"The book Spirit of Life is a collection of five short stories which will compel the readers to think about the existence of forces beyond what is seen and experienced in everyday life.

The story ‘Voices on the roof’ is based on the experience of two young girls who come to live in a new city at the start of their career. Despite all proofs to the contrary the girls are convinced about voices that can be heard on the roof at the dead of night. Are there people up there and if not then from where do the voices stem.

‘Sense of Purpose’ follows the journey of a young bee as it seeks its life’s purpose. Through its own short but eventful life the bee teaches us several useful life’s lessons.

‘Sands of Time’ takes the readers back in time to the pre-independence era in India where a rich and cruel zamindar is forced to face the consequences of his actions during the last days of his life. Is it a coincidence born out of his guilt or is there some other force in action?

‘Childhood’ is a story about a successful corporate tycoon who upon the demise of his father travels back to his hometown. However, the visit back home takes him on a journey that he hadn’t anticipated as he comes face-to-face with realities that he had buried long ago.

‘The Bungalow’ is the last story in the series which tells the horrifying tale of an old house and its new residents. The family move to the house looking forward to an exciting experience, instead what awaits them is something that none of them had anticipated."

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Spirit of Life

Sumana Roy Chowdhury

Ukiyoto Publishing

All global publishing rights are held by

Ukiyoto Publishing

Published in 2023

Content Copyright © Sumana Roy Chowdhury

ISBN 9789357708388

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

 

Voices On The Roof

(Loosely based on true events)

The taxi came to a halt in front of a nondescript four-storied building, situated about three hundred meters up a leafy lane which was set off from the crowded main road. Even though it was in the middle of a busy working day; this lane had a decidedly desolate feel to it. Aparna peered out of the window of the car to look at what-was-to-be her new home and turned around to look at Mrs. Mukherjee with a smile. Her mother nodded indulgently at the 23-year old girl while casting an appraising glance at the building in front of them, evidently not sharing her daughter’s enthusiasm about the new abode. The ladies had arrived from Kolkata to Bangalore earlier that day and had managed to fight the infamous city traffic to reach their destination that was located in a suburb of the city. They were in Bangalore for the first-time and like most 8people who were new to the city, through their journey from the airport to the house, they and had looked on in wonder at the snarling, chaotic traffic; the harrowed commuters who bravely swerved their bikes through the maze of cars and buses and the demotivated traffic policemen who stood listlessly swaying their arms in no specific direction, evidently having given up on all hopes of controlling the traffic a long time ago.

The decision for Aparna and her mother to come to Bangalore had been a recent one. The girl had completed her master’s degree in Chemistry from a reputed college in Kolkata and given her good grades, she had almost immediately landed a job at a MNC in Bangalore. This was cause for celebration but also for considerable discussion and debate. The weeks’ following the job offer had passed in a flurry of activities at the Mukherjee household as the couple prepared for their only daughter’s departure to a new city. After looking through several rental websites and a lot of heated discussions, in which Aparna had little to no say; her parents had finally zeroed in on a house that they deemed as somewhat suitable for their daughter to live in. This house was a one BHK apartment that was nicely located within walking distance of the office and came with a surprisingly low rent by Bangalore standards which fit in well with Aparna’s fresher’s salary. Since this was the first time that Aparna was leaving the comforts of her home, Mrs. Mukherjee had declared that she would accompany her daughter to Bangalore to live with her for the first few months. This practice was not unheard of in traditional Bengali families and despite her hapless daughter’s many protests, Mrs. Mukherjee had stayed firm in her decision.

“But Ma, I won’t be alone if you think about it. Piyali will be joining me in ten days’ time”, wailed Aparna trying to dissuade her mother from putting a stop, to what she had fancied to be her first flight to freedom, out of the clutches of her over-protective mother.

Piyali was Aparna’s best friend and daughter of the Mukherjee’s neighbor in Kasba, a posh South-Kolkata locality, where the girls had grown up. Aparna and Piyali had been inseparable since childhood; having attended the same school and college; and now they had landed their first job in the same firm in Bangalore as well. Naturally they had decided that they would share their accommodation in the new city and the girls had grand plans of having uninterrupted night-time chats, frequenting the famous Bangalore pubs and binge watching their favorite web-series together. But it certainly looked like destiny had other plans in store…

“That girl is as irresponsible as you are Apu”, said Mrs. Mukherjee in a matter-of-fact tone. “The two of you require some adult supervision and I have discussed this with Piyali’s mother as well. So, the topic is closed. I am going to accompany you to Bangalore and that’s that!”

So that had been that and now, a month later, Aparna and the plump Mrs. Mukherjee alighted from the air-conditioned confines of the taxi to be greeted by the pleasant Bangalore climate. Piyali was to join them ten days later. The women stood outside the apartment building and made the customary comments about how despite the horrific traffic, the climate in Bangalore was wonderful versus the oppressive Kolkata heat in the month of August.

