Right decisions never call for regrets. At any point of time when we look back at it and still feel the same way that we did when we first made up our minds, we know we had made the right decision. I had made my most important right decision on the 19th of August, 2007, I tell myself. That’s the day when I committed myself to marrying my husband who, today, at this morning hour as I wake up, lays wriggled under his blanket like a grown-up kid beside me. His face is calm and serene and to my sleepy eyes they seem almost innocent, signifying deep drowned slumber, much in contrast to the thousand monkey expressions that he makes at me during the day to see a smile stay put on my face. I smile at him now, even without his funny expressions. I had made a right decision! Touch wood!
The clock warns me to either be up and ready for the ITPL bus or bunk office at loss of pay. As much as I desired to yield in to the second option, I decided against it. Having just prided myself for my right decision, I wouldn’t want to make a wrong one on the spur of the moment. A quick bath under the shower, a quick sip of hot coffee and I was ready to be transported to the other corner of the city where my office and desk awaits me.
