The doubtful loan (1190 words)

                                                      A  story for Halloween month

Govindram, who hails from Rajasthan, was Periasami’s neighbour for five years in Tiruppur. When Govindram moved to the southern town, Periasami’s family was helpful initially. He did not know the customs and language of the new place.

 Though wealthy, he never lent money as he was not in a money-lending business. But his usual caution gave way when his wife pleaded with him on behalf of Periasami’s family. She fell for the sob story of pressing need from Mrs Periasami and her assurance that the loan of Rs 25,000 would be returned in a few months. Even after a year, there was no sign of money being returned. Gentle reminders proved to little avail. There was no documentary evidence for the loan given. Being soft by nature Govindram relied only on polite demands for repayment even by instalments. While Periasami did not deny the liability, he always requested more time.

After learning, the nuances of manufacturing and marketing of hosiery goods, Govindram shifted to Jaipur to start his own business. Periasami assured him that his money was safe with him and that he would return in four instalments without fail with the repayment commencing after three months. It was more than three years since Govindram left. He did not get a penny. Though Govindram had lost hope of getting back the money and was reconciled to write it off, he kept reminding Periasami at regular intervals.

Mani, a 12-year-old boy, had come on summer vacation for two months to stay with his uncle Periasami and aunt at Tiruppur. The boy knew from the casual conversations between his uncle and aunt about the loan they owed to a North Indian Marwari and his frequent reminders and their inability to return.

 During this period, Govindram had to visit Tiruppur in connection with a big order he had secured. He decided to meet Periasami to recover the money or at least take something in writing as proof of the loan taken.

When he knocked at the door one evening at 7 PM, Mani opened the door.

“Where are Periasamis? Are they in the house? I have not seen you earlier,” asked Govindram in broken Tamil. Mani could immediately identify him as the person his uncle owed money to.

“I am Mani, nephew of Periasami uncle. My aunt has gone out and should return in an hour or so. What is your name, Sir, for me to inform my aunt?” replied the youngster.

“Where is your uncle? Call him,” instructed Govindram.

“He is no more. Are you not aware that he died of a sudden heart attack about two years back? As my aunt was afraid to stay alone, my parents sent me here,” replied Mani

“Oh, oh, my God, I never knew. There was no intimation too from your aunt. I will wait for her. I hope she will come soon, “said Govindram in a softened tone.

“Please come in and sit. It is not advisable to stay outside here after it gets dark. Can you tell me, if it is alright, what for you wished to meet my uncle or aunt?” asked the young boy.

“They owe me some money for more than five years. I came to ask them to return the amount. By the way, why did you say it is not safe to stay outside? Any menace from stray dogs” asked Govindram with anxiety on his face.

“The threat is not from dogs but something … worse.,” Mani whispered, his voice taking on a spooky tone. Ever since my uncle died, a ghost has been frequenting this house after dusk and barges in loudly even if the door or windows are closed. You can see then things getting scattered as if being thrown about in anger like it’s searching for something,” Mani paused dramatically before continuing,” Aunt thinks it’s looking for someone who owes it something. She even suspects it could be violent from the manner it enters and behaves in the house. After a short while it disappears, though on a few occasions, it has visited more than once the same night especially if there are visitors,” explained the boy gratuitously in great detail.

Govindram’s anxiety shot up several notches. “Was there any ghost earlier before your uncle’s demise? Whose spirit could this be, could your aunt guess,” asked Govindram

“Initially she had no idea. After repeated visits, she felt, from the way the ghost moved to different rooms with ease, angrily throwing the clothes about from the closets, and the way it lingered in the bedroom, it could be uncle revisiting his home. She has told me once that my uncle is visiting fearing the lender or his recovery agents, may cause trouble for her. For this reason, my aunt wished that I stay with her and my father readily agreed as there is also a good school nearby,” said Mani.

Govindram looked nervously at his watch showing 7.35 PM. It was dark and silent outside and he could hear only the patter of a drizzle. He was twiddling his fingers in vague fear.

It was then there was a knock on the door. Govindram started perspiring. Unperturbed, Mani looked through a peephole and opened the door for his aunt Ms Periasami. A relief washed over Govindram and after customary salutation expressed his sadness at the passing away of her husband Periasami.

