I had been meaning to visit the famous and truly happy place of NYC for a month now. It is called the NYC Flower District and is on 28th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues. I want to do a modern arrangement of flowers. But none of the street vendors had flowers, accessories, or foliage that would do merit to some of the designs I had imagined. I looked online to see if there was a proper ‘phool mandai’ in the city. I was optimistically hoping that such a place would provide me with more variety at affordable prices to create a novice but stunning design.

It was hard, though, to leave home early. The flower market opened at 5:30 am, and by 11 am the flower stores were already shuttering down. There were also sad eyes and shrill, short barks of a puppy to deal with, accusing me of going out without him and wanting attention. I steeled myself one day, ignored the dog, and stepped out of the house well before 9 am.

I was about to enter the first store called International Garden Inc. on 28th and 6th when I heard a distinct trilling sound. I saw a cat lazily stretching, eyeing me with a gentle tail wag. I smiled to myself but walked on. What were the chances the cat was talking to me, and I could hear it! “Where are you headed?” asked Luna offhandedly. I stopped in my tracks, startled. It was the cat! The cat was talking to me. “Hello," I pleasantly greeted the cat. “I am headed to this store," pointing to the International Garden Inc. “And who do I speak to?” I asked. “Luna,” the kitty replied to me as she gently rubbed against a potted spider plant. She lazily added, “I would not go into that store if I were you.” I was not deterred, chose to ignore Luna’s warning, and walked into that store. It was a mistake. Maybe it was the first such store I visited in the flower district, or maybe it was truly good; I would never know, but I was forbidden to take any photographs. That interaction dissuaded me from spending more time talking with the owners or the florist. I walked out with a bruised ego, a little indignant at my harmless request to photograph the flowers being turned down. Luna was patiently waiting for me outside.

“I should have listened to you,” I ruefully remarked to Luna as I walked out. Luna, who was grooming herself, licking her back, looked at me with her grey-green eyes and a slow tail wag. Then she simply walked away, leaving me with no choice but to follow her. I knew then why I liked dogs better than cats and remembered fondly my own abandoned puppy. He would have surely licked my face to assuage my hurt, presuming nothing else would have distracted him in the flower district.

Without turning, I heard Luna share, “There are better mice in other stores to catch, which is why I never visited the International Garden Inc. But I would not expect a human to know these important details.” Luna swayed her hips and majestically entered a store called Tropical Plants and Orchids Inc. I meekly followed Luna. Apparently, Luna became the unsaid docent to my flower district visit.

A courteous man greeted me in that store. Big and small succulents lined the store shelves. The man introduced me to using succulents and air plants in flower arrangements. He also encouraged me to buy greener and fresher moss that they sold. The prices seemed reasonable. Although most plants were potted, I could envision using them in floral arrangements without destroying them.

Luna, in the meanwhile, had disappeared as I was engrossed in this conversation. I looked for her in the store, but she was nowhere to be found. ‘It must be the thorny succulents that might have dissuaded her from climbing the shelves in the store,’ I concluded.

As I walked out of the store, I continued to look for the docent. However, the sidewalk lined by potted greens and flowers caught my breath. I seized the moment to snap a picture. As I admired the lovely and fresh foliage, a beautiful, freshly bloomed, orange-yellow-pink-red hibiscus flower caught my eye. Maybe the sunless sky and the natural gray of NYC made the colors pop even more. I walked further, marveling at the flower and plant paradise, until I heard a ‘meow’ again. There she was! Luna was enjoying herself by rubbing and nibbling at an areca plant. I was overjoyed to see Luna again. However, the feeling was not reciprocated. Maybe I was expecting too much from a cat! “Didn’t you buy anything from the succulent store?” Luna curiously asked me. “Well, no, I did not. I am simply exploring the stores for now,” I answered. The cat returned to nibbling the plant disinterestedly. A tourist bent down and petted the cat. Luna fancied the tourist and decided to pose and roll for a photograph. “Hmm…another of those aimless tourist expeditions in the city,” said Luna derisively, the tourist being oblivious to the speaking cat. Perhaps the comment was truly aimed at the tourist and not me, but who knows the workings of a cat mind! In any case, I dared not correct Luna for fear of facing another scathing remark. Instead, I marveled at how comfortable Luna appeared strutting amidst the stores, plants, and flowers.

I was beginning to like Luna’s charming but aloof company. I quickly checked her social account. ‘A cat as comfortable as Luna in those environs must be a resident cat,’ I thought. Luna was a resident, feral cat floor manager of the Extermination Department of the NYC Floral District. She had the distinction of receiving the Employee of the Month Award. The flower district had working felines. Their job was to keep rodents at bay and away from the prized flowers and foliage. The community cats got affection and admiration during the day from the locals and customers. However, the night was a serious business for them; they were on paw-patrol duty for rodents that the flowers attracted. I had recently seen a Netflix documentary on ‘Inside the Mind of a Cat’, which gave a riveting history of working felines.

