I spent a really nice day with my mom today. I had this idea in my head that I wanted to go to an area in the city called Little India, or, as I learned today, it's really called Gerrard India Bazaar. I needed to buy samosas for my friend Edward's goodbye party tomorrow and knew I'd be able to find them there. What a colourful place! Honestly, it was one of those days where you are in your own city, but feel like you are on vacation. The colours of the Saris are incredibly gorgeous, and I so wish that I had the opportunity to wear one. Years ago, my X and I were invited to an Indian wedding in London, England. There were about 300 people there, and the women were beautiful beyond words in their saris. Since we were travelling, and the invitation was impromtu, the only dress I had with me was a boring brown wool dress. I looked like a little mouse in amongst a rainbow of vibrant shades! Actually, now that I think of it, there is a really sad story associated with the couple who were married. They were from a very wealthy family, and had moved to Tanzania where the family business was. One night, about 2 years after they were married, when the bride was home alone, robbers came into the home and murdered her with a machete. Weird, I haven't thought about that in years.
I didn't really mean to bring up something so sad, especially since my mom and I had such a nice day, and that was what I had wanted to write about.