Shocked, she wiped her eyes with her sari even as she looked at Mani nodding slightly and pleading with his eyes and then turned to Govindram to say,” Nothing is in our hands. We are helpless. ”

“I agree with you there are things beyond our control. I am concerned to hear that you are being troubled by nocturnal visits of a ghost almost daily. Do you believe it could be your late husband, as your nephew tells me? He also mentioned that it seemed prone to violence against those who displeased it,” asked Govindram.

Before she could respond, there was the unmistakable sound of the gate opening, followed by loud, slurred curses. Heavy knocks rattled the door, and Mani peered through the peephole again.

“It’s him,” he said gravely, turning to his aunt. “He’s back. And he’s angry.”

Govindram’s face turned pale. “H-him? Who’s him?”

Without batting an eyelid, Mani said, “Uncle...”

Govindram’s legs turned to jelly. Peering through the peephole, he saw the silhouette of a figure waving a walking stick and howling like a drunk. The sight was enough to send Govindram into a panic.

The next moment, he ran towards the rear door vowing never to return.

Mani opened the door to let a drunk Periasami in with his aunt screaming at her husband,” You worthless man, you have absolutely no shame in not repaying the loan you took years ago and yet squander money on drinking daily. That Marwadi neighbour came just now looking for you. I do not know what Mani told him and he ran away in mortal fear.”

When Mani’s bluff sunk in, all the three roared in laughter not knowing Govindram had tripped at the rear entrance and was lying on the ground hearing their boisterous jubilation.

 

Atul's Tryst with Truth (982 words)

 

Atul loved his Dada ji(grandfather) with all his heart. He cherished every moment spent with him, listening to his stories and conversations. The old man, well into his eighties, adored his grandson. Though the old man had three sons and two daughters, he stayed with Atul’s father the eldest with his other siblings living abroad.

Despite being only ten years old, Atul was a precocious boy and was fully aware that his mother viewed the old man as a burden imposed on her. She despised him and often insulted him for whatever he did or didn’t do.  His father remained indifferent and never confronted Atul’s mother about her rude behaviour. This attitude saddened Atul. He was not aware that this passive role of his dad stemmed from his preference not to upset his wife further in the absence of other options.

Atul’s favourite activity was taking strolls in the park opposite their house with Dadaji. The old man would entertain him with stories from his younger days and often advised him to be truthful, no matter the consequences. Atul, curious and thoughtful, would sometimes challenge him by asking, "What if telling the truth harms an innocent person? Would you still tell it ?"

Dadaji would smile proudly and say, "The truth should always be spoken when it serves a good purpose." He never complained about anyone even after hurtful insults though Atul cringed at his mom’s petulance.

Lately, though, Dadaji had been saying something that made Atul uneasy: “I’m biding my time. I feel it will happen soon. Promise me, no matter what, that you will take care of your parents with love and care, and never make them feel unhappy.”

“Dadaji, I know you’re unhappy sometimes. I am too when Mom shouts at you. I hate her for it,” Atul would reply, his voice full of frustration.

Dadaji would gently admonish him, “You must never talk like that. I’m disappointed with you. Never speak ill of others, no matter what they do or say.”

Atul was often scolded by his mother for spending too much time with his grandfather and she frequently complained about it to his father. No one in the house spoke to Dadaji. Atul’s father, who returned late from work, would spend time with his mother in front of the TV. Dadaji’s room was at the rear of the house, far from the rest of the family. Occasionally, his father would visit him, only to loudly remind him to "adjust to the ways of the house" and "not be a nuisance," though he never clarified what he meant. Atul, perceptive as he was, understood that his father said these things only to appease his mother.

Atul also knew his mother diluted Dadaji’s coffee with water and often gave him leftover or cold food. She made him eat alone at the dining table, much before the family sat down together for dinner. After his early lunch at 11 a.m., Dadaji had nothing to eat until 7 p.m. except for a cup of tea and a few biscuits at 4 p.m. Atul knew his grandfather was often hungry and would sneak cookies from the kitchen after school to share with Dada ji.

 Dadaji had a sweet tooth, but his mother rarely gave him any sweets, even though Atul’s father regularly brought home sweet packets. She would keep them in the fridge for days, only to give them away to the maid later. One afternoon, while Atul’s mother was out, leaving him and his grandfather alone at home, Atul became engrossed in a computer game and forgot about the time.

