The Chase Begins

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Neel stood outside the house of Manjari. The uber driver had left a long time back but he could not gather the courage to knock at her door. She lived in mid-town Toronto near Eglinton Avenue in a double-storied house. The house had a beautiful front law which had tulips in full bloom. He could make out the backyard too and he was ready to bet that was immaculately kept too. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, wondering what to do next. The bravado with which he had set out for her house was long lost. He knew her. The moment she knew it was him, she would slam the door shut in his face.

He raked his hair with his fingers. He had not anticipated so much hatred from her. He wanted answers but he wanted her to. She had ruined him for any other relationship. He felt incomplete without her. And she wanted nothing to do with him. He looked at the house again. The windows of her living room were open. Though curtains were drawn, they were moving in the wind and he could make out the inside of her house. For a moment, he imagined he saw her too. But when he looked again, there was no movement. He took one last look at her house and left.

Manjari heaved a sigh of relief when she saw him leave. Luck was on her side today. She had been sitting on her front porch enjoying her lemonade when she had decided to call Carla to confirm if her leave application had been processed or not. Carla had mentioned his coming and taking her address in passing but it had put Manjari on her guard. She knew how Neel worked. She had scampered back into the house and drawn all her curtains. She was in no mood for a confrontation today. And then she got angry. Her home was her oasis, and he was here to disturb it. And she wouldn't let him do that. She had worked very very hard to achieve some semblance of control over her life and she wouldn't let him ruin everything. she took a long fortifying breath, getting herself ready for the battle. She saw the Uber stop and Neel get out. She waited for him to knock, readying herself to throw him out of her house. But she was surprised when he kept standing at the edge of her front lawn, making no move to knock at her front door. She hid behind her bookshelf, observing him. She felt a pang of guilt when she saw the bandage on his forehead. She had not meant to push him so hard, but she was desperate to put some distance between them. She was not a violent person and she was genuinely sorry for his injury. Despite everything he had done, she should have controlled her temper better yesterday. She stood silently and observed his movements and was surprised when he left a few minutes later.

Neel spent the entire night thinking about the situation at hand. He was sure that if he could spend some time with Manjari, he could find out what was it that had pushed her away from him. The problem was getting Manjari to be in the same room as him without trying to run away. He knew that her application for a sabbatical was bound to be approved which meant that she would not be back for a full academic year. He flopped down on his bed and looked at the ceiling as if it held the answers to all his problems.

It had not been easy to find her. He had missed meeting her by a narrow margin last year in April. Her previous colleagues had informed him that she was in Delhi. So, he had searched every college of the University in her search. But to no avail. He had almost given up hope when fate intervened on his behalf. He was at Sahitya Akademi going through their journals when he came across a small interview with her by the South Asian Community of Toronto, honouring her achievements. He checked the date. The interview had been taken in September. He remembered the way he rushed to the nearest computer and typed the University of Toronto in the search engine. He searched across departments and finally found her name in the department for South Asian Studies. There was no photograph, no contact details just an email id. She was a professor there and taught a course on gender. She was currently working on a book with Prof. Dawson, who was the head of the department there. He remembers the relief he had felt. He had almost taken the next flight to Toronto, but then common sense kicked in. He knew nothing about her or her reasons for leaving like the way she had. If she had taken so many pains to be not found by anyone, he was sure that she would not welcome him with open arms if he arrived on her doorstep.

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