Free Gone By by Beatone Hajong

with her. In fact, I liked her as good female personality. She glanced at me as our cab moved on.
    “Were you thinking something” she hinted at me as there occurred silence within us for long. Every time she tried to crisscross me with some sort of question it shuddered me. I put myself into some silence for seconds to reply at her words “No...nothing on my mind”.
    She shift closer to me. The car accelerated faster. The time at my wrist watch kept circling. I glanced once to know what’s the hour. It’s the 1:00pm noon. Yet to reach the final spot of destination. Road shaping straight and curving away and the sudden turn of its wheel setting us back together colliding our body with each other as the steering turned on.
    “That’s awesome drive” Isha managed to heckle.
    “Ouchhh!!!!” she screamed softly as my body collided with her following the turn of the taxi wheel. It was almost hour drive to the library. The distance came closer and shortened. Finally we reached the library entrance. The car stopped it’s engine. Pushed my hand to open the door. I laid aside as I was out of car for Isha to make a way out. The fare meter collected the taxi fare and swift away. We stood under the roof of huge building, few steps ahead the doorway to the entrance of the library. We generated our walk to head on. Before the entrance we had to make out a permit pass. There was an office before the main door, placed aside for every people to distribute passes entrance for all. We need not to stand in queue as there were rare crowds unlike any mall or cinema hall. I granted for two passes for each. And headed on to move through the hugely designed glass door. I had to apply slightly more stamina to open the hard stable glass door. I kept holding it until Isha completely in with me. It seemed the library was constructed with rare design with lots of empty spaces all around. Some historical monumental sculpture engraved on the walls and those of heavy pillars that stood upright and strong. We were searching for the cultural section for Isha’s thesis on Indian heritage.
    “Is this thesis of yours going to get published out” I ruled on my voice.
    “Yeah, I would love to do that” she replied as we moved on to the cultural section stepping up above those stairs to the next floor.
    We avoided using the elevator. Her hand bag hanged from her shoulder and I could see it’s vibrating movements due to her motion as she walked on and me behind following her. We came though aisle of racks filled with books and still we were on search for the one that Isha needed.
    “Is it something you are going to extract out” I put out my interest to know.
    “Yeah! You can say that” she shrugged.
    She finally stopped before a huge rack filled with volume of pages.
    “Wow...it’s incredible” my voice fumbled looking at those genres of collection under the metallic cupboard.
    Isha sparked out in cloud of realm joy. Without wasting much time she quickened to begin the search of a book that would provide her houseful of information about Indian rich heritage   culture. I could thorough her curiosity at her face, the depth of her interest in knowing Indian culture. Since her childhood she was brought up just like the other American. Yet beyond dream to think about, that she took the chance to know about her ancestor. I was tentatively overwhelmed and impressed by her such area of activity. She asked me to join the search, a small helping contribution she wanted.
    “Hey! Could you help me out for sorting out the best book” she stretched her eyes wide looking at the huge metallic rack.
    “Sure” I admitted with no detention.
    So we began our search from the bottom row with all the books settled decoratively row wise. I cruised my finger tips swiftly through the lining of books settled in alphabetical order. Those with huge size I seized to have a look flipping some pages of it.
    “So, tell me something about Anannya” Isha squinted