When he finally went downstairs at 4:30 p.m., he found Dadaji in the kitchen, opening a box of pedas he had taken from the fridge. Atul smiled and said, “Dadaji, you could’ve called me. Never mind, I’m hungry too. Let’s eat together.” They finished all five pedas in the box.

Around 7 p.m., Atul heard his mother shouting at the top of her voice. “Nothing is safe in this house! How can I lock the fridge every time I go out?”

She called out, “Atul, did you eat all the pedas from the full box I kept in the fridge? I was going to send them to my mother! It’s missing. I’m sure you wouldn’t touch it, so who else could have stolen it except the ever-hungry glutton in this miserable house?”

Atul, angry, shouted back, “Don’t accuse without knowing! I was hungry, and I checked the fridge. There were only five pedas, not a whole box as you’re saying. I ate them and shared them with Dadaji. What’s wrong with that? You can call me a hungry glutton or whatever you like, but Dadaji hadn’t even had his tea by then. It was 5 p.m.! I hate how you’re always shouting at him. I don’t want to live in this house anymore.”

Dadaji, who had heard everything from his room, felt tears trickle down his cheeks. His grandson had taken the blame to shield him from his mother’s wrath. A little while later, Atul entered his room and said, “Dadaji, I wasn’t truthful, but it was for a good reason.”

The old man hugged him tightly and kissed his forehead. “Come to see me first thing in the morning, before anyone else comes to my room. Do you understand, my little buddy?” The boy laughed and ran off.

The next morning, Atul woke up earlier than usual and remembered Dadaji’s request. He rushed to his side, only to find him sleeping unusually late. Gently nudging him, first softly and then harder, Atul quickly realized that Dadaji’s time had come, and he had finally found the peace he had longed for.

He could hardly suppress a mournful groan when he saw a small book of quotations lying by his side with a tag scrawled ‘To Dear Atul'  in Dada Ji's hand.

Madhavan and the mysterious ghost (725 words)

 Madhavan Namboodiri, a man in his early forties, was steeped in religious devotion and spiritual practices, his unwavering faith centred on Guruvayurappan. His bachelorhood, a quiet act of defiance, troubled his aged mother and sister with whom he lived. Yet, Madhavan found solace in his rituals, remaining undeterred by societal expectations.

For years, he worked as a government clerk in Kerala, his life following a predictable, serene path. But when a sudden departmental reorganization led to his transfer to a remote town in Chhattisgarh, Madhavan accepted his fate without protest. With a small box, bedding, and a shoulder bag as his only possessions, he arrived at the desolate station early one morning, where a colleague named Mohanty waited to receive him.

Mohanty presented him with two housing options: one nestled in the bustling bazaar area, surrounded by people and noise, and the other—an independent but dilapidated house—secluded and quiet, closer to a temple.

"I'll take the second one," Madhavan declared. "I need peace for my prayers, and the proximity to the temple suits me well. Besides, I cook my own food."

Mohanty hesitated, his face tightening with concern. "I’d suggest the house near the bazaar," he said cautiously. "This other one, well, it’s... isolated. Not to mention, you’re new to the area and don’t know the local language well. There’s safety in numbers."

Madhavan raised an eyebrow. "What’s the real issue, Mohanty? Why is the rent so low despite it being an independent house?"

Mohanty leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper. "The house is said to be haunted. No one’s lived there in years. People say a ghost roams the place at night."

Madhavan chuckled softly. "I’ve no fear of ghosts, my friend. If they exist, they’re no match for my faith."

Despite Mohanty’s pleas, Madhavan moved in, his mind untroubled by the supernatural warnings. The house, though worn by time and neglect, was cleaned up, and by evening, Madhavan had lit a lamp before the image of Guruvayurappan. The first night passed in peaceful silence, much to Mohanty’s relief.

But the peace was short-lived.

On the second night, after his usual prayers and recitation of the Sri Vishnu Sahasranamam, Madhavan woke abruptly at midnight, a strange heaviness pressing down on his chest. He sat up, gasping, and drank water, trying to shake off the oppressive feeling. When he lay down again, the sensation returned—this time stronger, as though an invisible weight bore down on him, suffocating him. He could feel a presence, unseen but undeniable.

Refusing to be cowed, Madhavan sat up and resumed reciting the sacred verses. Instantly, the heaviness lifted, and the room felt lighter. He continued praying until 2 AM before finally drifting into an uneasy sleep.

