When we first came to America, my sister & I worked in New York. We were overcome – by the Statue of Liberty, the Twin Towers – it was before Sept 11, Broadway, Times Square, the museums, the art and the vibe of the city. It was if the pages of our Encyclopedia – this was before Social Media and Google– had come alive. I remember us walking around the streets of New York like kids who had found their hand, their toes and their mouth in the cookie jar! New York was it, and we had arrived!

As the year passed, we discovered a phenomenon called “New Year’s Eve at Times Square”. It was all anyone would talk about – the exhilaration of the countdown leading to the ball drop and the romance of kissing a lover under a rain of confetti to the tune of John Lennon’s Imagine reminding us to live for today. Some called it a once in a lifetime experience. So we researched it; definitely a thing to do IF one could get in line in the wee hours of Dec 31st to get a space close to the ball, figure out the logistics of being without a bathroom for hours on end and most importantly for our tropical Indian asses, survive the freezing weather for best part of a day. Our odds were slim. Besides we didn’t have lovers to kiss to the tune of John Lennon’s Imagine. So we did what any respectful wannabes or in this case “wanna-dos” do – we put The Times Square New year’s Eve experience on our dream list! And got on with our lives.

Fast forward 10 years. I was living in Los Angeles and had recently met a wonderful British man who lived on Long Island. We were like two pieces of a puzzle with 3000 miles in between. So far I had never visited him in New York, instead Mark flew out to LA once a month – not just to be with me, but to help me put the shards of my life back together that had been terribly broken by the loss of my beloved sister. The color in my life was gone. And so were the dreams I had once dreamt with her.

But I wanted to do something nice for Mark. I thought how about I make a surprise visit to New York to spend a weekend together in Manhattan. And then another thought – could we watch the ball drop TOGETHER?

I was convinced after losing my sister that I won’t survive for long, so I didn’t particularly care for money. I called the Marriott Marquis right on Times Square and asked to book a room for a couple of nights. The only rooms they had available were not the ones facing Times Square. I made the reservation. A few days later I told Mark I was coming to NY – to his delight of course!

On Dec 30th we arrived in Manhattan, I on a cross-country flight, Mark on the LIRR. We checked-in to our room at the Marriott. The next day Mark asked the concierge whether we could step out of the hotel onto Times Square around 10 or 11pm to watch the ball drop and were told NOPE. If you want to watch the ball drop, either get in line, wait in the cold meaning no bathroom & the usual routine OR pay the exorbitant fee to watch it from the warm comfort of the hotels’ restaurant that faced Times Square and was hosting a New Year’s Eve party. The concierge also cautioned us that if we were to go out, to not misplace our special room key which would allow us access through police lines back to the hotel.

We didn’t have any appetite for a loud, expensive New Year’s Eve party, and standing still for hours in the cold was still out for my tropical Indian ass. And – it wasn’t that important anymore – not for me anyway. Mark suggested dinner at an Indian restaurant he liked. We left our hotel around 7pm & spent the next couple of hours in the cozy comfort of the restaurant and each other’s company. Then we walked north, streets were cordoned off all the way up to Central Park so we went up to the park and made our way down to Times Square on the east side of Broadway until we were level with our hotel. Bear in mind the hotel is on the west side of Broadway. Now between us & the hotel was Times Square. Because we were on the cross-street, there was not much view of anything except an entire precinct of cops holding back anyone trying to get onto Broadway. It was about 11:40pm.

Suddenly Mark turned to me and said “I have an idea.” “Okay…” I said with no clue to what he was thinking. We stood where we were for the next few minutes listening to the sounds & music from Times Square. With about 6 minutes left to midnight, Mark charged ahead – my hand in his – approaching one of the cops stationed at the entrance to Broadway. Very respectfully he said “Officer, we need to get back to our hotel please.” The cop looked at Mark who was waiving the special Marriott Access card in his hand as proof. The cop looked at his watch and said “Follow me” as he started to lead us through the crowd cutting across Broadway to the entrance to the Marriott. We politely followed him.

And then – once we were smack bang at the center of Broadway, Mark pulled me away from the cop and into the crowd. “Take off your hat” he said. I took off my hat and Mark took off his, just as we melted into the crowd. It all happened very fast and as realization dawned on me, I started laughing. Whether the poor cop turned around, I do not know, there was no way the poor chap could have found us among the throngs of people.

But what happened next was exactly how my sister and I had imagined all those years ago – the countdown leading to the ball drop and the romance of kissing a lover under a rain of confetti to the tune of John Lennon’s Imagine reminding me to live for today.

More than a filmmaker/storyteller, Swati turns ideas into experience. She is a loved wife, sister & mother – of cats as well as two daughters; her miracle-children. She is also an environmentalist and an immigrant to the United States. She can be reached via Linkedin and swati@TiredAndBeatup.com