The tree-top outside was shedding its leaves. He approached the sofa, sat down and looked at his watch. Then suddenly realising something his face flushed as if he has just fitted exactly a square peg in a round hole. He went to the dresser and opened it instantly with such a jerk that the drawer came out completely and fell on the floor spreading about a hundred or so greeting cards and a few diaries here and there. He started putting the things back in the drawer, slowly; looking at each item curiously. It was not until fifteen minutes had passed that he returned to the sofa with three cards. All those time his mind was overflowing with her thoughts. It was hardly a week since he read the review of the book in the papers. He was not sure that it was she until the letter came. His memory ran riot - reviving memories of ten years past. Did he forget her? No! Often in idleness he would let his mind wander down the years and recall, among other things, that she was one among those who were infatuated by him. A sense of pleasure used to fill him and make him blush, even now whenever his mind was time-travelling.

"Was it only infatuation?", he mused.

He opened one of those cards, with anxiety making his fingers shiver as if he was a teenage lover holding his beloved's billet-doux. He read:

MERRY CHRISTMAS

-to Sir with 'love'...

Juliana.

He opened the second one and read:

Dear Richard,

MERRY CHRISTMAS

With love,

Juliana.

And then the third one:

Dear Richard Sir,

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Love,

Juliana.

"Infatuation?", he asked himself.

Undecided, he saw a glimmer of hope and took out last week's newspapers from under the table. He looked at her picture. She looked hardly twenty-two but her persona was mature. She looked more mature than he had ever looked An unknown person will give her more respect than to him and think her to be more experienced too. He was at least eight years older than she was and ten years ago he thought that eight years was an unbridgebale gap. He felt himself himself so superior to the students he taught. He would laugh at their mistakes, at their petty problems at ... at anything; at their infatuation. And ten years hence...? Was he really superior to them or was it just a superiority-complex? They have grown but he too has grown. And she? It seemed as if that every year added to his age aded twice to hers. Has he read somewhere that between a boy and a girl of the same age, the girl is usually more mature? He can't remember Anyway that was not his case. Maybe, the boy catches up in old age. But, she? Had he sent her "Thank you" cards...? Had he kept contact with her...? Had he encouraged her...? And in course of time had he ... propo...? In course of time...? Maybe this time? Old bachelor boy that he was, he still is. And she?- from an infatuated girl to an established novelist !

"Maybe if I would'nt have been in her life she would'nt have been what she is today. How will she react if I start scolding her as I used to do?", he laughed. The door opened and her arrival was announced.

He will address her as "Juliana"; no doubt. But how will she address him?

She entered with a small boy of three or so beside her. He stood up and stared at her. As she came up he forwarded his hands to be shaken. She shook hands silently. He looked down and lifted the small, plump, child in his arms and said, "My child". He looked at her face and found it nonchalant. Then she spoke, "This is Bob."

After she had left, he picked up the novel that she presented to him and opened it. He skipped the page, "About the author", and read the next page,

To my Dearest Mr.Sheridan,

A keepsake

-With love

Juliana.

It was almost time, to go for his class.

Copyright: Amit Shankar Saha (2001)