Luna gave me a few moments to photograph her, but the oncoming crowd in the photograph was clearly not Luna’s problem. As I waited for the crowd to pass, Luna elegantly strutted away, much to my dismay at losing her again. She was ready to cross a busy street, quite ignorant of my fear for her safety. She navigated the traffic with an enviable ease and confidence. I sighed with relief.

As Luna deftly disappeared, avoiding cars and trucks, I continued to New York Flower Group shop #1, called the G.Page Wholesale Flowers. The shop was not much to look at from outside, and the entrance was riddled with ‘No Dogs Allowed’ flyers with scowling, black and white pictures of cats. I gulped in relief at leaving my pup behind, as my mind’s eye saw terrible visions of him being mauled by the ferocious felines on the block. However, my dread was short-lived. A heady store fragrance enveloped me when I opened the rickety door. Ranunculus, calla lilies, roses, carnations, orchids, Gerber daisies, and scores of other tall and short, big and small cut flowers were neatly arranged in rows and stacks. I met Chestnut there.

I was admiring the flowers, smelling their fragrance. The oncoming fat cat looked at me with big, green eyes and screamed, “Lady, get out of my way.” After Luna, I was prepared for this tabby. I said, “I am sorry…?” “Chestnut,” the tabby replied proudly. Chestnut clearly did not like being interrupted in her walk amidst flowers and squinted hard at me aggressively. I was staring at Chestnut for the size, as I mentally calculated how much bigger Chestnut was than my puppy. Chestnut did not appreciate my frank stare nor the fact that I was fumbling with my phone camera. I think Chestnut was trying to figure out my intentions, unlike Luna. But one look at my starstruck eyes, and Chestnut knew I was no better than the million others who visit the store. Ismael Maca, the manager of the store, was kind enough to provide me with a card and rattle off prices of some flowers. Chestnut took that moment, scowled at a newly entered customer, and disappeared from the store. I was left to amble amongst the blooms by myself. “There goes another docent,’ I thought with disappointment.

I decided to mask my disappointment and distracted myself with more flowers. This time it was dried and preserved real flowers. The store is called Abraflora, and they have a couple of stores—one exclusively for their dried, preserved flowers and the other for fresh flowers. The preserved foliage and flowers were neatly arranged in various vibrant shades of dyes and were very reasonably priced. I liked the fact that he did not outright laugh at me when I asked him if I could use the dried flowers with fresh flowers in floral arrangements. He had the grace to humor me. The store was too quiet and clean for either Luna or Chestnut to show me around.

My next stop was at Caribbean Cuts. The store was a tropical paradise. I met Frankie, a salesperson, who was excellent at answering some of my questions. He clearly knew the business. He spent time talking to me and explaining leaves and their sizes. He gifted me a small, decorative pineapple, and I thought that was a sweet gesture. I was delighted to find in the shop dried coconut shells that I could use with a liner for tropical floral arrangements. I was toying with using coconut shells as a vase at one point. Caribbean Cuts, I concluded, would be the best place to provide me with exotic, large flowers for imposing floral arrangements. Frankie was quick to point out that Caribbean Cuts also carried reasonably sized foliage if I visited on the day of delivery. The store made me feel happy. As I stepped out of the store, I saw Luna again at a distance. She no longer appeared relaxed but was crouched and squinting hard at another store. I wondered what she was intent upon, but I decided to let her be.

I was beginning to get tired of the sensory overload and heat. Without Luna and Chestnut, the visit was not half as much fun anymore. Some shops were preparing to shutter already. I decided to check out a few more stores and collect cards before I headed home.

I particularly loved the design of the visiting card of Holiday Foliage Orchids and Plants. They had reasonably priced bamboo and other cuts and plants. Tony at JRose Wholesale stores was really helpful and walked with me talking about flowers and their business. My last stop was at 28th Street Wholesale Flowers. Ironically, it was just like my first stop's experience. Oh! How I missed Luna!

28th Street Wholesale Flowers came close to the indifference of the first store I visited in the area. I had to repeat my name loudly four times to a person who seemed to be a salesperson. All I was hoping for was some conversation about the shop's flowers. However, the man was more interested in looking at his phone than looking at me when I repeated my name. He did not seem like someone who managed the store or was interested in the store’s well-being as an employee. Perhaps it was nearing closing time for the store, but I found the person’s behavior odd in a capitalistic but diverse city. ‘My name is ethnic but a common name and not at all hard to pronounce,’ I thought furiously.

From here I crossed the street and reversed my walk. I checked out a few stores that sold floral, garden, and decorative products for florists, such as Jamali Garden and B & J Florist Supply. I loved these stops, as they were old-fashioned stores where I actually touched the product before I decided to buy it. There were no hassles or returns, unlike online shopping.

I took a subway back home and saw my usual flower vendor. In contrast to where I just came from, the flowers seemed ordinary and routine. I decided my next floral arrangement has to be with accessories and flowers from the famed NYC Flower District. I was answerable to Luna and Chestnut for being more than just a tourist.