Settling Down

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The flight landed at JFK at 11.00 a.m. Manjari and Neel joined the horde of passengers rushing to the baggage area to claim their bags after doing their immigration. They were met by volunteers sent by Yale to pick them up who shepherded them to a bus that was to take them to Yale. There, they met their fellow scholars who like them had come from all parts of the world. The first few minutes were spent in introductions as they waited for their luggage to be loaded into the bus. Manjari was happy to meet her fellow FLTA- Arjumand who was from Lahore, Pakistan and Rashid from Dhaka, Bangladesh. She then excused herself for a moment. She was dying to hear Amaira' voice and to know how she was doing. She took out her phone and rang up on her mother's device. Her mother must have been expecting her call because her phone was picked up in one ring.

"Hello Ma, how are you?" asked Manjari.

"We are fine. How are you? How was the flight? Any problems?

"No. Everything went fine. Where's Amaira? "

"Sleeping. She had a long day."

"Did she miss me? Was she fine without me? Did she eat well? Finished her homework?"

"She was fine. Of course, she missed you. We are taking good care of her. Stop worrying. "
"Thanks ma", said Manjari. She felt the burn of tears in her eyes. She was missing Amaira a lot. Her mother could feel the tears in Manjari's eyes. Of all her children, her eldest child had the worst luck. She was the most sheltered of all her children, and she was the one who had to weather a lot of storms. She had come out stronger, she knew. She never complained, never made demands. As if she was scared to do so. And after the marriage of her son, the equation had changed. Their daughter-in-law could barely stand Manjari. And they were helpless to do anything. She had threatened them with legal action a lot of times when they had tried to intervene on behalf of Manjari. One legal battle and divorce in the family was enough. So, they kept quiet though the guilt kept eating them up. Manjari's silence spoke more loudly than any words she could have used to express her pain. How she wished for Manjari to find the right man and settle down. She chose her words carefully and said, "Manjari, beta, you are in a new city. Men are different there. If you find someone..." "Ma, stop, "said Manjari, a bit harshly. She knew that her mother was worried about her. But she was done with marriages. And men. After her divorce, there had been a lot of proposals for her, but she had refused to get married at any cost. Her first marriage had left scars that ran so deep that they never healed. Just for a moment, Manjari allowed herself to feel what it was like to be married, to be treated like dirt, to be hit, to be tortured. She would never put herself through that misery again. She had erected walls around ger, closed herself off, put a lock on her heart, with padlocks and barricades and dug a moat and thrown the key in a maze. "Give Amaira my love. I will call her before she goes off to school", saying this Manjari kept the phone down. She wiped her tears and took a sip of water, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge the lump in her throat.
From, the corner of her eyes, she saw Neel watching her as he interacted with other fellows to had come for their research. Manjari knew that Neel was well-read. He also had a good memory, so much so that she suspected it of being photographic. He was well-versed in poetry too...the ghazal and shers he could recite at the drop of a hat! She had always envied him for it. Her rain of thought was cut off by the volunteer- Simone- asking them to board the bus. It was a three-hour bus journey to their destination. Manjari boarded the bus, hoping for a window seat. She was tired but she still wanted to see what she could of New York City. She found one in the middle and sat down. She placed her handbag on the seat next to her as she wanted to be all by herself and unwind. Maybe catch some sleep too. She noticed that everyone was sitting with scholars from their home country. She smiled to herself. She was sure that everyone was feeling bereft and were drawing solace from fellow citizens. But she had no one! She looked out of the window and all she could think of was that JFK was ugly. Seriously, Indira Gandhi Airport was swankier than this one. And the number of people and the rush. It reminded her of trying to board the metro at Chandni Chowk. She giggled to herself. She looked around and saw Neel boarding the bus. She immediately looked down and busied herself in her book to avoid any conversation.
"Is this seat taken?", asked an amused voice.
She gritted her teeth in annoyance and said, "yes. Go sit somewhere else."
"All other seats are full, "said Neel fully enjoying her discomfort. There was no escaping him now. Manjari looked around to find that he was saying the truth. Reluctantly, she removed her bag and made space for him to sit. Seriously, the man was a giant. Neel made himself comfortable and smiled to himself. His trick had worked this time. He had deliberately been the last person to board the seat in the hope of sitting next to her. He turned around to see her looking out of the window. He was not surprised. He knew she would rather be anywhere than make conversation with him. Manjari was fuming. Why, why, why could she never catch a break."How is Amaira? Did you speak to her?", asked Neel. He felt her stiffen, and slowly turn around with a wary look in her eyes, "she is fine. Thanks for asking". He simply nodded his head and asked again, "When is she joining you?"
"Next month"
"That's great", and took out his book and pretended to read. He felt Manjari visibly relax when she thought he was busy. Good. He wanted her to relax. The bus began to move and soon they were on the highway speeding down to Yale. Neel stretched his legs and grimaced. Seriously, no one made seats for tall people. There was never enough leg space! He turned around to see Manjari dozing off. Her face had relaxed, and all the worry lines had vanished from her face. His eyes went to her hair that was in a bun again. That would change when they began to date.
He looked at her for a long while. His first fill of her in days. It was almost 4 p.m. when they reached Yale. Neel did not want to wake up Manjari but there was no choice."Wake up sleepyhead", he said. Manjari stirred and then sat up straight. They had reached. Finally. She turned to Neel and said, "thanks". He shrugged his shoulder and waited for her to collect her belongings. They got off the bus to enter the Convocation Center. The smell of coffee woke Manjari completely. They were directed to help themselves with food and refreshments. Manjari went to the restroom to freshen up and after coming back filled her cup to the brim with coffee and grabbed a cheese and tomato sandwich. She also grabbed a banana and a muffin. She found herself a seat and sat down to enjoy her first decent meal in almost a day. She sipped her coffee and looked around. She saw Arjumand approaching her who grabbed a chair next to her. Manjari smiled at her and both finished their meal in silence. A girl of few words, Manjari thought to herself. I like her already. She observed Arjumand again. She was almost 5'3", very thin with long jet-black hair that fell to her waist. She was wearing a loose kurti over jean and carried an embroidered bag. They were just finishing their meals when they were informed to come and collect keys to their homes. Homes! Yes. All of them had been given housemates. Two fellows in one house. They were responsible for keeping it clean. They did not have to pay any rent and every month money would be transferred into their accounts for their daily expenses. Manjari was overjoyed. She did not have to look for a house. Now she just had to figure out who her roommate was and schools nearby for Amaira. She waited for her name to be called. She noticed that no one was being put with the people of their nation. She heard Neel's name being called. He was rooming with Imran, a person from South Africa. She waited for her name to be called. Manjari Chaturvedi, India, House no 207, Foster Street. Partner- no one. Manjari was bewildered. No partner. Why? Not that she minded but why. The person distributing keys explained that one fellow, a girl from Vietnam had backed out at the last moment.