For the next few nights, the haunting repeated itself, till he commenced reciting Sahasranama though after 2 AM it did not trouble him. Each time, the presence grew more menacing, the weight on his chest heavier. Yet Madhavan’s resolve did not waver. He prayed with greater fervour, hoping to banish the sinister force plaguing him.

On the seventh night, however, the air in the house felt different. As he lay down after 2 AM after his prayers, the oppressive force unusually returned with a vengeance, nearly crushing him under its invisible weight. He could barely breathe, let alone sit up. Desperate, he cried out, “Oh Guruvayurappa! Why this trial? Please, save me!”

Suddenly, the pressure lifted. In the dim light, he saw it—a pale figure standing by the door, beckoning him with an unearthly but an elegant hand. It gestured urgently as if commanding him to follow.

Madhavan, murmuring "Narayana, Narayana" under his breath, got to his feet and followed the spectre outside. The figure glided through the night, leading him away from the house. And then, without clue, it vanished.

A deafening rumble erupted behind him. Madhavan spun around, his heart pounding. The house collapsed into rubble as if struck by an unseen force.

He stood frozen, unable to comprehend the horror he had just witnessed. What had saved him? Was the ghostly figure the same entity that had tormented him nightly, now turned saviour? Or had it been a divine messenger, sent by Guruvayurappan himself to answer his prayers?

Madhavan had no answers. But one thing was certain—he was ready to move near the bazaar.

 

 

Whose Inspiration ? (840words)

(An old story I regularly read to shore up my faith in the Supreme lord when it is lagging)

 There is a Perumal Koil (temple) not far from my house housing several deities with Lord Krishna being the principal deity. There were shrines for other gods as well. The temple is serene in the early mornings, with the soft hum of hymns, the rustle of devotees moving, and the faint fragrance of flowers and incense hanging in the air. I visited the temple daily in the early mornings and some days in the evenings too. Usually, I stop at the main shrine to pray and walk around other shrines without much pause.

Let me come to the main character in the story. In the last two months, I have been observing an elderly lady at the portico outside the main shrine away from the inner sanctum where the devotees enter for darshan and theertham (holy water). She posed no hindrance to others as she stood in a corner. A frail old lady with silver hair, good looking and in a traditional nine-yard sari worn in Vaishnavaite tradition, she was always seen devoutly praying to God with tears running down both cheeks. Her lips were always quivering presumably praying for fulfillment of wishes. If there was no crowd, I have seen her murmuring as if she was in conversation with God present before her. She would be staying for about 30 minutes and the priests took kindly to her as she caused no disturbance.

I would feel ashamed that I was not getting as much devotion and fervour as her and feel bad that my visit to the temple was merely a ritual devoid of passion and hunger for God that she displayed. There was a sense of inadequacy in my prayers and greater admiration for her. Gradually I grew acquainted with her and would greet her with a smile when she looked at me. Though we never exchanged words, I could feel a bond between us. If I missed seeing her for two days continuously, I would be concerned whether she had fallen sick. In a way, I felt a slight change in me as I grew more devout seeing her and started praying for greater devotion.

It was then that I missed seeing her continuously for more than a fortnight. I was certain that she must have fallen sick. I didn't know whom to ask or knew where she lived. As I was in the inner sanctum one day with none else present, I asked the priest “Are you aware why the old lady is not seen these days? I used to see her daily without fail and her devout presence was an inspiration for me."

The priest chuckled softly and said "You must be referring to Chellamma patti. I am surprised to hear that instead of the Lord Himself inspiring you towards bhakti, Chellamma patti doing it. Anyway, why don't you meet her yourself? She is in the house adjacent to the Ahobila mutt in the same road hardly a furlong away and the door is painted in green colour."

I was hesitant to meet her at her house but curiosity overtook my discretion. After all, I was just going to enquire about her well-being, I thought. The door was half open. I heard a loud noise from the TV. I called "Patti, patti" twice. There was no response as the volume of TV was high. I pushed the door and craned my neck inside. 

To my utter surprise, I found the old lady in a nightie  sitting on a sofa munching popcorn and watching a popular Hindi serial Bhagya Lakshmi on Zee TV. What a different setting from the tearful lady pleading in the divine ambience of the temple to a carefree lady relaxing on a sofa before a wall TV, I wondered. She did not notice me initially being engrossed with the show on the screen. When I coughed to draw her attention, she saw and welcomed me to sit by her side.

