To the moon and back

Thursday night. The clock showed 9:03 PM. Kids were in bed. Saathi zoned out in front of the TV while I leaned back on the recliner with a book in hand. A week back, in conversation with a friend the topic veered to books and she said if there was one book that epitomized Romance it was Chase the Moon by Catherine Nicholson. Intrigued, I searched for and found it was a book written in 1984, the author seemed to have written just a couple of books.

The title seemed simple enough and the cover illustration did not feature tall dark silhouettes. Hmm! I thought. Looked it up on amazon and on an impulse ordered it. Clicking the submit button caused a surge of happiness to shoot through my spine. I have never done anything as impulsive as this I thought. I knew the book would reach in a week. A couple of days later, I heard a shuffling sound by the front door and peeked. A bright yellow envelope lay at the door innocuous enough.

I picked it up and tore it open in a hurry.

I was reluctant to read it right away. So, it stayed tantalizingly in sight. On a desk between the kitchen and the family room. Each time I passed it, I promised myself I would savor it on a weekend night when there was no pressure to wake early the next day. By the time Thursday night came, my resolve weakened. A couple of chapters today I promised myself as I opened the book.

The clock showed 12:35. I closed the book. My eyes slight damp from the tears that must have leaked through somewhere in the two odd hours I roamed through Paris and Biarritz. Rarely do you stumble on books that capture the yearnings of an incurable romantic. The wonder of watching the sunrise with the birds for company. A kind of passion that consumes the human heart in all the fine detail. While this might not be the book for someone looking for long languorous looks and all-consuming physical passion, it is a book that will enchant you if you think sitting at the beach fingers linked staring at the horizon is how you want to live your sunset years.

I put away the book in my library feeling overwhelmed in a mellow sort of way.