Jeyanth is a person who would instantly muse about any thought in this life. In the garden of lilies, he would be the busy bee. His simple articles always sneak into some corner of his daily print to keep his needs meet the rim of the wages. His lif...
The winds dwindle as I step in front of the great iron gate. Its peaks made sharp now stand as a blunted curve with their long legs bolted with golden buttons along their linear keepers. Fresh little paper flower shrubs were grown to the perfection of a green wall everywhere. The muddy grounds with half-buried pebbles gave a subtle welcome, guiding anyone to the neatly polished steps upon them.
"Don't do this, Jey. Why do I feel it to be a trap?"
Every caution Inder had given never turned useless. As for today, I did pick the left. I entered the building, mumbling a soft prayer.
Hope. Just hope.
I pressed my shirt to calm my heart. For some unknown reason, they suddenly loved racing in a marathon. Sighing as deep as I could, I walked down the colonial structure with archangel patterns and swiftly carved alleyways painted in age-old whites. They were brighter on the inside, a pure contrast to the moss-weather prints left on the exterior, the bittersweet scars of the past.
"Good day, mam. I'm here to get some books."
Her little puffy eyes narrowed as she skimmed through my completely formal attire. Her brows rose when they landed on the polished leather shoe, paired with perfectly matching socks.
"Clearly not. But not my business. Card, please."
Her subtle gesture did mock louder at my stupid beginning. But without making it worse, I pushed the card that I had never used since my college days on the long polished wooden desk. Typing something on the computer her face grew plain.
"Oh, it's expired. Would you like to renew it?"
"Yes, sure."
"Tenure of two years is fine? It's the minimum."
Sweet and sassy. She did definitely knew I was not going to be here again for any good reason. I pushed the money she worded and climbed the stairs.
"Oh Jey, be aware of the way. If you might need anything from the south block don't go in without our staff. Hope you understand."
At once my lips gaped at her wider than my eyes. She symbolically drew the tag-like gesture around her neck, making me understand she did notice where I was from. Pushing out a sheepish smile, I removed it and pushed it into my side pockets.
Clearly, this woman is a witch!
At once my mind irked, making me climb down to her.
"Is it true that people go missing from there?"
Her thirties wrinkled into sixties upon my worries.
"What a strong rumour you have brought for a tea-time gossip."
Does that mean it's not true?
"The long hallways may seem like a maze but I assure you it's a safe place, sir."
She pushed a glass of water to calm my nerves. I did sip some to soothe my head.
"Thanks!"
Her flimsy tap on those stacked papers didn't match with her suddenly warm smile. Without making it a point, I climbed up to notice the map bearing the structure in its needed details. Quickly clicking the picture, I walked to the porch. The musty odour of pages kissed a warm hello. As far as I could see, nearly thirty people were hovering their eyes over pages of multiple books.
Oh, the patience they have!
I could glance at a few people walking through the stacked bookshelves. Their eyes pried on the titles of the covers and some reading the headlines sitting at the middle table that was arranged for people who accompany the readers.
Sufferings sufferings everywhere!
I giggled earning some stares, making me move faster to the end of the hallway. A lone corridor neatly laid with marbles stretched to the right with a wooden board painted in yellow strokes.
This way to the south.
A bubble of burn knotted on my stomach as I read the cursive fonts. For a moment, I felt like someone accompanied me from behind.
"Heading to the south sir?"
Her caffeine-coated eyes brimmed with enthusiasm.
"Yes."
"I'm Suparna, the librarian."
She extended her arms towards the right, bringing my notice to her feather-printed kurta.
Or kurti.
Should be the latter. The fabric had a pattern of intricate flowery embroidery with some dotted glitter mini disks. Those ruffled green pants pecked the floors as she swayed to walk to a two-seater vehicle.
Wait! Since when was it used here?
The polished surfaces shimmered with the bright colours of a starry night. The turbo wheels designed for friction moved as she pulled the lever.
"The ride is free. Don't worry, Mr?"
"Jey. A journalist."
Her lips faded to a thin smile. Something that I couldn't understand but kept courteous.
"It would take a minute or two."
Stating that she pushed the lever forward. I folded my arms as I relaxed. Something about her made me feel at ease.
Perhaps the curly lashes. The fawn-like eyes. The sharp curve of the nose.
"You here to visit the south zone in need of?"
She broke the quietude to let my thoughts retire to their den. I began to stutter for words.
"Cooks."
"Excuse me?"
"Shit- Books. Books, yes. For an assignment."
She fancied a laugh at my dumb blurts, but my attention was gripped by the natural shine on her melanin-tinted lips, adding an ethereal beauty to her sun-kissed skin.
"Could you brief the purpose?"
"Oh, that. Anything that suits mystery."
The mention of the word made her pull the vehicle to a halt. My eyes widened in a sweep of shock.
"You seem like someone who wants some rumours."
"No. I didn't-"
"Ah, just kidding. Enjoy the zone. The less explored."
We stepped down as she parked the vehicle. Slowly she pushed the glass door open, making her shawl flaunt its tail as those creases revealed a flower. When they rested, my brows flinched.
A red lily!
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