The Tenants Of Shanti Villa

Chapter 1: A messed up place

Like every day, there is an ongoing fight, as to who will collect the water first from the local tap.

Quite a scene of irony, as more than half of the locality women stand behind and wait for their turn to arrive. The water keeps flowing away, much to their anguish.

The fight works in stages, just a quibble at first, abuses next, and finally, it moves on the women pulling at each other's hair with such ferocity as if this is what they have been trained on, for decades.

Sridhar has been observing this with quite some interest from afar.

Already late for school, he has finally decided that if he going to be late anyway, he may just finish watching this "Hungama" on the way.

Sridhar, a boy of fourteen, with his small family comprising of his father and mother has just shifted to Pune a few weeks ago.

Being one of the nine resident families at Shanti Villa in Chirkoot colony was a challenge by itself, if not moving to his fifth new school was not an addition to the conveyor belt of his troubles.

Yes, the troubles keep coming.

Still, for now, Sridhar is ready to exchange anything for how things have been for him at Shanti Villa.

Contrary to how its name suggests "Shanti Villa" is not so much about "Shanti" or peace at all. It is so much of a mess that Sridhar wishes the place would have an upgrade if it became haunted someday.

To start, there are only three common bathrooms, for nine resident families. Yes, you have heard it quite right.

The landlord simply refuses to make provision for another one or two at sight. Quite evidently he had gotten irritated by such demands in the past.

As a result of which the rule that no one shall be able to ask for any increased number of washroom chambers has been promptly included in the tenant contract itself.

It would be very foolish to venture out into describing the rooms as they seem more like pharaoh coffins.

Very congested and small for a family of three, like Sridhar's, let alone a family with five children.

Indeed, one of Sridhar's neighbors, Mr. Khanna has five children.

Sometimes Sridhar wonders how they all fit into that room, and his thoughts flow through enough to make him ponder how a so very skinny and bone-framed man like Mr. Khanna has five offspring in the first place.

.

.

.

Germinating in Mrs. Gupta's mind was a doubt she just could not possibly overlook.

Something is very much up in flames in the room just next to her.

Mrs. Gupta, Sridhar's mother, is a vibrant yet quite short-tempered woman in her late thirties.

She could hear those utensils being thrown about and verbal abuses and taunts being used with nothing but full passion.

It is a known fact, that in a housing so very congested, nearly every resident gets familiar with each other's face much akin to waking up every day to a glowing sun.

What completely messed her mind up was how, a single young woman in her twenties, could have a marital argument she was so very familiar with.

And even if she just living with her "boyfriend" and had not married yet, the guy has never been seen.

She tiptoes to the door and gently presses her ear into its old cranky wooden frame, hoping to hear something more.

Quite to her astonishment, as she keeps hearing the tantrum being thrown inside by the girl, the other person in the room seems to be very accustomed and numb to it.

Why else would there be not a single syllable uttered in response?

In all this cloud of suspicious thoughts going inside her mind, she has failed to notice, how Sridhar has quite discreetly crept behind her.

The boy, with curved eyebrows and a very confused face, is just having a hard time grasping what exactly his mother is up to.

He stealthily moves closer and closer to the door, until he too has his ear on the frame.

Sridhar watched with eager eyes, hoping their acts wouldn't land them in a pot of hot water.

And the devil did come along with the thought.

The old wooden door, poorly hinged and already strained by Mrs. Gupta's weight, gave a loud crack as the hinges broke, going down to the floor and taking poor Sridhar along with it.

It had been a few hours since this ruckus flourished in the residence, and shanti villa had been, without much doubt, up in flames.

What seemed to be an ongoing marital argument, has turned out to be a TV, whose volume touched the stairs of heaven, and the girl Pritha dozing off over a large packet of potato chips.

Unironically, even the loud bang of the door going down had failed to wake her up.

What seemed to catch the attention of the locality though, was how Mrs. Gupta and the landlord were in a very heated argument over compensating for the broken door.

While the landlord wanted a new door built and all the money for it, Mrs. Gupta was very quick to point out how the door was already fumbling and would have broken in a few weeks or months anyway.

Mr. Gupta, upon returning home has not been pleased at all.

Poor Sridhar, confined to the balcony for today was visibly sad over the scolding he had kept being on the receiving end today.

He had been having a mourning session with himself, listening to sad songs when he noticed something very strange in the alley in front of the building.