Aparna stretched her hands and looked around to see the caretaker of the building, who was a middle-aged, dark complexioned man; wearing a blue uniform and three horizontal white stripes on his forehead, as was customary to South Indian men. He was sitting on a rickety plastic chair near the front door, lazily swatting at flies with a folded newspaper. On seeing Aparna and her mother get off the taxi, he promptly came forward to help them unload their four heavy suitcases from the vehicle and introduced himself as Mahadev, the watchman-cum-caretaker of the building.

Presently, Mahadev panted heavily as he lugged three suitcases all the way up to the fourth floor, which was where the apartment that Aparna had rented was situated. Aparna noticed that the building smelled of fresh paint and was obviously new, as the advertisement on the website had mentioned. However, it seemed to have no other residents and the sharp Mrs. Mukherjee was quick to pick up on this.

“Does no one else live here, Mahadev?”, she asked between pants as she climbed the stairs, following her daughter and the caretaker. Although Mrs. Mukherjee did not carry any suitcases with her but the task of carrying her weight up the stairs was not to be considered a trivial one.

“It’s a new apartment madam. It will take some time for people to come to live here”, replied Mahadev. He then added, “but the apartment next door also belongs to the same builder and it is now full, so you will have neighbors…”

Mrs. Mukherjee nodded as she continued the tedious climb up the stairs while she muttered under her breath about the lack of an elevator.

“Ma…come quickly and see. What a beautiful view we have from here”, called out Aparna, who was nimbler and had managed to reach the fourth floor already along with the one suitcase that she had volunteered to carry.

Her mother joined her in sometime, wiping her forehead with the end of her cotton saree despite the moderate city temperature. She gasped at the sight of her daughter leaning from the balcony taking in the surroundings. There was an empty field behind the building which was filled with tall eucalyptus trees that swayed gently in the pleasant breeze. Unfortunately, Mrs. Mukherjee’s maternal instincts made her unaware of the beauty of her surroundings and she rapidly walked over to Aparna to firmly pull her back.

“What are you doing Apu? Don’t lean on the railing like that. What if it breaks? You won’t survive a fall from here. Do you want to break your neck?”

Her daughter rolled her eyes, “Come on Ma. I am not a kid anymore. I will be starting my first job tomorrow. Treat me like an adult”, she jerked her long hair back from her small, oval face and excitedly rubbed her palms together. The older woman looked at her daughter’s pretty face and wide brown eyes. She thought for the millionth time how similar she used to be as a girl. However, before she could ponder further about her lost youth her protective instincts came back with a vengeance. She hardened her expression and opened her mouth to reprimand Aparna further, when the girl was saved from the sermon by the timely intervention from Mahadev who called out to them…

“Madam, Didi…I have unlocked the door. Please come and see the apartment…”

The apartment had a spacious living room which was furnished with a two-seater sofa along the wall at the far end of the room, a center-table and a wall-mounted television opposite to the sofa set. The French windows in the living room opened on to a small balcony that overlooked the field with the eucalyptus trees. There was an adequate kitchen which was furnished with wooden cabinets, a refrigerator and a gas stove. A short corridor led out of the living room in to the bedroom which had a double bed, a wooden cupboard, a dressing table with a thin mirror and an attached bathroom. Although Aparna looked happy with the new house, her mother, who was used to living in her spacious two-storied house in Kasba, pursed her lips in dissatisfaction.

“Can we get hot water here?”, she asked as she looked suspiciously at the tiny geyser that was mounted on the wall in the bathroom.

“Yes madam. And there is running water for 24 hours, back-up power in case of power failures, a gas cylinder in the kitchen and a dish antenna for the television”, rattled off Mahadev, seeming keen to sell the house to the new tenants. He paused and on seeing the dubious look on Mrs. Mukherjee’s face, he quickly continued, “you will also find a kirana shop if you walk down the lane and I have had a maid clean the house this morning. She will come back tomorrow morning and you can speak with her about her wages etc.”

The mention of a maid caused Mrs. Mukherjee’s expression to soften a little and she followed Mahadev out in to the living room.

“Ok…ok”, she said as she turned on the living room fan and plopped down on the sofa.

“Madam, I will be downstairs. Please call me if you need anything”, said Mahadev, walking towards the door. As he reached the door, he turned and added in a lower tone, “I leave at eight in the evening, but I will lock the grill downstairs and leave the keys with you so that in case you want to go out you can open the lock through the grill…although it might be better to stay indoors in the evenings…”

“What’s that Mahadev-da?”, asked Aparna her ears suddenly pricking up, “if you leave then there should be a night watchman, no?”

The man averted his eyes and mumbled, “No Didi…there will be no one here at night, b-but this is a safe neighborhood…”

The mother and daughter exchanged looks but before either of them could recover and speak, the caretaker had shut the front door and disappeared down the stairs.

