.m.
‘Damn. There is no time. Feel the pain later,’ I told myself.
I couldn’t move. I scanned the street for cabs. Nothing. I winced in
pain.
On my right, I saw the NBA store. The store was shut. It had a
huge poster of Kobe Bryant outside.‘NBA—where amazing happens,’
ff
(ff)
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