"What a surprise! I am happy to see you here. Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.

"No, I was concerned when I did not see you for long. I asked the priest. He gave me your address"

“Oh, oh, it is very sweet of you to have worried about me. I am fit and fine. I visited the temple daily to pray for the early marriage of my granddaughter. It was getting delayed and my daughter was worried. Luckily, thanks to Lord Krishna her marriage has been fixed. Since my prayer has been answered, I have stopped coming." she said very casually and laughed loudly.

The taunting yet profound words of the priest about my getting inspired by Chellamma patti instead of the Lord came sharply to my mind. It dawned on me that devotion is not just pleading tearfully before God in the temple alone but it is total faith in Him for him to answer your sincere prayers from wherever you are and doing whatever, even before TV munching popcorn or from a secluded forest.

Appearances are deceptive (665 words)

The young woman clad in Jeans and a T-shirt was standing restless at the back of the line at the Enquiries counter in the post office. About half a dozen people were ahead of her, and the clerk at the counter was working slowly and talking on her mobile frequently.. Just then, a well-dressed young man sauntered up to the counter, ignoring the line, and tried to catch the clerk's attention. The others in the queue, though visibly annoyed, remained silent.

“Mister, don’t you see the line?” the young woman shouted. “Please stand behind me.”

The young man turned, surprised. “I’m not here to do any business,” he explained. “I just wanted to inquire about an address in the area.”

She snapped back, “Do you think we’re here to chit-chat with the clerk? We all have inquiries to make. Get in line.”

“Sorry,” he replied calmly. “You could have told me softly. There’s no need to raise your voice. No one else seems to mind.”

Though he spoke politely, he moved to stand behind her. It was only then that she noticed how handsome he was—a tall man with chiselled features, the type who could easily play the hero in a movie. His expression, however, showed no sign of friendliness after her outburst. Regret washed over her; she wasn’t typically rude. The tension from some urgent tasks awaiting her at home must have triggered her temper.

Turning to him, she softened her tone. “I’m sorry. You mentioned needing an address. I live in this area and might be able to help. Which place are you looking for?”

His face relaxed slightly. “How kind of you! I’m new to town. I just arrived at the airport an hour ago. I have an appointment at a house on 3rd Cross, 21st Avenue. Do you know it?”

“Any landmark they mentioned?” she asked.

“Yes, they said there’s a KFC outlet at the corner of the main road.”

She smiled. “That’s just a stone’s throw from where I live. I can take you there.”

“No need to trouble yourself,” he replied, smiling back. “I’m supposed to go there only by 3 p.m., so I’ll grab some lunch at a restaurant first. Just tell me the route.”

“Go straight for about 200 yards, take a left at the signal, and turn right at the third street. That’s 3rd Cross. What’s the building number?”

“Sagar Apartments, number 22, I think,” he said.

“That’s the fourth building on the right,” she said, her voice suddenly shaky. Without another word, she abruptly left the line, hurrying off as if she had forgotten something.

At 3 p.m., Nirmal arrived at Sagar Apartments and was greeted by an elderly gentleman. Inside, there were several women and two other men. After exchanging pleasantries, a well dressed young woman entered with a tray of coffee, sweets and snacks. Her father introduced her, saying, “This is Nandita. She works with Oracle after completing her B.Tech.”

When Nirmal saw her, he was taken aback. Smiling, he asked, “Nandita, didn’t we meet at the post office a couple of hours ago?”

Startled, Nandita replied, “No, I didn’t go to the post office today.” Her father and the others present looked confused.

“How could that be?” Nirmal exclaimed. “You argued with me for cutting the line! How can you forget something like that so soon? It’s amusing.”

Just then, her father called out, “Sharmila, Sharmila!” Another young woman entered the room, and Nirmal's eyes widened in surprise as he saw her. She looked identical to Nandita. Sharmila couldn’t suppress a giggle.

Her father, puzzled, asked loudly, “Why are you giggling? Did you go to the post office this morning and have an argument with this young man?”

Sharmila, lowering her head, nodded.

Nirmal laughed. “Yes, this is the fiery one I met! The two of you look so much alike. I just hope Nandita is the gentler twin.” Nandita lowered her head with an imperceptible nod and a shy smile.

