Madhu slammed the door back on Ashok's face involuntarily. She realized what she had just done and bit her lips hard in confusion.
How did he find me?
Why is he here?
Why did I just shove the door shut?
She checked her breath, ruffled her hair and then opened the door again with wide eyes.
"What was that about?" he narrowed his gaze.
"I'm sorry, you just surprised me."
"Ah, I apologize," his nostrils flared a little, something Madhu had noticed earlier as well.
"May I come in?"
And find my roommate dozing half naked with alcohol bottles rolling around the floor. No, thank you.
"My roommate is there."
"Oh, you live with someone?" There was disappointment in his voice.
"A girl," she instantly responded. She didn't want him to think that it was a boy she lived with. But what does it matter to me whether he thinks it's a girl or not?
"Oh, I am just here because this..." he showed her the keys. "I got your car fixed."
Madhu grabbed the key from him. "Thank you."
"Well then..."
"How did you find me?"
"Asked around. Baba already knew where you lived so I had to just ask the guard of this society if there's a beautiful girl living here."
Her cheeks grew warm. "You must have not gotten any help, I suppose."
"Oh, I did." He said.
"You are an outrageously flirtatious man, Mr. Dogra." Madhu playfully mused.
Ashok looked different, less intimidating than last time. Perhaps it was the decorum of the bungalow and the old caretaker. Here, even a glimpse of him, his sight made Madhu realize this was so normal. Yet there was something palpably raw about him.
"You must have realized I didn't come all the way just to, you know, give the keys. I could've sent Baba. But I wanted to ask you if you would come with me and have a good breakfast or coffee."
"Uh," Madhu pretended really hard not to grin. "Let me change."
*
Madhu sat opposite Ashok, who sipped his coffee at a coffee shop close to her house.
"It's been so long since I've been out," he added, his eyes darting around the room.
Madhu leaned back. She had worn jeans and a green top with a wide neckline. She even added some liner, lipstick and kajal to go along with her look.
"You can't live there forever."
"But I don't like it here. I like it there, inside of my house. What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Do you like where you live?"
Madhu thoughtfully shook her head. She wouldn't like it anymore as now Vijaya was leaving the place.
"Not particularly."
"Then why do you live there?"
I'm nowhere else to go.
Madhu scratched her nose, before she changed the topic. "How's Baba?"
"He's good."
"That's great. Made any painting?"
"Can't," he placed the cup on the table in between them.
"Why?"
"I have been thinking about you." His eyes met hers and she felt a current zapping through her body. "I couldn't help but think how nature plays with emotions. That rain brought you there at my house and I'm glad it did."
"I almost died, just so you know." Madhu smiled.
He tapped his fingers, his nose flaring as Madhu noticed him intently. He was a very quiet man, with the body language of an exhausted person.
"I left my job," she said, somehow confused with why she admitted this.
"Why?" He was suddenly interested.
"You kind of made me rethink as well. I mean, it's not what you said but what you did with your life that made me realize I should be like you as well. I don't think I'm meant for this materialistic life."
There was a brief smile of satisfaction across his face that he tried his best to hide.
"Do you believe in rebirths?"
"Eh?" she lowered her head.
"People who die and come back as a different person. I'm not here to freak you out but discuss this phenomenon."
"I don't know. Why do you ask?"
"I guess when we die, our soul and our face it just goes on to someone else sometimes. When you are unable to finish your duty in this world, you get that opportunity. I feel like that."
She was confounded with how he spoke about this as if it really mattered to him. On her part, she was confused. She didn't know what to say to this. She hadn't been the most superstitious person or even a religious one. But there were times she would feel there's magic around her and that karma does really hit someone hard. She had seen it happen.
"My aunt used to tell me there are identical people in the world. Do you mean something like that?"
"No, no," he went through his carefully gelled hair, roughing it up as if he didn't care about them. "Anyhow I should leave." He came on to his feet.
"Why?" Madhu's fingers felt numb, her chest beating fast.
"I have some work." Madhu could see he was lying to her face.
"I need to handle some paperwork in my factory."
"You own a factory?"
"Sort of, yeah. But you must come to my house as you have your car now." And he left. There was no charming smile, no quaint old-time bow. He almost felt like the men around her.
Madhu was feeling suffocated at the moment, but she knew what she had to do. She searched on Facebook, typing Ashok Dogra, but finding nothing. It wasn't surprising. He didn't look like a person who would have a social networking page. Then she Googled him for she remembered that he owned a factory. She did find some random articles until she came across a news report that was dated eight years ago and was a part of the archival collections. There was no photograph accompanying the article.
A BIG UNION STRIKE HAS FORMED AT THE DOGRA MILLS WHERE WORKERS ARE AGITATING.
She read the article carefully, scanning each word. She found that a certain Mehmood, the union leader, had been belittled by Ashok.
"I will close what he started for it wasn't just what he did to me and my people but to my nephew too, who was employed by him. He destroyed him."
Her eyes had gone wide. Destroyed him? What had you done, Ashok Dogra?
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