A terrific snore from Mrs. Mukherjee caused her daughter to be jolted awake for the umpteenth time that night. She sighed irritably and reached out for the phone under her pillow to see that it was almost one o’clock at night. The girl quietly got out of bed, collected her pillow and the bed covers and tiptoed in to the living room; intending to sleep on the sofa where she hoped that her mother’s tremendous snores would not reach her. The house was in complete silence and from the position where she lay on the sofa, Aparna could see the eucalyptus trees sway in the wind through the French windows. While this had made for a pleasant view during the day; the same scenery had an eerie feel at night and she felt herself shudder. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to go back to sleep. She had barely dozed off; when she was awakened by a sound of pounding footsteps above her. She sat up straight and looked around, dazed. Surely, she must have been mistaken. Who could be walking around on the roof in the middle of the night? There was no one in the building apart from her and her mother. She chided herself for being so jittery and put it down to being in a new surrounding but just as she was about to lie back down; she heard the sounds again. There was no mistaking it this time – it was a distinct sound of footsteps on the roof directly above her. Her mind worked furiously as she sat paralyzed with fear on the sofa – Who could it be? The apartment was empty and Mahadev had locked the grill downstairs. How then had someone managed to reach the roof above? What would she do if there were burglars? What if whoever it was upstairs decided to come down and enter their house? She and her mother would be helpless. There was no one else in the building and they knew no one in the city…

As these thoughts swirled in her mind, Aparna strained her ears to see if she could hear any further sounds fervently hoping that the earlier sound of footsteps had been a figment of her imagination. The sound of footsteps had ceased, and no sooner had she let out a sigh of relief than she heard voices; two of them – a man’s and woman’s. Beads of perspiration began to line Aparna’s forehead despite the cool weather. She tucked her feet beneath her and hugged them close to her body when she felt a hand tap her on the shoulder…

“Aaarrrggghhh…”

“Ssshhhh – Apu – ssshhh. It’s me…don’t shout. They will hear you…”

Aparna opened her eyes to see her mother next to her clutching at the end of her saree and looking as terrified as she felt. She gulped a few times to get her voice back and whispered fiercely…

“What the hell do you mean by scaring me like that Ma?”

Her mother sat down on the sofa next to her and whispered back, “Sorry, sorry. But do you hear the sounds too Apu?”

Aparna nodded, and the two women stared at each other as the whispering sounds above them seemed to grow louder. Soon they could make out snatches of the conversation…

“How could you do this to me? I trusted you so much?”

“What have I done? – You are impossible, you just don’t understand…”

More footsteps…

“Are you crazy? Come back here…”

“No – I will never go back to you again…”

There were sounds of a tussle; the woman crying; an ear-splitting shriek followed by a thud and then complete silence. Aparna and her mother stared at each other wide-eyed. Had they just witnessed someone falling off the roof? A fall from the fourth floor on to the ground below would almost certainly lead to death. Aparna felt her heart beat so loudly that she feared that whoever was on the roof above might hear it too.

“Ma – s-something has happened upstairs. Should I go and look? Perhaps they need help?”, she asked faintly. Aparna was a kind-hearted girl, always ready to help those in need but she now she was torn between fear and her will to help.

Her mother ended her dilemma by grabbing her firmly by the arm making any movement close to impossible, “Apu, you are not to go anywhere now. We will see what is to be done in the morning…”

There seemed to be nothing further to do now but wait for morning. The sounds above them had ceased and Mrs. Mukherjee presently dozed off on the sofa, once again emanating fantastic snores, while her daughter fought to stay awake for a while but eventually gave in and fell in to a fitful sleep as well.

“Well?”, demanded Mrs. Mukherjee, her hands firmly planted on her hips, “If the grill was locked then how did people reach the roof upstairs? Is there any other way to reach the roof other than from the front door?”

The hapless Mahadev, stood outside their apartment door and uncomfortably shifted his weight from one foot to another. He mumbled, “No madam; there is no other way to reach the roof. As I said, you must have heard the wind…”

“The wind? It cannot be Mahadev-da”, said Aparna, peering through the tiny gap that her mother’s girth left in the doorway, “Both of us heard the voices clearly. I am certain that there were people upstairs and something happened last night…”

“Then perhaps it was from the apartment next door. Plenty of people live there”, suggested the caretaker. “The buildings are close to each other”, he trailed off.

“But even then, I should have found something when I went to look…”

An audible gasp from Mahadev caused Aparna to stop in mid-sentence.

“You went up to look at night? “

“No – I went up in the morning. I also looked all around the building and in the field behind but there was nothing…”

Mahadev sighed in relief and Mrs. Mukherjee pinned him with a suspicious look…

“Is there something that you are not telling us Mahadev?”

“N-no”, he stammered, averting his eyes, “It’s just that- that it’s better to not go out of the house at night…”

He paused as though contemplating his next words and then seeming to make up his mind; he looked straight at Aparna and said firmly. “Didi, remember my words. Whatever happens; never open the door. This is a nice apartment and locality only if you can ignore anything that you hear at night. Do not go looking for things; I can assure you that you will not find anything. As I said, you will be fine as long as you are inside the house…”

With this Mahadev departed abruptly. A sudden gust of wind through the open door blew Aparna’s hair back from her forehead and she hugged herself as she felt a chill run down her spine.