 

A few 55-word fiction

After a long time, here are some 55-word stories for a change to make you smile.

 1. Identity

A policeman stopped the car
‘You jumped the signal. Pay me Rs100’
No, I didn’t. It was green.
‘Sorry. either pay up or take the challan
‘Give me challan’
‘Your license please’
‘See my ID card’

R.Guruprasad
Vigilance Commissioner
Government of ……”

Sir, excuse me. I didn’t know

Never mind. Show me your identity card.

 2. Hello

Hello
Yes, sir
I need a piece of information.
I am new here, Sir
Call someone else
No one here
What crap?
True, all are dead here except me
What bull shit are you talking?
When everyone is dead, how can I say they are alive?
Where are you speaking from?
From the mortuary, Sir

 3. Friendly alert
He whispered in the crowded bus. “Pickpockets are plenty here. Be careful."
Immediately I felt my back pocket and sighed with much relief.
"Thank you for alerting me," I said as he neared the entrance.
When he alighted at the next stop, gratefully I touched my back pocket to find to my shock it empty.

 4. Fortune
I was sitting on the bench at the park.
When a small dog snuggled my feet, I patted it gently
Wagging its tail, it romped on the sidewalk happily. 
A man on cycle foolishly crushed the puppy.
Struck with remorse, he thrust 500 rupees.

“What name?”
“Dunno”
“Strange name” 
I genuinely pitied the street dog.

 5. The First time
My family was away.
I found her when strolling in the mall. Tall, shapely and attractive, she was.
I took her home. How lucky I am, I wondered even as I laid her on the bed.
I gingerly caressed her soft silky hair.
It’s my first gift of a Barbie doll for my baby daughter

 6. Jackpot
The neighbour said first thing in the morning "You will hit the jackpot today!"
I wondered how he knew my plan to visit the Casino.
With high spirits, I determined to try my luck fully. As I took the car out, I broke a flower pot mistakenly. My wife shrieked "You have hit Jack’s pot!!!"

 7. A night at a motel

It was midnight.
“No vacancy,” said the motel clerk.
“There is a key hanging on the board.
“Not suitable for occupation.”
“Give me the key, I have no place to go”
“You will regret”
“Never mind.”
An icy cold hand tapped me from behind as I inserted the key.
“I have lived here for ages.”

 8. Urgent Surgery
“I have unbearable pain below my right abdomen”.
After examination, the physician asked, “Have you made your will?”
Shocked, I asked, “Is it life-threatening?”
“Acute appendicitis”
“It is a minor surgery,” I said
Yes, minor for most but not for Dr Govinda, the only surgeon available.”
“Why?”
“He failed in anatomy thrice scoring single-digit marks

 9. Why?

She met her ex-flame in a mall

He dropped her home

‘Please come in.

‘Surely, I will’’

They sat on the sofa with drinks.

He hugged her tight. She melted

Soon they locked lips passionately

They went into the bedroom closing the doors

The next moment she rushed out screaming

Why?

Sorry, 55 words restriction!!

 10. Clever
The boy opened the bottle lying by the pond. Out came a genie.
“Ask me a wish" 
"Let me ask my mom."
“I cannot give time.”
"Okay, tell me how such a big form can be in the small bottle?”
"Simple like this” the genie went in. Capping the bottle he ran to his mom.
 

A silent confession (1136 words)

As Naresh took the car slowly out of the gate of his complex, a small boy waved his hand to stop the vehicle.​ Naresh lowered the window glass and looked at the ten-year-old boy dressed in tattered clothes. The boy came closer and spoke softly​,”​ Ma wants you to talk to her today.”

Naresh, with a ​​tinge of impatience in his voice, hurriedly replied, “OK, I will do,” and drove the car towards the mall

Nirmala, his wife, sitting by his side, ​p​lied him with a spate of questions “Who is that boy? He seems from a poor background. Why does he want you to talk to his Ma? Do you know her?”

“Yes, they are known to my family​ even before our marriage. Possibly she needs some help. Let me find out​,” replied Naresh in a subdued tone.

She was not ​​convinced but kept silent. The evening lost its charm for her. Even when she reached home, the question of who she could be kept troubling her mind. The next day when Naresh was away, she happened to see his passbook​ lying on his table by chance and was intrigued to notice that he had drawn in the first week of each month without fail Rs. 5000.. Her mind was riddled with all sorts of doubts and imaginary fears.

