No Time for Goodbyes Read Online Free PDF Page B

have to lead ahead of them.
    â€˜I asked you a question,’ Manoj says and I nod.
    â€˜2012,’ I tell him and he gasps.
    â€˜Thirty years! Oh my god!’ he almost looks as though he doesn’t believe me. I smile at him happily as we pass a park that is so lush and heavy with the fragrance of flowers that it takes my breath away.
    â€˜So you know our future then?’ he says and my smile freezes. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to tell him what is going to happen in the world. And I sure hope he won’t ask me about what he’s doing back in 2012 because there’s absolutely no sign of him there.
    I shrug and look down. We’ve walked past old style colonial bungalows, the kind that have given way to monstrous and ugly apartments—now. The traffic on the road is minimal. There are a few strange and huge cars serenely making their way and many bicycles. I spot a few funny looking scooters in interesting colours as well.
    â€˜What’s that?’ I ask Manoj hoping that he won’t continue his line of questioning. He looks in the direction of a vibrant yellow scooter that is parked on the footpath and he looks at me in surprise.
    â€˜That’s a Lambretta,’ he says. ‘They’re on their way out but don’t tell me there aren’t any scooters in the future!’
    â€˜Oh there are! There are!’ I say quickly, hoping to veer him away from this line of questioning.
    â€˜So, you never did tell me who you are and how you found that photo,’ he says, crossing his arms as he walks beside me. I think we’re almost near his house and so he’s slowed down a little.
    I look at him uncomfortably. ‘I’m Suma’s daughter,’ I tell him and he looks at me disbelievingly. Then he grins so widely and gives a whoop of laughter that shocks me completely.
    â€˜What’s so funny?’ I ask him, trying not to notice those dimples or how endearing he looks when he’s laughing.
    He slaps his thigh and shakes his head at the same time. ‘Suma’s daughter! I cannot believe it. And she has no idea!’
    I shake my head. ‘Obviously. I don’t want to freak her out!’ I tell him.
    â€˜Suma keeps telling me very importantly that she never wants to get married. Good to know that she changes her mind in the future,’ he says and I look away uncomfortably. Clearly he has no idea about the humongous crushes all three girls have on him. Guys can be so totally dense.
    â€˜Here we are!’ he says and we stop before a house that is smaller than my Ajji’s house.
    â€˜What did you tell your grandfather?’ I ask Manoj out of curiosity.
    â€˜I told him that we have proof his time travelling camera finally works,’ he says and smiles at me apologetically. I nod as he unlocks the door to his house.
    â€˜You stay with your grandfather? No one else?’ I ask him. His face falls a little and he nods, his head bent.
    â€˜My parents died a few years back. My grandfather and I have been living together since then. We moved to Bangalore recently. We’d been living in Mysore all these years,’ he says.
    â€˜How old are you?’ I ask him, even though I feel sad about him not having parents. I just get tongue tied when faced with occasions where I have to offer condolences. I don’t know if the people receiving them really appreciate it or not.
    He looks surprised and relieved at the change of topic. ‘I’m 18,’ he says with a smirk and then we walk into his house.
    The house is a little bare of furniture but there are lots of books everywhere and plenty of newspapers. In fact, there’s a tall pile of newspapers near one of the doors. The hall has a couple of chairs and a radio. Once again, I notice there is no TV. Apparently, it hasn’t made its appearance in middle class Indian homes yet.
    From the hall, I can see a narrow corridor leading towards two rooms.