“Pihu, Apu; don’t stay up very late”, said Mrs. Mukherjee as she looked affectionately at the two girls who were comfortably settled on the bed that had been made for Piyali on the floor of the living room. It was past ten and Mrs. Mukherjee was preparing to retire for the night.

“I will sleep here with Pihu tonight Ma”, said Aparna. “It’s Sunday tomorrow so we can stay awake for longer.”

Piyali had arrived in Bangalore earlier that day and the two girls had greeted each other with such enthusiasm that one would have thought that they had been separated from each other for years instead of only ten days.

“Apu, don’t be awake for too long. You know that they will be here soon”, said Mrs. Mukherjee to her daughter in a warning tone as she disappeared in to the bedroom inside.

Piyali stared after her.

“What does Mashima mean by ‘they’ will be here?”, she asked her friend incredulously. “As far as I know, there is no one here apart from us.”

Piyali was a spunky girl, with very different personality from her friend. She always seemed to be sure of herself and feared very little and Aparna had always admired her friend’s confidence and her ability to speak her mind while she herself had been prone to self-doubt.

“It’s nothing Pihu”, replied Aparna quickly, trying to change the topic and to get her headstrong friend off the subject.

Luckily for her, as they had so many other things to talk about, Mrs. Mukherjee’s words were soon forgotten, and the two girls chatted on oblivious of time. But as one o’clock drew closer, Aparna began to grow more and more restless as she repeatedly looked at the time on her phone.

“What is it Apu?”, asked Piyali. “Why are you looking at the time?”

“It’s almost one”, whispered back her friend, her face pale.

“One? So, what happens at one?”

Just as Aparna was about to open her mouth to answer; both girls heard the footsteps on the roof above.

“What’s that?”, asked Piyali loudly.

“Ssshhh”, said Aparna, clamping a hand over her friend’s mouth. “This is what Ma was talking about Pihu. For the past ten nights; it has been the same routine. Just listen quietly…”

As they sat quietly; they first heard the sound of footsteps; then a whispered conversation between a man and a woman that grew louder with time; more footsteps; a woman crying; a scream followed by a thud and finally silence.

Piyali looked wide-eyed at her friend.

“What just happened Apu?”, she whispered. “I think I should go outside and see…”

Apu grabbed her friends’ hand and shook her head. “Don’t Pihu. You won’t find anything. This is over for tonight, but it will be the same routine tomorrow and the day after and the day…”

Just then a sharp knock sounded on their front door making Aparna almost choke on her words. The girls clutched each other’s’ hands and looked towards the door. The sound of the knock had also drawn Mrs. Mukherjee out in to the living room. The three women stood frozen, staring at each other when the knock came again. This time, it was louder.

“Please open the door”, called a man’s voice from outside. It sounded desperate and out-of-breath. “Please, please open the door. I need your help…”

There were a series of knocks of increasing intensity after this…

“This has never happened before Pihu”, whispered Mrs. Mukherjee. “No one has knocked on the door before.”

Piyali’s face wore a determined expression as she looked at the two other women in the room.

“We must open the door”, she said as she started towards the door. “The man outside needs our help.”

“Pihu no. Please Pihu don’t”, begged Aparna and her mother, both of whom had jumped up after Piyali.

“Whatever it is that is out there; it does not need our help”, said Aparna, looking her friend in the eye. “So please Pihu – don’t…”

Piyali looked at her friend for a moment, seemingly in a dilemma.

Seeing her friend hesitate; Aparna pushed further, “Mahadev-da had told me to never open the door; no matter what. So, don’t do it Pihu.”

Piyali looked from her friend to Mrs. Mukherjee and the older woman vehemently shook her head.

“Please sit down Pihu. We are all alone in this building now. No one will come here till morning…”

Just as Piyali was contemplating this, the knocking on the door resumed. “Please help me”, came the voice from outside, followed by sounds of sobbing.

Piyali made up her mind and resolutely shook her head. “Apu, there’s a man out there and he needs our help. I can see that you are too scared to help him, but I will…”

With that she flung aside Aparna’s restraining arm and strode over to the door to fling it open as Aparna and Mrs. Mukherjee stood back in the room holding on to each other. A gust of ice-cold wind entered the room as soon as the door was opened, chilling all three of them to the bone although it was in the middle of summer. There was a pitch-black darkness outside the house. The solitary light bulb that usually illuminated the corridor was in darkness. Piyali peered outside, straining her eyes to see but could detect no one.

“Hello?”, she said. “Is anyone there?”

“Pihu, please come back inside”, Aparna was crying now, trying hard to free her arm from her mother’s grasp so that she could go and rescue her friend. “There’s no one out there; believe me. Please come back inside…”

“Shut up Apu. Let me see”, said Piyali and stepped outside the house. No sooner than she had stepped out of the house; a tremendous blast of wind caused the door to bang shut behind her.

