SAFE HAVEN

I opened the door and quietly sneaked in.

And was immediately hit by the familiar scent of what was the only thing that felt like home lately. The room is dimly lit, almost dark, but for the flickering bulb refusing to die just yet. Had it not been for the ricketing excuse of a fan; hanging on a wire (literally), it would have been so quiet you could even hear your eyes blink. Well, the fan, and Raj Anna. Raj Anna is gently snoring in the corner, perched comfortably on his worn out rocking chair;the only perk of working in this hundred year old library, as he often tells me. And I always disagree, for each page of the gazillion books sitting gracefully on the shelf tops offer you infinitesimal reasons of spending hours, even days over here. I tiptoe to my corner of the dusty books filled with yellowing pages and tattered jackets. Battered and torn and used and abused, much like me. But also loved and cherished and still useful, perhaps like me. 

"What is it going to be today, miss?" I ask myself as I take one. The title has almost faded from the spine and the front jacket is covered with an inch of dust. "The perfect canvas." I muse, tracing flowers and stars over the dusty jacket. The corner has perhaps been eaten up by moths so all I can read is Pride and Preju-. Well who cares about the corners anyway. A little something written in blue calligraphy peeps at me from the torn corner.
"Dear Jeeru,
I don't know if it was pride that kept me away from you all this time, or my prejudice of the odds always being against us. But I guess

that doesn't matter anymore, for what is Mr. Darcy save for his Liz. (Saved by her too.)
Always.
Ajay."
I smile as a treacherous tear goes astray. Atleast some always would stand the test of time, even if only between the pages of the book, I think, as I open one more door and quietly sneak in.