Brunch to bench: A walk through Central Park

Time of India

a day ago

Sonika Sethi is Associate Professor of English in S D College, Ambala Cantt. Her articles are regularly published in Hindustan Times, The Tribune, etc. and has published more than 150 articles. She is the author of the weekly column 'Spell-Bound by Sonika' published on rhyvers.com. She is the Executive Editor of monthly literary magazine, Rhyvers Beat. She is on the editorial board of 8 academic journals and has 7 books to her credit. Her books include: From the Sidewalks of Life, Easter Lilies and Other Stories, Of Gulmohars and Kaners and Other Stories, Rohinton Mistry's Fiction: A Postmodern Approach, Cinematic Adaptations of Literary Texts, Brewing Memories and Shades of Love. Her book Easter Lilies and Other Stories was long listed for Times of India Auther Awards. The book also won the Best Fiction Book Award by Asian Literary Society. Recently her book has been included in the Top 100 Books of India. She conducts lectures and workshops in schools, colleges and universities on the art of storytelling, creative writing, soft skills, Intellectual Property Rights and communication skills. LESS ... MORE
New York, the sleepless marvel, the ceaseless engine of ambition and artistry, thrives in perpetual motion. Its grid of intersecting streets and avenues pulses with the choreography of humanity: a place where time walks briskly in stilettos and the economy breathes in ticker symbols. From the panoramic grandeur seen from the Edge to the ant's perspective from the footpaths, the city stands upright, unblinking, undeterred. Its soul echoes in a cacophony— the laughter spilling from rooftop bars, the hushed symphony of the underground, the siren-song of dreams chased and fates altered in real time. Morning stretches across the Brooklyn Bridge, golden and glorious; evening folds into the crevices of Manhattan's skyline with equal flair. Here, the city acknowledges neither triumph nor tragedy— it simply moves forward, relentless and indifferent.
And yet, at its frenetic core lies a paradox— a sanctuary. Central Park, a green expanse etched into the concrete sprawl, offers the city's one true exhale. Here, the metropolis softens. The towering buildings recede, the noise hushes into birdsong, and time, for once, unclasps its hold. In this oasis, New York remembers how to breathe. Not to pause its rhythm, but to deepen it.
A summer walk through Central Park offers a quintessential tableau, where the relentless pulse of New York surrenders, momentarily, to a more languid rhythm. It is here, amid sun-dappled paths and whispering leaves, that one bears witness to the city's rare duality: the unyielding drive of ambition meeting the unhurried grace of repose. In this verdant sanctuary, the metropolis loosens its grip, allowing its hurried heart to slow, its noise to soften, and its spirit to stretch beneath the open sky.
On a Sunday afternoon, following a leisurely lunch with my two daughters, my niece, and her family at a charming restaurant near Lincoln Centre, the suggestion to stroll through Central Park came like a gentle invitation. When my niece proposed the idea, I found it impossible to resist— a walk in the park felt like the perfect continuation to an already delightful day.
As we stepped into its green embrace, with giant trees spreading their girth as well as shade to welcome everyone, I was instantly drawn into the gentle thrum of life unfolding around me. A little ahead, on the sloping landscape of Sheep Meadow, families picnicked on sunlit lawns, friends ambled arm in arm, lovers lazed on the grass gawking at the floating clouds overhead, or whispered over park benches, and solo runners traced graceful arcs along the winding paths.
Young parents ambled by, gently pushing prams that cradled their tiny passengers— one cooing or drooling, the other wide-eyed with wonder. Solo cyclists zipped past like arrows in motion, while families rode together in harmony, their children's laughter rising like birdsong in the breeze, and dogs tugged eagerly at their leashes.
The park thrummed with energy— and so did our little group, despite the yawning age gap between my grown-up daughters and my niece's sprightly, single-digit-aged sons. The two boys squealed with unfiltered joy, leaping and darting through splash puddles with the abandon only childhood allows, utterly oblivious to the world around them. My daughters, momentarily shedding their adult selves, chased after them with laughter bubbling from within, their delighted shrieks echoing those of the younger two. In that sun-drenched moment, time collapsed, and joy became ageless.
Who would've thought that in a city sewn together with steel and ambition, nature could throw on its greenest garb and strut like it owned the place? And just as surprisingly, relationships long tucked away in the attic of time could dust themselves off and dance again, right in the middle of a sun-kissed park.
As I took in the happy, unhurried faces around me, it struck me—concrete jungles aren't as barren as they seem. They can sprout trees, cradle moments of calm, and sometimes, offer a second chance to reconnect with others and with oneself.
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Views expressed above are the author's own.