“Pihu”, screamed Aparna, freeing herself from her mother’s clutches and running towards the door. She tried to open it, but the door was locked.

“Pihu”, she cried again; desperately trying to open the door. Her mother joined her too but no matter how hard they tried, the door remained locked. Aparna was close to hysteria when her mother clutched her arm and whispered. “Apu, listen…the sounds…”

Surely enough, the sounds upstairs had started once more, although the routine seemed to have altered this time. Footsteps; voices – a man’s and a woman’s; sounds of a scuffle and then a scream, followed by a sickening thud.

Aparna screamed too and collapsed on the floor as blackness spread before her eyes.

er

Spirit of Life

Sumana Roy Chowdhury

Ukiyoto Publishing

All global publishing rights are held by

Ukiyoto Publishing

Published in 2023

Content Copyright © Sumana Roy Chowdhury

ISBN 9789357708388

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

 

Voices On The Roof

(Loosely based on true events)

The taxi came to a halt in front of a nondescript four-storied building, situated about three hundred meters up a leafy lane which was set off from the crowded main road. Even though it was in the middle of a busy working day; this lane had a decidedly desolate feel to it. Aparna peered out of the window of the car to look at what-was-to-be her new home and turned around to look at Mrs. Mukherjee with a smile. Her mother nodded indulgently at the 23-year old girl while casting an appraising glance at the building in front of them, evidently not sharing her daughter’s enthusiasm about the new abode. The ladies had arrived from Kolkata to Bangalore earlier that day and had managed to fight the infamous city traffic to reach their destination that was located in a suburb of the city. They were in Bangalore for the first-time and like most 8people who were new to the city, through their journey from the airport to the house, they and had looked on in wonder at the snarling, chaotic traffic; the harrowed commuters who bravely swerved their bikes through the maze of cars and buses and the demotivated traffic policemen who stood listlessly swaying their arms in no specific direction, evidently having given up on all hopes of controlling the traffic a long time ago.

The decision for Aparna and her mother to come to Bangalore had been a recent one. The girl had completed her master’s degree in Chemistry from a reputed college in Kolkata and given her good grades, she had almost immediately landed a job at a MNC in Bangalore. This was cause for celebration but also for considerable discussion and debate. The weeks’ following the job offer had passed in a flurry of activities at the Mukherjee household as the couple prepared for their only daughter’s departure to a new city. After looking through several rental websites and a lot of heated discussions, in which Aparna had little to no say; her parents had finally zeroed in on a house that they deemed as somewhat suitable for their daughter to live in. This house was a one BHK apartment that was nicely located within walking distance of the office and came with a surprisingly low rent by Bangalore standards which fit in well with Aparna’s fresher’s salary. Since this was the first time that Aparna was leaving the comforts of her home, Mrs. Mukherjee had declared that she would accompany her daughter to Bangalore to live with her for the first few months. This practice was not unheard of in traditional Bengali families and despite her hapless daughter’s many protests, Mrs. Mukherjee had stayed firm in her decision.

“But Ma, I won’t be alone if you think about it. Piyali will be joining me in ten days’ time”, wailed Aparna trying to dissuade her mother from putting a stop, to what she had fancied to be her first flight to freedom, out of the clutches of her over-protective mother.

Piyali was Aparna’s best friend and daughter of the Mukherjee’s neighbor in Kasba, a posh South-Kolkata locality, where the girls had grown up. Aparna and Piyali had been inseparable since childhood; having attended the same school and college; and now they had landed their first job in the same firm in Bangalore as well. Naturally they had decided that they would share their accommodation in the new city and the girls had grand plans of having uninterrupted night-time chats, frequenting the famous Bangalore pubs and binge watching their favorite web-series together. But it certainly looked like destiny had other plans in store…

“That girl is as irresponsible as you are Apu”, said Mrs. Mukherjee in a matter-of-fact tone. “The two of you require some adult supervision and I have discussed this with Piyali’s mother as well. So, the topic is closed. I am going to accompany you to Bangalore and that’s that!”

So that had been that and now, a month later, Aparna and the plump Mrs. Mukherjee alighted from the air-conditioned confines of the taxi to be greeted by the pleasant Bangalore climate. Piyali was to join them ten days later. The women stood outside the apartment building and made the customary comments about how despite the horrific traffic, the climate in Bangalore was wonderful versus the oppressive Kolkata heat in the month of August.

Aparna stretched her hands and looked around to see the caretaker of the building, who was a middle-aged, dark complexioned man; wearing a blue uniform and three horizontal white stripes on his forehead, as was customary to South Indian men. He was sitting on a rickety plastic chair near the front door, lazily swatting at flies with a folded newspaper. On seeing Aparna and her mother get off the taxi, he promptly came forward to help them unload their four heavy suitcases from the vehicle and introduced himself as Mahadev, the watchman-cum-caretaker of the building.

Presently, Mahadev panted heavily as he lugged three suitcases all the way up to the fourth floor, which was where the apartment that Aparna had rented was situated. Aparna noticed that the building smelled of fresh paint and was obviously new, as the advertisement on the website had mentioned. However, it seemed to have no other residents and the sharp Mrs. Mukherjee was quick to pick up on this.

