When in New York do as you wish

by Aditha Dissanayake in US

Snapping on rubber gloves, she moves quickly. Even though she assures me she has been working on melons for months before moving onto live flesh, I watch with apprehension as she fits a needle snugly into her gun and begins to create a butterfly on my left arm. Yes, I am in a tattoo parlour in down town New York.

Have I lost all my marbles? No, not all of them, for when Belinda, the tattoo artist, suggests I should have my tattoo peeking over the back of my pants ?cos that?s where everyone in New York has their tattoos I insist I have it on my arm because I am not in Rome and so, don?t have to do what everyone else does.

Yes she agrees and tells me that she is, an African American who has managed to create a niche for herself in the predominantly white, masculine tattoo industry. New York is a city where you can totally be yourself. Besides, this tattoo will last only for three weeks, so by the time I?m home I will be my normal sober self to all outside appearances.

But right now, in no mood for moderation, and heeding Dr. Lakshmi de Silva?s advice before I embarked on this journey to let myself go, so completely, it seems just right to step into the Delacorte Theater in Central Park to watch raging hormones create love and destruction in Michael Greiff?s production of Shakespeare?s Romeo and Juliet.

In this free show, Greif presents the city of Verona as a tinderbox that explodes regularly with overturned fruit carts and flying oranges as the clans of Capulet and Montague pursue their senseless feud while Romeo, played superbly by Oscar Issac swoons, at first with unrequited ardor for Rosaline who is soon discarded once he meets Juliet.

And what a Juliet he finds in Lauren Ambrose, who portrays with great clarity the tension between conventional upbringing and giving way to total abundance after she meets Romeo.

Leaving the dust to settle on the bodies of the ill-fated lovers, we next make our way to the Diamond District in search of the perfect stone, on 47th street between 5th and 6th avenues. Like in Pettah, here too, the sellers, beckon you to purchase their products with cries of we sell gold, we sell gold.

James, a Jew who has been in the diamond business for over twenty years explains to us the four c?s of diamond; cut, colour, clarity and carat. He advices us to choose a diamond that has inclusions, i.e. minor scratches and other imperfections for they are less expensive than jewels that do not have inclusions.

Even though we select a blue diamond in which the inclusions are not visible to the naked eye, when James tells us the price, we hastily walk away saying we are just looking. If we had the kind of income Donald Trump has, we could easily have bought any one of his diamonds.

Walking past the Lincoln Center when we step into Barnes & Nobel I feel as though I have stepped into heaven. Never have I seen so many books, so many people reading them, seated on window sills or simply on the floor, to their heart?s content. You need not buy anything here. The whole store is yours to read, to listen to CDs or simply curl up and go to sleep. True heaven is surely a place on earth.

Moving reluctantly away from Barns and Nobel we discover Times Square the major intersection in Manhattan at the junction of Broadway and Seventh Avenue.

Though smaller than the Red Square in Moscow, or the Trafalgar Square in London, staring at the theaters of Broadway and the huge number of animated neon and LED signage it is easy to realise why Times Square has nonetheless become one of New York?s iconic images, and a symbol of the intensely urban aspects of Manhattan.

Principally defined by its animated, digital advertisements this is the place where movie buffs will remember Tom Cruise sat in total isolation in the movie, Vanilla Sky and where Spider Man fights with the Green Goblin in 2002. As if living up to its reputation even as we walked along the sidewalk, a movie was being filmed with scantily clad actresses, strutting around on high heels.

All these, by the way, are diversions. Like Henry Fielding I seem to thrive on them of late. Our real destination is the Empire State Building and we make it there by six in the evening, to purchase a ticket by paying $ 18 each to be whisked skywards to the 86th floor aboard two express elevators in about a minute, and to be whisked just as fast, out of the open air promenade by a burly security officer back on to the main building.

The protests made by the visitors are turned down with the curt reply there is thunder and lightening and for your own safety you should not be out on the deck. We cannot control the weather. Que seara sera.

Adieu to the breath-taking panoramic view of New York. The weather gods seem to think this visit to America?s most imposing historic landmark featured in hundreds of films and considered the best known skyscraper in the world, is nothing to write home about.

Next week, a visit to the Bronx where crime is rampant and bullets are said to fly, here, there and everywhere. So, folks, if my editor tells you that after this article was written the writer disappeared, you will know what happened to me. Keep your fingers crossed.

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