The Terrace

'Almost everything about Delhi is nice Ma. We enjoyed ourselves a lot. Except that my precious afternoon naps had gone for a toss. Children used to play and run on the terrace all afternoon...... Yes ma,I had thought of going and telling them but then when I decided to go one noon, I saw a man running upstairs. I think he was working as a help for the adjoining flat. I saw him going upar a number of times afterwards as well. And as I was alone at that time, I wasnt really comfy going there. Even Anand told me not to. Chalo but, now we are back and I have become Kumbhakaran again. Hehehehe!!!.... .'  When she hung up, she saw Anand staring at her, very white. The first time she saw him that way.  'What happened?' she asked. He sat down on the bed and smiled weakly. Then he motioned her to come and sit next to him. When she did, he held her by the shoulder and said. 'I did'nt want to tell it to you then, but I think I can now.' She was looking blank. He smiled again. ' Vandana, dont get freaked out now. There were never any children playing on the terrace Baba, and no man went upstairs. The terrace has been locked since the past six years after a labourer's daughter who was playing there died mysteriously. Her father in the trauma became mentally unstable and committed suicide. He is the man you saw running upstairs. Everybody in that building has seen him. That is why everyone stayed indoor in the afternoon. Nobody was harmed ever. But it's like, the building has captured a film of that fateful day and replays it every afternoon.' Vandana was hardly breathing. Her mind was also replaying the memory. The man running upstairs, breathless, crying 'Laado, mahri laado, mahri laado...'