Retired Major General Nitin Gadkari published his novel ‘OSCAR TANGO( On Target)’ in December 2019, which was a fiction; but threw light on the efforts put in by our brave Indian Army personnel and intelligence wing while countering the terrorist activities and their plans supported by our neighboring enemy country for the past four decades in Kashmir . The writer has himself served the Indian Army for 37 years and has written lots of short stories, which are available on his blog ‘Faugy Strategy’.
One of his short stories ‘The Lady Next Door’ is published below with his consent for the readers of magzmumbai.
The Lady Next Door
In his deep sleep, Rohan thought he heard his doorbell ringing. He ignored it half out of sleep and half out of the thought that he was dreaming. But when it rang the second time he was sure it was a real ring. For heaven’s sake, what time is it? He asked himself with half his eyes opened. He looked at the bedside clock, it was showing 2 o’clock in the morning. Who on earth would visit him at this unearthly hour, he wondered. He did not know anyone in Delhi, his family and the ancestral house were in Pune, and no one from the office had any business to knock on his door at such an odd hour. He collected his slippers and put on the light and walked almost 30 meters before he came to the entrance. He had put on the light of the entire house, more out of fear and less out of concern for walking to the door, which was a simple straight line from his bedroom exit. It took him a couple of seconds to open the three fastening systems which the door had for night security. He was wondering who was on the other side for he could not see anything outside through the eyeglass owing to sheer darkness outside. With care, he opened the door and tried to ask, “Who is there?” And got no reply. He gathered courage and stepped out of his door, and all he could see was darkness. “Koi hai,” he shouted in Hindi, the local language. Pin drop silence. By now, his eyes had got used to the night. It was wintertime, and the temperatures in Delhi were low, he was shivering and sweating, both at the same time, he wondered how? It should not take a genius to guess that. It could happen when outside it’s freezing cold and inside your heart is beating 140 times per minute. Since there was no response, he came back into the house and closed the door behind, fastening it harder this time.
Rohan was staying on the 13th floor of a sprawling flat in the area near Lutyens in Delhi. The peculiarity of the apartment was that on one level, there were four units, but none could see each other’s main door as they were in four different cardinal directions. The central lobby too was big with two lifts, and residents could meet or see each other only when they were waiting for the elevator. Who would climb 13 floors to ring the bell of his flat and then not wait, Rohan was guessing? He ruled out the work of a prankster. The only logical explanation he could think of was the society sentry, who sits down at the enterance must be wanting some medicines and that’s why he had come knocking at Rohan’s door. Rohan’s benevolence was well known to all, moreover, he was alone, and that made him an ideal candidate for asking help during such emergencies. Rohan was happy with that explanation and promised himself to check it out with the sentry in the morning. He was glad to be tucked into his bed and deep into his quilt. Sleep was not easy to come now, something about the situation seemed odd to his logical mind. He never realised when he fell asleep again, to be woken up rudely by his morning alarm at 6.30 am, his usual waking up time. Today that time seemed unearthly. Rohan pressed the snooze button wanting to get another 10 minutes before he got up. He had to leave home by 8 am to be in the office on time. Any later, the merciless Delhi traffic would increase his travelling time by another 15 minutes if not more for every five minutes of delay.
While it was a routine day at work, yet somewhere lurking in some remote corner of his mind was the thought about last night’s incident. It was like a weight on your back and a queasy feeling in the stomach. He returned home earlier than his usual time as he wanted to catch the sentry. He went to the small cabin where the sentry sits, but found no one there. He went to the society gate to check, and saw the Security Chief there. Rohan enquired as to who was on duty in the ‘F’ block last night. He was told it was Mohan. “Could I speak to Mohan, is he here now?” Enquired Rohan. The Security Chief informed him that they have been trying to contact Mohan since the morning, “Mohan never showed up for work last evening, consequently ‘F’ block did not have a watchman the previous night.” “Do you have any idea as to who could have rung my bell at 2 am in the morning today,” asked Rohan. The Security Chief was surprised, “Sir, at such an unearthly hour in winters in Delhi even the ghosts go off to sleep in their quilt,” he laughed loudly at his own joke.
Rohan was quite disturbed because his theory had been busted and he could find no other logical explanation. The Copernicus marg flat was a big one, and he was staying alone in the three-bedroom apartment. An eerie feeling began to erupt in his stomach. If anything was to happen to him, nobody would know for days as there was no interaction amongst the flatmates on the 13th floor. He braced himself and brushed the thoughts aside and decided to stay positive. He went for his usual run after office hours and did some exercises. He ate the meal which his man Friday had cooked and locked himself in the bedroom and put the TV on hoping that sleep would come fast as usually was the case every day after a hectic day in office. But Murphy’s law came into play; ‘when you want something desperately, you will never get it’. Rohan half slept with a fear lurking in his mind that the bell might ring again. It was, 2.30 am, when Rohan was at ease and fell asleep.
