New York I Love You

It was a beautiful piece of poem, with shortnesses yet varieties. It was a pretty song with separate tones sung harmoniously together. 104 minutes evokes the senses of a strange garden, where every flower you pass effuses a separate fragrance touching flirtatiously your nose, your fingers. A girl of 16 believes in dreams and makes dreams come true. Man and woman at 29 on a nice weathered day fall crazily in love on a stranger's cab ride. You track your charm in the middle of the night over a lost writer's effusive words. A painter comes to New York to find his love, with cheap bread forming his brush and soya sauce being the ink. Couples hand in hand find eternal romance throughout 68 years together. You find love everywhere in New York, as the movie says, love to your partner, to a stranger, to an imaginary idol, to a baby, to an old man, to a Parisian lady, to each and every person around you want to hug.

The movie was full of surprises. Pretty as it was, it left you unsettled. You crave for the warmth to stay by the surprises. You long for random details of the happy-forever-after fairy tale ending. And you stop to wonder, where you are in the midst of this winter. There was the return of a friend with trust. And there was a pretty adventure of warmth, spontaneity and romance. Yet stirring in between was a bridge of pride and freedom or loneliness. Now it arouses, the emptiness of just a phone call away.