The Universe Gave Me This Blog Post

I thought I had a problem. I wanted to write a blog post for this week, but I had no ideas. Then, lo and behold one was handed to me on a platter.

I should have known I’d get an idea over the weekend since I’d be going  to Manhattan, not once but twice. Saturday, while I had a wonderful day and a delicious vegan lunch with friends, yielded nothing in the way of a light bulb going on over my head. Sunday, however handed me this post, but in a very mystical way, one that reinforces my belief that there are no coincidences.

Summer Sundays begin with coffee on the deck and the New York Times, not necessarily (in fact, not usually), the current day’s paper. Anyone who knows me well knows I am obsessed with reading the whole Sunday edition – all seven sections (Sunday News, Sports Sunday, Sunday Business, Week in Review, Arts & Leisure, Sunday Styles, Real Estate) plus the Magazine and any special sections that may be included. Only when I’ve finished, do I buy another Sunday edition; even if it takes me a month of Sundays. So there I was reading  Chronicling Neighborhood “Joints” in May 24’s Metropolitan Section,  a feature paying tribute to eateries that have stood the test of time in a city that has a continuous turnover of restaurants.

Kindly note this paragraph. We’ll return to it in a moment.

After arriving at Grand Central Terminal, I set out to meet a friend downtown.  About 10 blocks into my walk, I happened to look across the street and  noticed this line of parked taxis.

I looked up at the street sign. 28th Street – I was in Murray Hill, also know as Curry Hill. Now go back and read the sentence aboutbiry

• cabbies,
• biryani (an Indian rice dish)
• and Murray Hill.

For those not familiar with Manhattan, here are two  bits of information.

• A large percentage of NY taxi drivers are Indian,
• and there’s a two block stretch of Lexington Avenue with nothing but Indian Restaurants.

And my own personal favorite:

These only begin to scratch the surface. I’d have been very late to meet my friend if i snapped a photo of all the Indian restaurants. But think about it, of all the old Times I could have been reading, I found one that made mention of cabbies in Murray Hill, and of all the avenues I could have taken through Murray Hill, I happened to take  Lexington.

Life, I love ya!

I love the New York Times,  too, and since I’d finished the May 24 paper, I stopped to get