“Does no one else live here, Mahadev?”, she asked between pants as she climbed the stairs, following her daughter and the caretaker. Although Mrs. Mukherjee did not carry any suitcases with her but the task of carrying her weight up the stairs was not to be considered a trivial one.

“It’s a new apartment madam. It will take some time for people to come to live here”, replied Mahadev. He then added, “but the apartment next door also belongs to the same builder and it is now full, so you will have neighbors…”

Mrs. Mukherjee nodded as she continued the tedious climb up the stairs while she muttered under her breath about the lack of an elevator.

“Ma…come quickly and see. What a beautiful view we have from here”, called out Aparna, who was nimbler and had managed to reach the fourth floor already along with the one suitcase that she had volunteered to carry.

Her mother joined her in sometime, wiping her forehead with the end of her cotton saree despite the moderate city temperature. She gasped at the sight of her daughter leaning from the balcony taking in the surroundings. There was an empty field behind the building which was filled with tall eucalyptus trees that swayed gently in the pleasant breeze. Unfortunately, Mrs. Mukherjee’s maternal instincts made her unaware of the beauty of her surroundings and she rapidly walked over to Aparna to firmly pull her back.

“What are you doing Apu? Don’t lean on the railing like that. What if it breaks? You won’t survive a fall from here. Do you want to break your neck?”

Her daughter rolled her eyes, “Come on Ma. I am not a kid anymore. I will be starting my first job tomorrow. Treat me like an adult”, she jerked her long hair back from her small, oval face and excitedly rubbed her palms together. The older woman looked at her daughter’s pretty face and wide brown eyes. She thought for the millionth time how similar she used to be as a girl. However, before she could ponder further about her lost youth her protective instincts came back with a vengeance. She hardened her expression and opened her mouth to reprimand Aparna further, when the girl was saved from the sermon by the timely intervention from Mahadev who called out to them…

“Madam, Didi…I have unlocked the door. Please come and see the apartment…”

The apartment had a spacious living room which was furnished with a two-seater sofa along the wall at the far end of the room, a center-table and a wall-mounted television opposite to the sofa set. The French windows in the living room opened on to a small balcony that overlooked the field with the eucalyptus trees. There was an adequate kitchen which was furnished with wooden cabinets, a refrigerator and a gas stove. A short corridor led out of the living room in to the bedroom which had a double bed, a wooden cupboard, a dressing table with a thin mirror and an attached bathroom. Although Aparna looked happy with the new house, her mother, who was used to living in her spacious two-storied house in Kasba, pursed her lips in dissatisfaction.

“Can we get hot water here?”, she asked as she looked suspiciously at the tiny geyser that was mounted on the wall in the bathroom.

“Yes madam. And there is running water for 24 hours, back-up power in case of power failures, a gas cylinder in the kitchen and a dish antenna for the television”, rattled off Mahadev, seeming keen to sell the house to the new tenants. He paused and on seeing the dubious look on Mrs. Mukherjee’s face, he quickly continued, “you will also find a kirana shop if you walk down the lane and I have had a maid clean the house this morning. She will come back tomorrow morning and you can speak with her about her wages etc.”

The mention of a maid caused Mrs. Mukherjee’s expression to soften a little and she followed Mahadev out in to the living room.

“Ok…ok”, she said as she turned on the living room fan and plopped down on the sofa.

“Madam, I will be downstairs. Please call me if you need anything”, said Mahadev, walking towards the door. As he reached the door, he turned and added in a lower tone, “I leave at eight in the evening, but I will lock the grill downstairs and leave the keys with you so that in case you want to go out you can open the lock through the grill…although it might be better to stay indoors in the evenings…”

“What’s that Mahadev-da?”, asked Aparna her ears suddenly pricking up, “if you leave then there should be a night watchman, no?”

The man averted his eyes and mumbled, “No Didi…there will be no one here at night, b-but this is a safe neighborhood…”

The mother and daughter exchanged looks but before either of them could recover and speak, the caretaker had shut the front door and disappeared down the stairs.

A terrific snore from Mrs. Mukherjee caused her daughter to be jolted awake for the umpteenth time that night. She sighed irritably and reached out for the phone under her pillow to see that it was almost one o’clock at night. The girl quietly got out of bed, collected her pillow and the bed covers and tiptoed in to the living room; intending to sleep on the sofa where she hoped that her mother’s tremendous snores would not reach her. The house was in complete silence and from the position where she lay on the sofa, Aparna could see the eucalyptus trees sway in the wind through the French windows. While this had made for a pleasant view during the day; the same scenery had an eerie feel at night and she felt herself shudder. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to go back to sleep. She had barely dozed off; when she was awakened by a sound of pounding footsteps above her. She sat up straight and looked around, dazed. Surely, she must have been mistaken. Who could be walking around on the roof in the middle of the night? There was no one in the building apart from her and her mother. She chided herself for being so jittery and put it down to being in a new surrounding but just as she was about to lie back down; she heard the sounds again. There was no mistaking it this time – it was a distinct sound of footsteps on the roof directly above her. Her mind worked furiously as she sat paralyzed with fear on the sofa – Who could it be? The apartment was empty and Mahadev had locked the grill downstairs. How then had someone managed to reach the roof above? What would she do if there were burglars? What if whoever it was upstairs decided to come down and enter their house? She and her mother would be helpless. There was no one else in the building and they knew no one in the city…