In next few days Rohan’s anxiety levels came back to normal as there was no ringing of the bell or any other incident which could throw his ESPs (Extra sensory perception) up. In a week he almost forgot the incident and got busy in his office work. His regular run and exercise regime were highlight of his day’s routine. Being wintertime when he returned from his run, it was usually dark. That day too it was dark outside, and the central lobby on the ground floor was poorly lit and empty. Rohan waited for the lift to come. It was such a slow lift, and it irked Rohan no end. When it arrived, Rohan stepped in, and immediately behind someone walked in the lift. He had not realised that he had company. All along, he thought he was alone waiting for the elevator. She was a lady, middle-aged about mid-forties. Nothing distinguishable. Rohan pressed 13 th floor, the lady seemed to be happy with that. Is she also going to the 13 th floor Rohan thought? Must be otherwise why would she not press any other button. Rohan was shy as far as ladies were concerned and hardly ever opened a conversation with a lady on his own. He didn’t think much of the silence that prevailed in the lift, which was taking its own sweet time to climb. It was around the 6th floor the lady asked Rohan, “Don’t you think there is something odd here”. Rohan was more surprised at the odd question than the opening of the conversation by this lady whom he had never met or introduced. For a moment, he thought maybe she was talking to herself then he realised that the question was directed at him. “No,” he said, why do you ask? By now, the lift had reached the 13th floor, and the door opened. Both got out, “Do you stay on this floor?” Rohan asked. “Yes, she said I stay next to you on the right-hand side of the central lobby,” she replied while pointing in that direction. Rohan was getting an uncomfortable feeling and wanted no more to be part of the conversation. But she stepped in front, and as if trying to block him and prevent him from going any further, she stood in his way. “You know someone knocks on my door at night,” she said to him. That got Rohan’s attention, he seemed interested now. “Really, and when was it that someone knocked your door,” he asked. “I experience it all the time,” she replied. “Haven’t you reported the matter or told anyone?” Rohan asked. “No, I never thought anyone would believe me,” she replied. “You know what, I had heard that a few years back a lady … ,” Rohan cut her abruptly and said he had to go as he was expecting an important call. Speaking this he sidestepped to leave. “Do ring my bell anytime you think I can help,” she heard him say. Rohan was sure that there is some connection between the knocks at the lady’s door and ringing of his bell at night. He thought he will take up the matter with the Security Chief next day.
His next day at the office was more disturbed than ever. He was in a hurry to get back home. He left office exactly at the closing hours and went straight to the Security Chief in his cabin at the entrance of the society. “Are you aware that flat no F 1301 and F1302 are both having their bells rung at night and the prankster is not traceable,” Rohan blurted out as if he was waiting to relieve his burden. “How do you know about F 1302?” Asked the Security Chief. “I met the lady staying in F1302 yesterday, and she told me about the occurrences,” Rohan replied to him. “Was she a middle-aged around mid-forties, wheatish complexion with an extended nose?” The security officer asked. “Yes, right you got her description perfect,” Rohan said. The Security Chief took a deep breath and waited for a moment looking at Rohan’s face and said, “Sir the lady in F1302 died six months before you came in, she jumped from the 13 th floor”. Rohan felt the ground under his feet was slipping. He didn’t realise when he left and reached his flat.
That night at 2 am, he heard his doorbell ring. Rohan was sweating and didn’t know what to do. He was certain it was the lady’s Ghost at the door. He didn’t want to open the door so hid his face deeper in the pillow, chanting the Hanuman’s (Hindu monkey god) name in rapid succession. A minute later the bell rang again this time it was a little more deliberate. ‘What should I do’? He remembered his father’s words; always confront your fears that’s the only way of living a tension free life. Rohan decided to check it out. He switched on the lights and walked meekly across the hall and looked through the eyeglass. This time he saw a figure standing. He couldn’t make out who it was, but Rohan was sure it was the lady. He quickly went in and grabbed the ‘Hanuman Chalisa’; the holy book, an Indian equivalent of the Christian cross for the devils. He opened the door, and waited for her to appear. Half a minute passed and he didn’t find anyone coming so he shouted “Kaun hai?”
He saw someone walking to him from the side of flat no F1302. He was a man, he said, “Sorry to have rang your bell again today, I am the driver who takes the lady living in F1302 to work at the Capgemini call centre at Gurgaon…
Those interested in reading many more short stories written by Maj.Gen. Nitin Gadkari may refer to his blog link :