I feel the pleasures of the eye before everything else. Someone glides past in a shaded sari flowing from grey to flame orange, I see a figure in exquisite embroidered powder blue, a vision in mint green chiffon, and suddenly flash of brilliant red lipstick. Elsewhere an optimist wearing a set of rubies, necklace, bracelet, earrings and rings, in full blaze at lunchtime…

And the conversations; gossip, mostly all wrong: nobody is quite sure whose niece divorced whose grandson, and when and why. Clothes, shoes, and travel, and occasionally doctors.

For a few hours, we put aside our adult responsibilities and concerns and revert in a fashion to girl-hood. We indulge in silly jokes, arguments, compliments, slander, and reminiscences of schoolgirl mischief.

Meanwhile in one corner the Association of Serene Grandmothers discuss the best face cream: Nivea, says one. No, no, Ponds vanishing cream says another. Forget all that synthetic stuff, use virgin coconut oil, says a third. 

These women have found themselves. They no longer seek approval, and won't pay for dreams in a jar at a thousand dollars a shot. They will not buy designer bags, or wear big jewels; they have donated those long since to daughters and daughters-in-law. By chance I see a pretty foot in a beaded sandal. How lovely, I exclaim. "I buy all my shoes from Bata," the owner of the foot says comfortably. 

Someone else has let her hair turn grey. "I cannot be bothered to keep touching up every few weeks; I have better things to do," she says.

Some of these Golden Ladies have run IT businesses, some have held very senior posts in international organisations or been professors, and some have written learned tomes or science fiction; but the one quality they have in common is a tranquil simplicity, indicative of a life well-lived, and a retirement well-earned. 

Miss Elegant though, still delights in coordinating clothes and accessories, and runs a home where she serves perfect Italian meals with all the right ingredients, with no improvisations. Miss Brilliant listens quietly and speaks rarely, but when she does, everyone falls silent to listen. Miss Fidget rushes in and out in the shortest possible time, her phone ringing constantly. Miss Popular is well loved, tactful and direct. Miss Moody never knows whether she will go out or stay home till the last minute. Miss Success is modest, and desires only that there be lots of cashews in the Chinese chicken, and no bones in the mutton; and she loves her dessert. Miss Sporty who loved Rounders and was the strongest most prefect-like type in school, became a college principal, to nobody's surprise. 

Every woman in the room has had a dose of Life in the form of grief, heartbreak, or illness. There were choices to be made, losses to be borne, and setbacks to be endured. The human experience prepares us to revel in the numerous good things, and be patient in the bad times. Everything passes, after all, even Life.