the old woman in the bookshop

Directions? From me?

Well then if you insist.

Go straight on and when you enter the forest, maybe after the second clearing or so,

there comes a fork in the road.

A narrow, beaten path to the left, and a sprawling brambly path to the right.

The left leads nowhere special - a return to life as it always was.

So take the right.

Once you do,

keep walking and do not look back... young Orpheus.

I kid, of course, look if you want to,

your Eurydice will only be the bees you awaken from their hive.

Go a little further still, and you will see a wooden bridge over a ravine.

Vines and prayers usually keep it afloat,

but if both fail you, knowing how to fly will help too.

If... uh, when..., that bridge is burnt, crossed

keep walking through the forest till the

canopies above make you think of daylight as a distant memory.

When finally the darkness is absolute,

you should see a faint light – or a bright one perhaps,

depends on her mood.

Whose mood you ask?

Stop interrupting and maybe you will find out.

Where was I?

Ah yes, the light.

Follow it forward, and a house in the distance should spring into view.

The road here forks into two again.

The one on the left, one final chance to a life unchanged.

The one on the right, for if you want to learn to live again.

That’s what he left me with, the old man in the low hat,

a set of directions only a fool would follow.

Yet here I find myself, in front of the second fork

feet rushing to the right, wanting to live again.

There were no bells above the door,

no noise as my feet touched the wooden floor.

No reply to my small “hello”

just a room, with books, and someone’s memories from a lifetime ago.

She came out, then, suddenly.

As if the air shimmered and spun her into existence -

The old woman in the bookshop.

Has that fool sent another one my way?

It is not too late to turn back around,

the path behind you should take you home.

But. If you are determined to stay,

well, take a book and start reading,

until you have learned enough,

to stand at the first fork in the forest

and guide someone else my way.

PRASHAMSA MANCHIRAJU