Ek Ajnabee

Ding dong! Neha’s heart skips a beat as the doorbell rings.

‘Who can it be at this hour?’, she wonders.

Avi has joined a new office in Bangalore today, so they relocated to this city yesterday evening. Realizing that Neha has stepped out of her birthplace Jamshedpur for the first time in her life, Avi has strictly advised her to be very careful before opening the door to any stranger.

Peeking through the keyhole, Neha finds an elderly woman standing outside. The smile on her face is definitely reassuring and reminds her of her mother. Realizing nostalgic emotions welling up within her, Neha hesitates for not more than a couple of minutes before opening the window.

“Hello dear”, the lady responds with a warm smile.

Touched, Neha smiles back as she feels her tensed muscles loosening up…

“Hello Mam…” she greets feebly.

“Mam? Oh come on, Aunty, call me Aunty. You are like my daughter…”

“Yes…yes, Aunty…” Neha feels the warmth spreading inside.

Pointing to a closed door next to hers, the lady says, “I am Mrs Tandon, your next-door neighbour. Saw you moving to this flat yesterday. So, I thought of visiting you…will you not allow me to come inside?” the elderly questions, albeit in feigned admonition.

“Oh, yes…yes Aunty, I am so sorry, please come inside,” Neha now ushers her neighbour towards the drawing room.

Seated comfortably, she looks around at the boxes and cartons strewn all over the place.

“Sorry, the place is messy. I have been trying to unpack and arrange the things, but it will take time. I also need to do my household chores…” Neha shuffles apologetically.

“I can understand dear…so I have come to invite you for dinner at my place tonight,” Mrs Tandon adds gently.

“Oh, that would be great, but please don’t bother, I can manage…”, Neha attempts to dissuade her. Avi has already assured her that they would order food from outside for dinner.

“Arre, let me share a secret. Actually, I love cooking and am fond of trying out new recipes. My husband often goes out on his office trips. My son is settled in Canada, so I’m all alone for days and there’s no one to taste my dishes. That’s why I am inviting you…,” the lady adds sheepishly, visibly embarrassed. The melancholy in her voice, however, can’t be missed.

Listening to her, Neha remembers her mother desperately trying to fight back tears as she left Jamshedpur. So, she accepts the invitation without further ado.

“Great, so I will leave now and prepare some exciting dishes you will love,” her eyes shine brightly as the lady heads towards the door.

“Don’t be late, I have been in this city for more than twenty years now, so will share lots of stories with you,” Mrs Tandon waves her hand with a naughty wink.

Closing the door, Neha already starts liking the new place. Mrs Tandon is so sweet…’ she warms up to the thought of having such a loving neighbour.

Just then the doorbell rings again.

Lost in her thoughts, Neha unlocks the door without checking through the keyhole.

“Hello, am Mrs Dixit, your opposite-door neighbour,” she announces with a comforting smile.

“Oh, hello Aunty, I am Neha, please come inside,” Neha applies the lesson learnt from her previous encounter.

“I will not sit today, am in a hurry. But I saw you moved into this flat yesterday. I can understand you must be struggling without a maid…” she sounds truly sympathetic.

“Yes Aunty, if you know someone…” Neha does not attempt to hide her desperation.

“Don’t worry, I will send a couple of them. You talk to them and select the one that suits you. But meanwhile, I have got some paratha and sabzi for the two of you...” she smiles lovingly as she puts down the bowls on the table.

“You know I am not that good at cooking; in fact, you should have met Mrs Tandon.  She stayed here, just your next-door neighbour – a loving lady and a great cook. She was even planning to start her own café. Her husband never approved this plan, and she went into depression”, the sadness in her voice is evident.

“But we have already received an invitation for dinner today from Mrs Tandon,” Neha is visibly amused at all the pampering she is receiving from strangers in this new city.

“Who invited you for dinner today?” Mrs Dixit jumps out of the sofa.

Taken aback by the sharp reaction, Neha stutters, “Well…. Mrs Tandon – our next-door neighbour, you just referred to her, right?”

“Yes, but she committed suicide two years back in this house.”

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