Nandan hadn’t felt anything remotely like this ever since Nitya Stephens, his first love, moved far away from him and into an arranged marriage. That was then, about five years ago. This was in the present. Between the times the hopeless romantic in him, was taking refuge under the shell of an astute academician.
The utmost care for perfecting the check-out stamps on books showed Grace’s passion for her work.
“How long have you worked at the Library?” Nandan asked curiously.
“Next month will be my 30th anniversary. Are you visiting from America? My grandson is studying computers in New York.” Grace responded swiftly in an endearing tone.
He thanked her and then softly slipped in a question, rather skeptically, “Grace, umm…May I ask you something…ummm.”
He was abruptly interrupted by the enthusiastic Librarian. Even a charming psychic reader would take slightly longer, but Grace, reminded of her youth, interjected with a friendly smile “Neha Rai, it is! She visits the Library every Wednesday afternoon, sharp at 2pm. If you come again next week, you will see her here, at the same table. More importantly, she doesn’t add sugar in her coffee.”
The virtually perpetual wait for Nandan began just as he boarded a taxi to head back to his grandparents’ house. An otherwise short twenty minutes ride seemed much longer. The small by-lane, in the upscale Palace Orchards area, was low on activity for the afternoon as the taxi pulled in front of the big gated compound. As he walked into the house, he paid no attention to the newspaper lying in the front yard.
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