By Nadja Atwal – www.nadjaatwal.net
New York is the Big Apple for a reason.
She is shiny and rotten, alluring and lonely. She is nocturnal, bold, loud and intense. She is full of bright lights and bleak skyscrapers, of manicured parks and cracked pavements. She is oversexed and underloved, a walking contradiction of beauty and beasts. In between the wild winters and suffocating summers, there is no place like it: never dull, constantly screeching, yet we love her all the same.
I have now been living in Manhattan's heart for a decade. My two sons are born in the bustling Burrough. And yes, high-rising living – or the shoebox life as we like to tease – has cost something akin to buying a palace in the South. But I would not trade my New York license (okay, I don't drive here) for any other pocket on the planet.
The often-mentioned "energy" that the City exudes, combined with its diversity...