The Five-Minute Relationship

Punjabi University Patiala, aka PUP, is the university that gave me my story. One of the best years of my life was spent at this university. My graduation years. From the very beginning, I was fond of books consequently of libraries too. One can say that if I had the chance, I would even sleep in the library. That was the level of my nerdiness. I was not interested in syllabi books, rather just poetry and history is what amazed me the most. I always imagined myself to be a character in history or one of the admirers of that poet. It all felt so amazing until one day, a new character entered the stage where my life was being played.

I was standing in line at the library reception desk to get my hands on Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. I was looking for a book for a long time. Don’t know who in the hell kept it issued for almost a month. Today I finally found the book on the rack and grabbed it at once. I didn’t want to wait anymore to read this iconic legend. So here, I was standing in line to get it issued. All of a sudden the girl in front of me lost her balance and dropped her books on the floor. As a gesture of goodwill, I helped her gather the books. I noticed that she was also carrying Shakespeare’s books.

“Thanks for the help”, she said in her sweet voice. Sweet or mesmerising, I cannot really differentiate at this moment. I wanted to say “You’re Welcome” but before I could say anything, my heart started to pound at an alarming rate. Something weird happened to me. Not the bad weird, but the good weird. It felt like I found a long-lost treasure. I found Juliet. My heart started to dance at an unknown rhythm. Instead of a normal natural reply, my unconscious ass rhymed.

“Who is thy, the owner of a sweet smile, an angel came from heaven or Juliet in search of her Romeo”, I was still on one knee with a hand forward, like proposing to her. Now, live this moment with me. You are in front of a beautiful lady, who has the same literary likes as yours. You are on one knee, a hand forward, and just rhymed an amazing original pickup line.

“Wow, that was great, did you write it yourself”, she said with a light laugh and with amazement in her eyes. My senses kicked me back into reality when I heard her laugh. I immediately apologized.

“I am so sorry, it is unexplainable why I did that”, I apologized with a shy smile.

“No, it was great dude, I wish I could also rhyme like that. Anyway, I see you are issuing Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream, it is a great book. You wanna know the story”, she said with a mischievous grin. When you have seen the movie a day before your friend and you just want to tease them with spoilers, you carry a grin all the time around them. She had the same grin.

“Spare me from the spoilers, good lady,. I want to enjoy every single word of this love story”.

“Great choice,” She said with yet another smile.

We both waited for our turns at the reception to issue our respective books. All at once it started raining. Maybe it was a God’s signal of Romeo meeting Juliet or it can be possible that it was just the month of March and clouds were dense that day. I personally prefer the first assumption. Anyways, I took a seat nearby and started to read my book. She sat on the seat next to me.  Am I a fool? A girl who literally seems to be interested in sharing my thoughts on Shakespeare is sitting next to me and I am reading a book? Well, not reading technically, just looking at the alphabets written in black on a white paper. 

After a few moments of just the sound of rain, she said, “Can you suggest some other writers? I am almost bored with reading Shakespeare only.”

“Let me think, if you liked Shakespeare, you can go for Leo Tolstoy or George Bernard Shaw. They both write great too” I said, staring at pages that were not blank, still unfathomable.

She opened her book too and started to read. On the other hand, I was just pretending to read. Instead of focusing on the girl next seat, I was thinking about how I rhymed that good or the more important question, why did I rhyme for her. Once I onboard the train of introspection and asked such questions, the stoppage was very far. 

“You should turn the page to pretend that you are reading unless anyone can guess that you are just pretending to read,” she said while looking in her book. She caught me red-handed there. I was about to reply “Guilty as charged”  when she spoke again. “It’s better to move out now, the rain is slow”

“Wait, I have an umbrella. Don’t get sick” I said. I reached out to my bag in the racks next to the entry gate. “Would you like to share an umbrella with a fellow artist?” I asked in a British accent. She laughed a bit and replied,” Oh good sir, thanks for saving me from the arrows of sky.” 

I opened the door of the library and we both exited under the same umbrella. We both were standing too close to each other not for romantic purposes, just so that none of us would get wet. Her hand touched mine and I felt the same increase in my heartbeat at an alarming rate. I felt all the feelings again but this time one thing was different. Now I knew why it was happening and I was conscious about it.

Her hostel was the first in the path so I dropped her off. While she was entering the gates of her hostel, I said, “Let’s discuss Midsummer Night's Dream, tomorrow in the library at 4:00 PM” I shouted loud enough so that she could hear me clearly under the rumbling clouds.

In reply, she said, “I will be waiting for you Romeo the reader of romantic books but first I have a question to ask from you.” 

“Sure, what is it”

“If you had an umbrella, why didn’t you use it earlier?”

“Oh, I will answer that tomorrow at the library, I have to come up with a good reason so that I don't make a fool out of myself,” I said while walking out of her sight and waving goodbye. I went to my hostel. Inside my room, I was struggling to concentrate on the book. My mind was just replaying the short and sweet trip under the umbrella which I shared with my Cinderella.

I was so eagerly waiting for the next day to arrive so that I could again spend some time with her at the library and discuss one of the most romantic books. To pass this tough time, I opened my WhatsApp and started looking at status uploads of my contacts. I saw a "Janta Curfew" news kind of thing over there. On further research, it came out that due to Covid19, the whole of India will have to go under lockdown. In the panic of being locked inside the university, I packed my bags in a hurry and went to the bus stand to take a bus for my hometown. I was not the only one there, many other students were at the bus stand too. It looked like almost all the students were doing the same.

When I reached my hometown after 3 hours of journey, I freshened up and opened my bag. I saw the book. Swiftly the library girl came into my mind and I felt like going back to meet her immediately but it was not possible now. Maybe she also went home. Maybe we were only together for that small lovely moment. I should have asked her name. I was under a little self-guilt for not asking her personal details when a thought came to my mind. The library book must have her name on the issue card. Proud of my mind for coming up with such a brilliant idea when it was under so much pressure from my heart, I said thank you to myself. I opened the book in a swift motion and looked at the issue card. There an initial “K” and “She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named” was written.

She must have erased her name before returning the book because she held on to it for almost a month. This felt smart and funny to me as well as a little sad at the same time. That five minutes relationship that I had with her came to an end. Those five minutes were long enough to become my memories and at the same time, short enough to make me want to go back in time and relive that moment longer. I may or may not meet her again but I can surely say that if it was the stage and my life was being played, I would love to play this part, again and again, only this time, a little longer. Those five minutes were like the winter mornings, where we just say five more minutes and again five more minutes before leaving the blanket. Five more minutes of this five-minute relationship.