I was coming down the stairs of an old but elegant building and was engrossed in noticing and appreciating the artistic touches to the large wooden steps and well maintained wooden bannisters with polished handrails and geometric design balusters.

The wall sides were decorated with designed tiles of matching colour right from the steps upwards till shoulder height, finished with a different border tile running all around for flourish.

This must have been the norm in earlier buildings but are a luxury these days, I assessed.

I could also see the glow of light filtering in through the stained glasses on one side as the monsoon Sun occassionally appeared to create it's own magic bringing a welcome solace to the drenched hearts in this wet season.

I almost felt I was on a film set with special lighting effects readying for a shoot. I was just getting drowned in my own imagination that the male protagonist of a story was coming down the very same stairs and a drama would soon unfold like in a Raj Kapoor movie......the missing music was playing in my mind... and... as humming on my lips.

But not for long, as I heard swift thumping of the stairs above and the sound got louder and louder as someone must be approaching in a hurry till I suddenly saw a young maiden brandishing an umbrella and calling "sir ji , you seem to have forgotten your umbrella" panting slightly with mild drops of sweat beginning to show on her forehead...

She just stopped on the last wrung of the stairs just as I was about to negotiate the first wrung of the next descending stairs. There was a magical glow on her face due to the filtered light and I couldn't but stop noticing her dimples, her long plaited hair which came tossing in the front as she halted her run, woven with long string of aromatic flowers whose names I knew not but was intoxicated further by the filmy moment in real life.

I couldn't stop looking at her, completely enamoured by the beauty of the moment, which made her smile and asked, " what are you thinking sir ji? Isn't this your own umbrella?"

The teasing amusement in her voice, the gentleman in me couldn't address truthfully.

I just managed to murmur " Yes it's my own umbrella" as she smiled again almost giggling considering my predicament and took my hand and gave me the umbrella.

The touch of her soft hands put me in a further tizzy as I remained frozen in the moment, much to her amusement.

"Are you ok? What are you thinking?" The gentleman somehow recovered and replied with another lie, " I am ok"

Then I watched her turning around and taking the stairs to go upstairs with a swing of her plaited hair and those flowers.....

Such a mesmerizing moment it was for me that I could hardly manage to go down the stairs without losing a step, but for the umbrella....so dazed was I.

TWho was she, I wondered, who came like a gentle breeze but left behind a tempest in my heart and mind....

Who could be she, as I had not seen her during my visit to Mr Menon's house. I was instructed by my widowed aunt, with whom I was staying since untimely passing away of my parents few years ago, to hand over certain documents to Mr Menon when I forgot my umbrella and experienced this tempest out of the blue.....

Could she be Mr Menon's niece or some such relative who had come to stay over during vacation or was it simply a helpful neighbour ....my mind went into an overdrive..

The matter was so delicate I couldn't gather enough courage to ask my aunt if Mr Menon had a daughter!
Even if I asked how would I describe her to confirm she was his daughter ....I didn't even know her name!

What a foolish "gentleman" I was who couldn't even get her name politely, I felt. I couldn't even loiter around Mr Menon's house unduly as it was something which was not done those days.

I am talking about times almost five decades ago, when traditions, family etiquette, name,honour etc mattered quite a lot, specially in case of my earlier generation aunt where everything had to be done properly and I had become used to the system by then turning into a proper "Gentleman" .

However the incidence left a deep impact on my mind and more I thought about it, more I was drawn to her.... even though I knew I may never see her again.

Quite sometime elapsed and one lucky day when I was attending a social function, I suddenly heard a voice from behind,

" sir ji, are you in habit of forgetting your umbrella?"

I turned around to see and was stunned by the same damsel holding my umbrella and giving me the adorable, dimpled, smile. She was dressed in a sari now and looked gorgeous.

"How many times can I save you your umbrella? " She said innocently and as a matter of fact...

Though stunned beyond words by the second bolt of lightning and good luck, I forcibly gagged the gentleman in me and mustered enough strength to mutter ,

"Every time !" adding " if you please!"

I must have spoken very softly and must have been almost inaudible but she caught the words and the import and blushed...

"I wanted to ask your name that day but I was nervous", I wanted to say and tell her about the sleepless nights and how I kept on thinking about her and her touch, but the"gentleman" reappeared and all I could ask was " I couldn't ask your name that day" and I gave my name before she asked, giving my aunt's reference.

"I am Anupama, younger daughter of Mr Menon whom you visited " she responded.

Before the conversation could go further, her friends came and borrowed her away.

Throughout the function my eyes followed her and occasionally our eyes met again.Her eyes didn't seem to follow me as intently, I felt.

But this much information was enough for me to approach my aunt, I felt.

My aunt looked at me disapprovingly and amusedly at the same time....

"This is not enough information to proceed in the matter. We don't know about her education, her interests, what music she has studied and musical instruments she can play, can she sing, whether she has learnt traditional dance and if yes which one, and does she read and if so which books, and can she sew, and stitch and embroider and if so where are the samples to see her work and last but not the least can she cook, apart from idli, dosa,upma, uthappa, sambhar, rasam and bisibellebhat, also, ven pongal, bhats like tomato,vangi, Biryani, thengai sadam, puliyo gare, payasam etc., to name a few?

Aunt floored me with her list but I remained silent and just as well as after some time she said

"Ok let me see what I can do"

Shortly, one suitable day, after checking the almanacs, my aunt proceeded with my horoscope to their house.

On returning she told me "we have to wait till they match the horroscopes.But they seem to accept your candidature."

I was elated, not that there were any hurdles to cross in my candidature.
I was an engineer, with my own business and had enough ancestral property for a comfortable and well settled life. I was enjoying good health and was fairly good looking.

My elation was short lived as my aunt informed me after few days that they had checked the horoscopes and they found that matching was much better with the elder daughter Anuradha rather than the younger Anupama and they were keen on getting the elder one married first. My candidature was acceptable to them if I was inclined.

How could I tell, this was not acceptable to me and that I would wait till the elder one is married but I liked the younger Anupama...

How could I tell my aunt why she didn't consult another astrologer?
Why did she submit so meekly?
She could have put up my case more strongly.

But I could do nothing.The gentleman did nothing, accepting the turn of events as an inevitable destiny.

However, I never could forget the umbrella incident and over the years went on collecting different types of umbrellas from different countries, perhaps as a constant reminder of the magic that once was and the embers that still lit in my heart every time I thaught of the incident and I thaught of the incident very often....

In fact I had made a separate showcase to house my umbrella collection. My friends and relatives added to it with their gifts of unique umbrellas.I had placed the now old umbrella of my first romantic encounter in the centre.

Gradually I got married to a girl who was approved by my aunt and met her benchmarks. In fact my aunt went on praising her cuisine and I couldn't agree more as my wife was indeed accomplished in more ways than my aunt's list.

In course of time I had two lovely children, a boy and a girl.

On weekends, It was our routine to go to a little garden atop a hill, with a singular bench placed overlooking the opposite hill and a rivulet flowing below, and wait till the sunset behind the hills.

Children would be playing in the garden till there was light. I would carry umbrella for us two and children would carry theirs.

When the light grew dimmer after the sunset and after they were tired of playing, the children would come and say,

"Mummy, Daddy can we go home now?"

My wife would look at me and ask with a smile

" Have you finished gazing at me for the evening ? What do you see in me after all these years that you don't enjoy even the setting sun?"

"The glow on your face Anupama, the glow on your face!" I would reply everytime, contended and reach for my umbrella......a gentleman's umbrella which somehow kept tryst with our destiny!