Reason #25 why I love New York: Cupcake ATM!

Sprinkles has an adorable ATM which dispenses all kinds of delicious cupcakes on the corner of 60th and Lexington. It’s cute, it’s pink, and provides yummy treats. I find the concept ridiculously wacky and wonderful, and why wouldn’t anyone love it so?
It’s 24-hour access to cupcakes! This means I don’t have to worry about shops closing. Before I moved to NYC, I really thought it was the city that never sleeps, meaning EVERY place would be open all night. Much to my consternation, this is not the case. My favorite public library is closed by 7 p.m. latest – making it quite tricky to drop by after work. My favorite department store closes by 9, most Indian restaurants don’t deliver food after 10, and The Sweet Shop, my closest dessert spot, stays open till midnight, but only twice a week. And yes, I’m a fairly organized person, so I normally plan for these things, but it’s always good to have a 24-hour option in case of emergencies. Cupcakes being accessible ’round the clock is very reassuring – I may not always want 3 a.m. cupcakes, but I do want the option of 3 a.m. cupcakes!

Additionally, ATMs are awesome because they cut out all human interaction. There are some days when I just don’t want to stand in line and have a conversation with a super-perky proprietor. And I’m pretty sure you all – even the more outgoing ones among you – occasionally feel the same way. After all, there is a reason Seamless is so wildly popular – you don’t have to actually call someone, and have a conversation – it’s convenient and so much faster to just order off a screen. Gone are they days when one would have to call Domino’s, wait patiently, and then recite a painstakingly complex order over the phone, hoping they get it right. Technology just makes everything so much more convenient!

The main reason I love the cupcake ATM though, is because it reminds me of happiness. It brings me in touch with the child-like joy inside, that joyous bubbly carefree spirit inside of me, the uncomplicated happy version of myself which emerges less and less frequently, the older I get and the longer I do my PhD. I feel myself getting caught up in a dizzying vortex of responsibility and adulting – lab work, laundry, taxes, dishes, doctor’s appointments, office drama ad nauseum. A big chunk of my life seems to involve doing what needs to be done, as opposed to what I want to do, and at times I almost can’t connect with bouncy and cheerful Pooja, who used to be teased about the stars in her eyes. The girl who believed in magic and true love, perfection and happy endings. Perhaps this is just how age works, you know, it creeps up on you and before you know it, you aren’t shielded any longer from the ugliness and pain. All of a sudden, people fall ill, people move away, hearts are broken, and there is no straightforward right or wrong anymore. Nothing is as simple as it used to be. And before you know it, happiness is not effortless – it’s easy to be happy when everything’s going great, but much more challenging to stay happy in the face of adversity!

And that is why cupcake ATMs are so incredible. Because their mere existence surprises and delights, and it’s such a whimsical joy. We all need that – all the joy we can get, from all the places we can get it from.

So come to NYC, and get yourself a Sprinkles cupcake today!

My dark chocolate treat!

Reason #713 why I love New York: The Strand

All bookstores are magical treasure troves, but the Strand is pretty much my version of Aladdin’s Cave of Wonders.

Behold, tons of stories just waiting to be read!

At the corner of 12th and Broadway, the Strand has a gigantic collection of rare books, classics with their quintessential leather-bound covers – so solid and indulgent, like books who mean business, alphabetized tall and narrow little stacks you can lose yourself in, all organized by genre and alphabet, an entire collection of cleverly-named candles, witty magnets, mugs, bookmarks, gorgeous journals and totes, humorous socks and other Strand paraphernalia, a banned books section, and a whole row of staff recommendations with detailed notes about how and why this book demands to be read this very minute – and while all those features make the Strand a terrific bookstore, what puts it over the top is the racks and racks of discounted second-hand books lined outside. Starting from as low as 48 cents, these books are wonderfully haphazard and disorganized – and it’s especially thrilling because you never know what you might stumble across. Old copies of Pride and Prejudice crammed against The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, mixed in with German folk tales, stodgily standing next to the rules of Hindi grammar, lined up with parenting help books, just adjacent to the single girl’s guide to NYC. I’ve found old yellowed books with notes inscribed in the margins (literary, as opposed to vandalism – there’s a fine line),  as well as books fresh and heady with that gorgeous new-book smell. The sheer variety delights my heart!