As these thoughts swirled in her mind, Aparna strained her ears to see if she could hear any further sounds fervently hoping that the earlier sound of footsteps had been a figment of her imagination. The sound of footsteps had ceased, and no sooner had she let out a sigh of relief than she heard voices; two of them – a man’s and woman’s. Beads of perspiration began to line Aparna’s forehead despite the cool weather. She tucked her feet beneath her and hugged them close to her body when she felt a hand tap her on the shoulder…

“Aaarrrggghhh…”

“Ssshhhh – Apu – ssshhh. It’s me…don’t shout. They will hear you…”

Aparna opened her eyes to see her mother next to her clutching at the end of her saree and looking as terrified as she felt. She gulped a few times to get her voice back and whispered fiercely…

“What the hell do you mean by scaring me like that Ma?”

Her mother sat down on the sofa next to her and whispered back, “Sorry, sorry. But do you hear the sounds too Apu?”

Aparna nodded, and the two women stared at each other as the whispering sounds above them seemed to grow louder. Soon they could make out snatches of the conversation…

“How could you do this to me? I trusted you so much?”

“What have I done? – You are impossible, you just don’t understand…”

More footsteps…

“Are you crazy? Come back here…”

“No – I will never go back to you again…”

There were sounds of a tussle; the woman crying; an ear-splitting shriek followed by a thud and then complete silence. Aparna and her mother stared at each other wide-eyed. Had they just witnessed someone falling off the roof? A fall from the fourth floor on to the ground below would almost certainly lead to death. Aparna felt her heart beat so loudly that she feared that whoever was on the roof above might hear it too.

“Ma – s-something has happened upstairs. Should I go and look? Perhaps they need help?”, she asked faintly. Aparna was a kind-hearted girl, always ready to help those in need but she now she was torn between fear and her will to help.

Her mother ended her dilemma by grabbing her firmly by the arm making any movement close to impossible, “Apu, you are not to go anywhere now. We will see what is to be done in the morning…”

There seemed to be nothing further to do now but wait for morning. The sounds above them had ceased and Mrs. Mukherjee presently dozed off on the sofa, once again emanating fantastic snores, while her daughter fought to stay awake for a while but eventually gave in and fell in to a fitful sleep as well.

“Well?”, demanded Mrs. Mukherjee, her hands firmly planted on her hips, “If the grill was locked then how did people reach the roof upstairs? Is there any other way to reach the roof other than from the front door?”

The hapless Mahadev, stood outside their apartment door and uncomfortably shifted his weight from one foot to another. He mumbled, “No madam; there is no other way to reach the roof. As I said, you must have heard the wind…”

“The wind? It cannot be Mahadev-da”, said Aparna, peering through the tiny gap that her mother’s girth left in the doorway, “Both of us heard the voices clearly. I am certain that there were people upstairs and something happened last night…”

“Then perhaps it was from the apartment next door. Plenty of people live there”, suggested the caretaker. “The buildings are close to each other”, he trailed off.

“But even then, I should have found something when I went to look…”

An audible gasp from Mahadev caused Aparna to stop in mid-sentence.

“You went up to look at night? “

“No – I went up in the morning. I also looked all around the building and in the field behind but there was nothing…”

Mahadev sighed in relief and Mrs. Mukherjee pinned him with a suspicious look…

“Is there something that you are not telling us Mahadev?”

“N-no”, he stammered, averting his eyes, “It’s just that- that it’s better to not go out of the house at night…”

He paused as though contemplating his next words and then seeming to make up his mind; he looked straight at Aparna and said firmly. “Didi, remember my words. Whatever happens; never open the door. This is a nice apartment and locality only if you can ignore anything that you hear at night. Do not go looking for things; I can assure you that you will not find anything. As I said, you will be fine as long as you are inside the house…”

With this Mahadev departed abruptly. A sudden gust of wind through the open door blew Aparna’s hair back from her forehead and she hugged herself as she felt a chill run down her spine.

“Pihu, Apu; don’t stay up very late”, said Mrs. Mukherjee as she looked affectionately at the two girls who were comfortably settled on the bed that had been made for Piyali on the floor of the living room. It was past ten and Mrs. Mukherjee was preparing to retire for the night.

“I will sleep here with Pihu tonight Ma”, said Aparna. “It’s Sunday tomorrow so we can stay awake for longer.”

Piyali had arrived in Bangalore earlier that day and the two girls had greeted each other with such enthusiasm that one would have thought that they had been separated from each other for years instead of only ten days.

