Last week at the petrol bunk while I leaned against my car, my eyes fixed on the meter as the guy held the nozzle of the tube to my fuel tank, a car stopped in the parallel lane. The lady on the wheel was a well-known corporate trainer who I follow on the social media. Not wanting to let go of the opportunity to meet the woman in person, I walked over to the other side leaving the fuel tank to the honesty of the petrol guy. I peeped into her window and praised her about her thoughtful posts. It was flattering to learn that she knew about my book.
‘Ok, nice meeting you, Let me know when you are in Mysore next, would love to meet you,’ I said when the guy gestured me to move my car.
‘But you haven’t bought my book.’ Saying this, she took out a book from a bag kept on the passenger seat.
‘Oh I didn’t know you have written a book,’ I said, embarrassed at my ignorance.
She threw a smile at me. ‘Now you know.’ Then she gave me a quick gist of the book as she held the book for me, very clear in her expressions that the book is only for sale and not a gift.
‘I am sorry I don’t have money now. May be next time when we meet, I can bring my book and we can exchange our books,’ I said uncertainly, not sure if it was appropriate to indulge in book shopping at a public place amidst honking. (Book exchange is a common practice amongst authors)
She said after a short pause. ‘But I don’t read fiction.’
For once, the incessant honking was pleasing to the ears.