Blast from the Past

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Hello everyone. I have update the first chapter again. I have a better idea of how I want the story to progress. Please do leave your feedback.


September 2019

"No", Manjari did not even bother to raise her head as she kept rummaging in her bag for the concept note that Prof. Dawson had given her.

"At least look," Hina persisted.

"Not interested", said Manjari in a bored voice. Seriously Hina should have learned by now that she did not want to date. But she refused to give up! Where was that paper, she thought as she started emptying the contents of her bag on Hina's table. It had the details of the visiting fellow from Columbia University. She had not had time to look at it as she was already late for class then.

"He is unbelievably cute...", said Hina in a hopeful voice. Manjari was her best friend and Hina wanted her to be happy.

"I do not care", Manjari said. They had this conversation at least once a week. This conversation was so repetitive. Manjari could do this in her sleep. Every week Hina would find a 'new' guy for Manjari to check out! It did not matter to Hina that Manjari had categorically told her that she did not want to date. Where was that paper? Manjari thought as she retraced her steps and groaned silently. She had forgotten it in her car when she had gone to get her lecture notes for her morning classes. She checked her bag. There was no way she could go and get it now. Perfect! She thought sarcastically. She was going to meet someone without even knowing his name.

"Oh! come on...check him out", Hina tried convincing Manjari one last time. Manjari we so pretty and well respected in academia. Beauty with brains, Hina mused. Some lucky guy would get to date her and spend the rest of his life with her.

"No. nope. Nada. No way and now leave me alone. I am done. That ship has sailed. I like things the way they are..." said Manjari stressing each word.

Hina sighed and put her phone away. She knew that tone. There was no point pushing her more. Hina looked at Manjari who was still searching her bag for something. She wondered what had happened in Manjari's past to make her so bitter about and wary of the relationship. All she knew was that she was divorced and had an amazing daughter -Amaira,but that is all she knew. She had met Amaira and had immediately fallen in love with her.
They had been working together for the past year and Hina liked to believe that they were close. But there were some lines that were never to be crossed and Manjari's past one such line. She had tried to find out once and Manjari had cut her off for a while. She had a sneaking suspicion that somebody had broken Manjari's heart badly. So lost was she in her thoughts that she completely missed out on what Manjari was saying.

Manjari had to shake her by her arm to get her attention.

"Where are you lost?"

"Nowhere. What were you saying?"

"This fellow who is coming for his post-doc...who is he? What is his name?"

Hina shrugged her shoulders and said, "I do not know. I heard about him from you...he is from the history department. Tall and very dapper."

And just like that, the doors of the past opened with a bang. A thousand memories assailed Manjari and she tried her hardest to suppress them. She braced her arm on the table and took long shuddering breaths. How long would this continue for, she wondered? Would she be ever truly over him?

"Are you alright?" Hina asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Yes. I am getting late for my class". Manjari gathered her things and left for her South Asian Literatures lectures. She was a professor at the University of Toronto. She had come to Canada exactly a year ago and was lucky enough to get a job. She loved her profession. It kept her busy. It kept her from thinking about someone. She was away from everyone and everything familiar. Most importantly, him.

As she walked across the campus to her class, she heard someone listening to Faiz. The doors of her memory unlocked themselves again as she felt a familiar pang in her chest. She remembered him reciting Faiz to her on a bench in Yale. She shook her head and broke herself out of the reverie.

Something was wrong today. She could feel it. Since morning, she had been reminded of him repeatedly. The café had mixed her coffee order and given her his favorite coffee. She had ended up wearing his favorite color to work today and Amaira had mentioned him again. Now this fellow was from the history department and these ghazals.... she shook her head. She was being paranoid. Their paths could never cross again. She had ensured it and plus he had no reasons to look for her.

After finishing her class, she made her way to the history department. On normal days, she avoided the department like plague. Too many well wishers trying to get her to settle down! But Prof. Dawson, a senior colleague had requested her to help this fellow in the history department and she had been unable to say no.

As she climbed u the stairs, a familiar smell surrounded her. She rested her head against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. He was everywhere. She did not want to think about him, but fate was having fun at her expense today.

Gathering all her strength, she walked up the stair and knocked on room 302. She adjusted her bag on her shoulders and patted her hair. She was wearing a blue shirt with pants today and had a colorful scarf around her neck.

She was checking her phone for messages when she heard the door open and a familiar voice say, "Hi babe! I have been waiting for you". Manjari froze. This was a bad dream, someone's idea of a very cruel joke. She slowly raised her eyes and her gaze met the familiar hazel eyes.

Neel. He was here.

Manjari suddenly felt lightheaded and her knees gave under her. She would have hit her head on the door when familiar arms broke her fall. She heard him say, "I have got you. And you are not going anywhere this time........." before blessed darkness claimed her.

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Manjari woke up with a start, slightly disoriented. She looked around to find that she was not alone. Neel was sitting on a chair opposite her, face unreadable. A very familiar jacket covered in a very familiar smell covered her body. Her bag was placed neatly on the desk. He stood up and handed her a glass of water. Manajri's hands were shaking so much that she had to hold the glas with both her hands. She drained the glass of water and stood up. Grabbing her bag, she walked past him, making an attempt to leave. She had almost made her escape when a familiar set of arms reached around her to push it shut and then pulled her into his arms.

Manjari stiffeend instictively and struggeld to get out of his hold. He simply held her tighter and Manjari was envelopd in his scent again as she stayed stiff and unyielding in his arms.

"Let me go", she said.
" I missed you".
"I said, let me go", she said, gritting her teeth.
"When did you down to Canada?", he asked trying to nuzzle her neck.
" Let. Me. Go", she said again
"Did you miss me? I missed you."
"Just let me go".
"Not till you answer my questions".
"What questions?", she asked, exasperation clear in her voice, as she raised her head to look at him.
"Why did you leave?", he asked looking dead into her eyes.
Why did she leave...why do she leave? WHY DID SHE LEAVE? the nerve of the man...she broke free of his arms and yanked the door open. As she walked to her car, her past flashed before her.....

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