Arakshi SS - Between the Pages of a Book - *Complete* pg 50 - Epilogue

Prologue

Charing Cross. The place he had always wanted to come to but life had never really offered him a chance. And now his desire seemed to have faded with time. He sighed as he glanced at the bundle of books in his arms. His fingers brushed over the frayed cover of the book that was so dear to her. Once. The book that had marked a new beginning for him and her. But now, she was gone and would never come back. So why should he keep hanging on to the memories?

His eyes wandered over to the bookshop at the corner of the street. It had a certain charm about it; something that made him approach the glass doors, his eyes transfixed on the old worn-out sigh just above it.

He hesitated at the stone steps just outside the shop, his hands lingering on the round wooden handle of the door. Through the glass he could see the shelves of books lining the walls. Both old and new. The colourful spines beckoned him from the shelves, forcing him to turn the wooden handle.

The old, musty smell of books wafted through the door as he swung it open. A familiar, warm feeling spread through him, curving his lips into a faint smile, ever so slightly. Books always made him feel welcome and at home. So many stories waiting inside the spines of the novels.

Some real, some not so real.

"Hi! How can I help you?" An old man with half-moon glasses called out at him from behind the counter on his left. He was clad in a colourful sweater and a grey pair of trousers. He somehow seemed to blend in with the surroundings, with his warm, wrinkled face and his pale-blue eyes that twinkled at him from behind his spectacles.

"I want to donate these books to the store." He said.

His hands held out the bundle of books to the man behind the counter.

"You want to give your books away?" The old man's voice held a tinge of the pain he was feeling, giving away the books that had once adorned his shelf.

He sighed, placed the books on the wooden counter and said, "These weren't mine. They belonged to my wife. The books have lost their reader."

The old man's face changed, pain now clearly evident on his face.

"She isn't around anymore. I see." The old man sighed and dragged the books towards him. His fingers brushed over the worn-out cover of the book that was her favourite. The one that meant the most to him.

"Pride and Prejudice. Every girl's favourite novel I presume." The old man smiled and moved the books to the shelf behind him.

As he was about to leave, the old man called out again, "Are you sure about giving up her belongings, son?"

He bit his lips at the door, his eyes scanning the busy crowd outside the glass doors. Smiling, laughing...a happy crowd. A world that awaited him. And for that, he had to move on. Nothing lasts forever, he knew. He had to let go now. It was time to make another start. He couldn't hang on to her forever. Even though he wanted to.

And, he wanted to feel happiness again. He hadn't felt it in a long time. He wanted new memories.

He sighed and said to the old man, "Yes. It is time to move on."

Little did he know, that the book he left behind in that old bookshop, had a little note hidden in it. The note that had once connected her to him. The note that he, ACP Arjun Rawte had once sent to his wife, his Roshni. The note that she had kept hidden all those years, between the pages of a book.

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