“Apu, don’t be awake for too long. You know that they will be here soon”, said Mrs. Mukherjee to her daughter in a warning tone as she disappeared in to the bedroom inside.

Piyali stared after her.

“What does Mashima mean by ‘they’ will be here?”, she asked her friend incredulously. “As far as I know, there is no one here apart from us.”

Piyali was a spunky girl, with very different personality from her friend. She always seemed to be sure of herself and feared very little and Aparna had always admired her friend’s confidence and her ability to speak her mind while she herself had been prone to self-doubt.

“It’s nothing Pihu”, replied Aparna quickly, trying to change the topic and to get her headstrong friend off the subject.

Luckily for her, as they had so many other things to talk about, Mrs. Mukherjee’s words were soon forgotten, and the two girls chatted on oblivious of time. But as one o’clock drew closer, Aparna began to grow more and more restless as she repeatedly looked at the time on her phone.

“What is it Apu?”, asked Piyali. “Why are you looking at the time?”

“It’s almost one”, whispered back her friend, her face pale.

“One? So, what happens at one?”

Just as Aparna was about to open her mouth to answer; both girls heard the footsteps on the roof above.

“What’s that?”, asked Piyali loudly.

“Ssshhh”, said Aparna, clamping a hand over her friend’s mouth. “This is what Ma was talking about Pihu. For the past ten nights; it has been the same routine. Just listen quietly…”

As they sat quietly; they first heard the sound of footsteps; then a whispered conversation between a man and a woman that grew louder with time; more footsteps; a woman crying; a scream followed by a thud and finally silence.

Piyali looked wide-eyed at her friend.

“What just happened Apu?”, she whispered. “I think I should go outside and see…”

Apu grabbed her friends’ hand and shook her head. “Don’t Pihu. You won’t find anything. This is over for tonight, but it will be the same routine tomorrow and the day after and the day…”

Just then a sharp knock sounded on their front door making Aparna almost choke on her words. The girls clutched each other’s’ hands and looked towards the door. The sound of the knock had also drawn Mrs. Mukherjee out in to the living room. The three women stood frozen, staring at each other when the knock came again. This time, it was louder.

“Please open the door”, called a man’s voice from outside. It sounded desperate and out-of-breath. “Please, please open the door. I need your help…”

There were a series of knocks of increasing intensity after this…

“This has never happened before Pihu”, whispered Mrs. Mukherjee. “No one has knocked on the door before.”

Piyali’s face wore a determined expression as she looked at the two other women in the room.

“We must open the door”, she said as she started towards the door. “The man outside needs our help.”

“Pihu no. Please Pihu don’t”, begged Aparna and her mother, both of whom had jumped up after Piyali.

“Whatever it is that is out there; it does not need our help”, said Aparna, looking her friend in the eye. “So please Pihu – don’t…”

Piyali looked at her friend for a moment, seemingly in a dilemma.

Seeing her friend hesitate; Aparna pushed further, “Mahadev-da had told me to never open the door; no matter what. So, don’t do it Pihu.”

Piyali looked from her friend to Mrs. Mukherjee and the older woman vehemently shook her head.

“Please sit down Pihu. We are all alone in this building now. No one will come here till morning…”

Just as Piyali was contemplating this, the knocking on the door resumed. “Please help me”, came the voice from outside, followed by sounds of sobbing.

Piyali made up her mind and resolutely shook her head. “Apu, there’s a man out there and he needs our help. I can see that you are too scared to help him, but I will…”

With that she flung aside Aparna’s restraining arm and strode over to the door to fling it open as Aparna and Mrs. Mukherjee stood back in the room holding on to each other. A gust of ice-cold wind entered the room as soon as the door was opened, chilling all three of them to the bone although it was in the middle of summer. There was a pitch-black darkness outside the house. The solitary light bulb that usually illuminated the corridor was in darkness. Piyali peered outside, straining her eyes to see but could detect no one.

“Hello?”, she said. “Is anyone there?”

“Pihu, please come back inside”, Aparna was crying now, trying hard to free her arm from her mother’s grasp so that she could go and rescue her friend. “There’s no one out there; believe me. Please come back inside…”

“Shut up Apu. Let me see”, said Piyali and stepped outside the house. No sooner than she had stepped out of the house; a tremendous blast of wind caused the door to bang shut behind her.

“Pihu”, screamed Aparna, freeing herself from her mother’s clutches and running towards the door. She tried to open it, but the door was locked.

“Pihu”, she cried again; desperately trying to open the door. Her mother joined her too but no matter how hard they tried, the door remained locked. Aparna was close to hysteria when her mother clutched her arm and whispered. “Apu, listen…the sounds…”

Surely enough, the sounds upstairs had started once more, although the routine seemed to have altered this time. Footsteps; voices – a man’s and a woman’s; sounds of a scuffle and then a scream, followed by a sickening thud.

Aparna screamed too and collapsed on the floor as blackness spread before her eyes.