After dinner ​w​hile watching TV, she casually asked him concealing her unease, “Did you meet the woman, the boy’s mom?”

Startled, Naresh turned towards her and nodded his head in the affirmative.

“Don’t you feel the need to take me into confidence on these secretive meetings?” she asked. I see you draw some money from your bank each month. I don’t know what for,” she asked sharply.

​With some weariness at her suspicious tone, he sighed and said,​ “I understand your concern. The monthly withdrawals are towards meeting a liability. Any amount of my explanation will not satisfy you easily. I will take you to her house ​tomorrow when ​you will understand things better. Till such time, let us not discuss this.” Naresh replied.

“Why should I meet this woman and humiliate myself further? Either you make a clean breast of all your surreptitious dealings​ now or be prepared to lose me,” she exploded.

“Don’t talk crap and indulge in unfair insinuations. I am not willing to talk any further. If you wish to know more, you can come with me tomorrow” he said with finality and left for the bedroom

She stayed behind seething in anger and did not follow him.​ She fell asleep after a long time on the sofa.

​A​s they walked down​ the next day, the dimly lit narrow lane with cheap tenements on both sides​, she saw with revulsion the lane was dirty with garbage littered all around, children defecating in the open and dogs running around. The boy saw them and ran to his house to alert his mom. When they entered, a woman in her forties greeted them with a namaste and said with warmth," Welcome, Chota bhai(Young brother), we are honoured by your visit along with your wife.”

She gave a big smile to Nirmala and said “Welcome. I have no proper chairs to offer. Please sit on this stool. I am so happy to see you. You are very beautiful and make an ideal match ​​for my bhai (younger brother).” ​Meanwhile, one little girl of around twelve brought cool water in stainless steel tumblers. The boy was standing at the door watching her with interest.

Nirmala turned around to see an old woman lying very sick on the floor with her legs folded​ and drawn together. The house showed signs of poverty everywhere except in the smiles of the woman and her children.

​As the woman went to the kitchen to prepare chai, Naresh broke the silence and said​ almost in a whisper,  ​ "Nirmala,​this lady is like my elder sister.​ She was happily living with her husband and children till one day I shattered their lives by my reckless act.​ Her husband who was on his way home​ after work was killed on the spot when my car hit him.​ It was no fault of his​ but fully mine. I decided then that I would adopt this lady as my elder sister and help her bring up her family.​ It was a penance for me​ and a duty​ that I owed her and her children.​ The monthly withdrawals you noticed are the payments made to her. She called me yesterday seeking advice ​on whether to admit her ​mother-in-law to a hospital.​ I arranged ​for a doctor to see her and she is better now.”

Nirmala looked at him with some confusion still writ on her face.”​ You could have explained all this to me instead of keeping me in the dark about what seems a laudable work.​ Why the secrecy,​ I don’t follow?​Do you think I would have stood in the way?” she ​asked

“I will explain on our way back.​ Let us talk to them meanwhile​,”​ he replied

After spending some time with them exchanging pleasantries they left for home.

“Nirmala,​ I should have told you on my own.​ I was shy of admitting to a grievous wrong done by me lest you think ​poorly of me.​ It was before our marriage.​ I was returning from a ​​late-night party.​ This man was cycling after his shift​ at the edge​ away from the road.​ I was careless and talking on my mobile till the accident occurred.​ My dad being a senior police official ensured that I was not held responsible.​ But my mind was restless when I came to know about his wife,​ two young children and his aged mom.​ It was a conscious decision that I took​ to help them, “he ​explained

“What is there to be shy of? I am actually proud of you​,”​ she ​​replied.

“No,​ I must confess that when I drove the car​, I was fully drunk and unfit to drive.​ I stopped drinking from that night.​ It was this fact that deterred me from taking you into confidence.​ The weight of ​the burden on my heart has today been lifted.​ ”

As he stopped the car in ​​front of his gate,​ she moved closer to him and hugged him tightly with pride in her eyes​​. She added, "The amount you give is hardly adequate. I will chip in on my part an ad-hoc amount for basic needs like a cot, chairs, beds and a gas stove and bear fully the expenses for the education of the two kids till their graduation."

Naresh, his heart lighter than it had been in years, returned her embrace aware he was finally free of the guilt that had haunted him for so long​ and also happy that his wife fully supported him.