I’ve always felt more at peace with books as opposed to people. Those who saw me growing up can attest to the fact that whenever they came to visit, I’ve always had my nose buried in a book, and will only remove it with the greatest reluctance. I like to think I’ve changed a bit over time, become more of a people person, but maybe it’s just that I compartmentalize better now. Growing up, I’d collect books at stores and book fairs, I’d stack them, organize them by genre, author, frequency of re-reads, and caress them lovingly, read them over and over, trying to keep the pages un-creased and the spine intact (what kind of monster ruins book spines?! Or folds down pages?!). My books should remain as new as they were on the day I bought them.

At some point I realized that I don’t just like books, I need them. What started off as an indulgence has morphed into a necessity, and now I need extra ‘hits’ when I’ve had a bad day. While ‘going to the bookstore’ has always been the norm for when I wanted to celebrate some accomplishment (e.g. finished my annual exams and survived!) right from a young age, and getting books as gifts would make me happy in a way new clothes never did – I eventually figured out that a trip to the bookstore would also cheer me up immensely when I’ve had a hard day. Tired, stressed, lost, heartbroken – all these states of mind have been soothed over the years by a mere couple of hours in a bookstore. I feel at peace – like all the internal and external turmoil is held at bay by the hard covers (or paperbacks) of books. I’d go to a bookstore, pick up a novel, and curl up in a comfy armchair, surrounded by books and bookworms, and the quiet rustle of turning pages – it’s like a warm cocoon that wraps me up cozy and tight, a silvery force field of sorts, deflecting the world and all its troubles away from me. It’s my safe space, and nothing can hurt me while I’m there.

Books are something I take for granted, but whenever I stop and really think about it, I feel incredibly grateful to all the authors around the globe who pick up their pens and pick out the best words to share their stories, based in reality or imagination or both. I’m grateful to my parents for loving books themselves, and encouraging me to read more, explore more, as much as my heart desired. Reading is such an integral part of my identity that it’s hard to imagine a parallel universe in which I didn’t care to read. That universe seems colder, harsher, bleaker. My life is so much brighter, because I can choose to live multiple lives, think from varying perspectives, empathize better, and dream more resplendent dreams, all because of all the stories I get to read.

While e-books have revolutionized the ease of reading, I am determined to have a gigantic collection of physical books you can touch, see and smell (oh, that smell! Did you know that the Strand actually sells scented candles called Aged Page, and Cafe Au Library?). My dream house has a giant room full of books – wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, many lifetimes worth of books. But apart from my very own personal library, I’d love to have books spilling over in other areas of my life, quite literally. I want books piled on my coffee tables, I want window sills stacked high with stray books. Books lining my staircases, books forgotten behind cushions and fleece throws in cozy armchairs. Books snoozing under my pillow, tottering on nightstands,  balancing on the edge of the tub. I want to live in my own little oasis of books, a little world in which my kids can grow up surrounded by witches and wizards, dragons and Shardbearers, boarding schools and midnight feasts, one-legged pirates and snarky Greek demigods. It’s a vividly colorful world, this second world I inhabit, and is a world I will welcome all my descendants into.

Error: Printer Not Connected

 

Have you ever met a printer

That isn’t very temperamental?

All that it’s required to do

Is print out a copy or two!

But of course it isn’t that straightforward

Printers don’t just obey orders.

 

Error messages blink left and right,

Printer not connected, printer is offline!

Paper problems of every kind:

Prints of faded colors, text too light,

Unwanted spots and horizontal lines!

Then of course we have the dreaded Paper Jam:

Misfed sheets, mysteriously crooked,

Hard to remove, they’re clamped tightly in its jaws,

The printer shall not relinquish!

As for paper sizes – A4 or 3?

Who’s dealing with that? Not me!

If the paper’s fine, go check the ink,

Dried-up cartridges make me flinch.

But the most frustrating issue ever

Is even when you’re assured of ink and paper,

Print jobs neatly lined up in a queue,

No error messages whatsoever.

All looks perfect, but for some unknown reason

The printer refuses to print altogether!

You curse and you kick,

You sigh and roll your eyes,

But Mr. Inkjet here remains blithely oblivious

To all expressions of exasperation!

 

After all those logical fixes,

Troubleshooting manuals and forums galore,

Here is my (very scientific!) assessment:

Logic can only go so far –

The missing ingredient is human touch!

So hand out a gentle pat or two,

A loving caress, an encouraging word,

Praises, compliments, they’re all very welcome.

See, printers are just like the rest of us:

All they need is love!

So next time, instead of irritation,

Take a deep breath, be kind and patient.

Printer tantrums are best dealt

With firm and loving attention.

Don’t take it for granted,

Don’t ignore it till you need it.

Forge a bond, build a relationship.

As long as you Stay Connected

Your printer will too!