Day 62.
Happiness is reading a book by your favourite author.
Happiness is reading an Alexander McCall Smith.
Happiness is when another McCall Smith arrives by courier while you are still reading one.
Happiness is knowing there are two more McCall Smiths on the way.
Happiness is blue, like the sky.
Happiness is pink, like my sari.
Happiness is wearing a sari gifted with love on my anniversary.
Happiness is a pair of pearl earrings gifted by my husband on my first birthday after my marriage.
Happiness is getting a pair of pearl bangles to match on the same birthday.
Happiness is thinking every waking moment about a trip to the city of pearls to meet friends as precious as freshwater pearls.
Happiness (peppered with annoyance, I admit) is watching my mother and mother-in-law try their best to turn into ace photographers for my sari post pictures.
Happiness is finding happiness in little things.
Happiness is a mug of tea before going to work.
Happiness is enjoying the moment like Mma Ramotswe with her cup of bush tea.
Happiness is being lost in thought, like Isabel.
Happiness is a little bit of madness. Like being lost in thought and handing over the Metro smart card instead of money to the rickshaw-wallah.
Happiness is knowing sometimes strangers do care, like the cop warning me that my phone is about to slip from my grip.
Happiness is life.
Happiness is me.

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