Manjari could not believe her luck. An entire house to herself. Perfect!!!!!!!!!!!

They boarded the bus again and were dropped off at their houses. Manjari was excited to see her house. Her home for the next nine months and she was not disappointed to see it. She had a decent front lawn with lawn chairs. She got off the bus and waited for her luggage. The volunteer carried it for her. He opened the house doors for her and pointed out a few things like the heating. He gave her a card and explained that the card and $500 to help her sustain herself till she could open her account and the stipend could be transferred. She thanked him and closed the door after he left. the living room had a couch and a beautiful vintage lamp. It led to two bedrooms- both of equal size and both had queen beds. The first bedroom looked out to the street and the other to the backyard. The kitchen was of a decent size. She opened the refrigerator to find milk and bread. She checked the restroom. Clean. Manjari was incredibly happy with her space and she desperately wanted to sleep. But first, she had to unpack. She dragged her two large suitcases to 'her' bedroom and began unpacking. She put away all her clothes in the closet, her toiletries went into the bathroom. The Indian snacks that she had bought were stored in the kitchen. She made a list of things she would need as she went around putting away her things. After unpacking, she made her bed and grabbed her towel. The hot shower washed away a day's worth of dust and grime and she felt human again. She wore her nightclothes and go into her bed and within 5 minutes she was fast asleep.

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