The Last Leaf

As the leap day dimmed into slow darkness, Clover Center gleamed a spark less bright: A 63 year old legacy had hung its boots; was homeward bound.

I rode through the throbbing streets, a deep ache pounding at the walls of my soul— the same ache I felt as a 14-year old on a school stage, voice trembling with passion:

‘But O Heart, heart, heart,

O the bleeding drops of red

Where on the deck my captain lies

Fallen cold and dead’

  

I was out of town when a newspaper report broke the news to Poona that Manney’s was shutting shop.

Needless to say, I was heartbroken.

I rode down to town the very next weekend, 

to my favourite haunt. 

To breathe in the place. 

To feel its magic.

As I pushed the door open, I stopped in my tracks:

There were people sticking out of every nook and corner.

People of all shapes and sizes.

Rummaging through the pillars of books.

Hauling what they could.

At giveaway prices.

It was the beginning of the end.

I wandered down the aisles, soaking up memories:

Of the long hours spent looking high and low

on bent knees, on tired tip-toes

pouncing on a forgotten poem, a childhood tale

with the delight of a puppy who found a hidden bone.

I tucked into my memory box

The low hanging fans,

The books reaching the roof,

The smile of the attendants,

The quiet rustle of leaves;

To last me past the sounds of silence...

There are bookstores and there are booksellers.

And there is Manney’s.

Where books and their lovers come home.

Thank you Mr. Mani for gifting this city and its million book lovers a lifetime’s worth of memories.


Ref: Manney's