Happy happy post

I was told I write a lot of morose things. I write a lot about deaths. So I do. Maybe it's a personality disorder, OCD types. Normally I am not a depressed or depressing sort of person. But I do have a habit of reading too much into things. (Hubby blames it on the scorpio mentality.) And one thing leads to another. Like I start a post on a normal note and then I digress, logically of course, and before I know it I have linked up some other incidents and when I am done with the whole freaking post, I had no idea what I wanted to write about in the first place. And hoping it is not OCD but the scorpio bit that is responsible, I conclude that this disorder is here to stay since I cannot change the time or day I was born. (Of course, my parents never bargained for OCD types when they conceived a november baby.)

And to prove I can write happy things, I am narrating a happy Saturday evening. Happiness started Friday afternoon when Mukta took me to heaven. We walked out in the light drizzle and I trusted Mukta knew the way, as all I saw ahead was a hill and the straight tree lined road ending. Suddenly she turned to the side and led us into the most enchanting garden. Trees and trees, and shrubs, growing wildly and very wet. Narrow zig zag paths winded up and down and around. The path was covered with green and yellow fallen leaves, wet again. I skipped uphill and ran downhill screaming, "I love this! I love this!" The rains beat down faster. We sprinted out of heaven and entered the Java coffee joint, nearby.

Sipping on hot chocolate, I said, "Come home today. We'll go out in the night, meet friends and drive all over in the rain!"

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," I assured.

Back in office, the plan changed. J was game too and the plan moved to Mukta's area of residence and drinking was included. (Area is a very important decision making factor in this city, believe me! Also, drinking and driving never went together.)

And Saturday night, it was shifted to.

Since we were going to drink in Kahini's living room (goes by the name of Toto's too), I sent a frantic sms asking her to join us. When I asked if 9.30pm was too early, she laughed so hard I could hear it at my end of the sms! 8pm is the latest you could hope to find a table, I was informed.

Come Sat evening, I wrapped myself in hubby's windcheater from head to knee and headed towards my night of fun. At 8pm, Mukta and I find ourselves smiling at every waiter and begging for a table. Mukta, tall and regal, in her scarlet windcheater and me dwarfed and buried in the hideous wet thing which she refused to let me take off, in case the smiles didn't work and we had to leave. You see, Mukta didn't know our Kahini yet, I knew her better. So within 5 minutes of Kahini arriving, we had a table for 6 miraculously ready for us!

We ate. We drank. We laughed. Like I haven't done in some time. Women bonds, I tell you. Nothing can beat that. I know I talked a lot. I know I spilled out colourful past deeds, and screamed above the great music to make sure the others heard. And finally at 1.30am, the owner gave a list of places still open and led us out.

With the rest going their ways, Mukta and I refused a drop and preferred to walk. The short walk was the most soothing, most soul cleansing walk I had in ages. I HAD TO go up to Mukta's lovely apartment to meet her lizzy. I don't blame lizzy for setting up base there. Even I wanted to. Her place is too cozy. Hubby lands up and while Mukta and he had coffee and he narrated all the things only he could talk of and Mukta laughed at all the things only she could find funny, I caught a few candid shots of them on the phone camera. And if privacy wasn't an issue, I would have posted the pics there. They prove what happy moments are made of.

And today, a hoarse throat (I love my voice now), a maid who didn't turn up, an unmade bed and clothes in a heap cannot take away my happiness. So there!

Excuse me, I have to go wash my hands again.