So my computer has been pleading me to clean up and make some space for the last few weeks and I finally obliged yesterday.
And while I doing so, I came across some pictures from the years gone by. Pictures of friends, parties at our home, of our travels, and even before when my husband and I were just seeing each other.
We looked so relaxed in those pics.
Shoes kicked off, trying new things, having a blast.
It was so good to see those pictures that I almost cried from the sheer joy of remembering the lived past.
There was a picture of that day when we celebrated the birthday of one of our really close friends at our house. I cooked (delicious food) and the husband was responsible for heating up some fries; which he did of course for 25 minutes in a wok-ful of oil which ended up causing a small fire which heated up not just the kitchen but also my mood!
And then that day when we went dancing with friends and I slipped on a stair and brought down a friend with me and she went home with a few stitches (not a proud moment for me!).
And of course, those nights with friends, spent awake till wee hours, paying homage to the genius that is A.R.Rahman.
It seemed like another era altogether, because the last few months seem like a video on loop. And it would be so much fun to see it in time lapse.
We wake up, play with baby, bathe and feed baby, take baby to school, work, bring baby back, play with baby, bathe and feed baby, get the baby to sleep, eat occasionally and finally go to bed too exhausted to even say good night.
Partying, friends, dinners seem like such unnecessary activities that we actually think about things like “do we really need to have fun that badly that we’ll drive from Powai to Lower Parel?”
As expected, the quested is answered when one of us has already quickly gotten into pyjamas and is usually a resounding no.
But lately, the ‘youth’ in us is springing back to life. And so on one of the nights when the baby slept early and my mom-in-law was feeling good, we left him in her care and went out to Harry’s, a cute little pub in our part of the city.
The music was great rock classics and we sang non-stop for an hour over a drink each and some fried food and asked for the cheque.
That one hour of ‘young’ time was so incredible and refreshing that ironically, we felt like our old selves again.
Note to self: Have got to do this again and soon.