Have you ever had a weekend of so much fun and wonder that it felt like a week?
Friday morning, I drove to Montreal with R., and then went to K.’s place where I met his friend T., from Germany, who is staying with him. At 6 pm, we decided to buy some beer and go to the top of Mont Royal to the observatory. We packed a little picnic, drove to Beaver Lake, walked up, and got lost. So a fifteen-minute impromptu hike through the woods later, we reached the huge balcony that looked over the city. A fine drizzle had begun to fall. We made our way back down, found a dry picnic bench under a tree, and ate our picnic. That’s when it began to pour cats and dogs. The bedspread T.., K., and I held over our heads for shelter was sopping within minutes, and pouring through. We ran for shelter amidst thunder and lightning to a strange looking sculpture that we thought might offer a roof, but it was cut out like a doughnut from the center, and there was nowhere to hide. So we gave up gladly. We took off our shoes and walked barefoot through the park under the torrential rainfall. We pretended we were in a Bollywood film and ran around trees, skipped through the grass, danced around like fools. After an hour, the rain stopped. We went home, changed into warm clothes and drove to Jolee, to eat hot sambhar and masala dosas. I felt a little ill after, because of the accumulated stress of school and thesis, jobs and etc. for the last month, and I think it caught up to me, because I behaved completely unlike myself and went to bed at 11 pm.