Wandersluts: The Kaladkarin Chronicles

In February 2005, flying in from Montego Bay, Jamaica, I arrived at the John F. Kennedy Airport at a little past 11pm, and in the Manhattan apartment we were staying in some time before midnight. After we got settled, my companion suggested we go see Times Square. "It's midnight, won't Times Square be closed?" I asked. "Nope, Times Square never sleeps," he replied. Indeed, standing there, in the changing light of multicolored billboards that shone like a multitude of suns, in the middle of the night, in the heart of winter, it dawned upon me why New York calls itself "the greatest city of the world." Yes, I am home.