At the entrance, he lunged to open the towering teakwood door. As the heavy-set door creaked open quietly, he thought out loud setting his foot in – spring brings love in a whip of fresh air, I love it.
A middle-aged woman welcomed him with a rather rushed greeting, “Good morning.”
So engrossed was Nandan in admiring the high ceiling and architecture of the Tuscan and Corinthian structure that he virtually looked past the petite lady standing in front.
The rather heavy voice reiterated, “Good morning, how can I help you?”
While Nandan’s mind was racing up with a momentary thought that she was as frail as a falling leaf, he quickly registered the name on the tag – Grace Thomas.
“Hi Grace, good morning. I need help with few books. Can I give you the titles and authors?” Nandan said hesitantly pulling out the little notebook. A pencil sat lodged through its coil binding.
For someone living in the technology-laden modern society, Nandan had a fair bit of old-world nuances intact in him. Be it theology or crime fiction, two of his favorite genre, he would frequent the book stores and libraries to peruse literature in crisp print. He had the digital counterparts reserved for the occasional reading before bedtime. For his spring break, he knew what was on top of his to-read list – Indian crime fiction!
Grace handed the three books and navigated him to a secluded reading area in the north-east corner of the main hall.
“Thank you,” uttered Nandan in a soft voice sporting an exuberant smile.
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