What is the question? │✔

{ 4 }

"Masterji, don't tell me you are scared of that tiny knife!"

Peeling off the dusty dress of the medium-sized potato, Masterji glared at the giggling boy. It was surely a funny sight, a man in his early forties, after so many years of bachelorhood, still struggling in his small but comfortable kitchen. All ten fingers of his, secured by colorful finger caps. Red, orange, blue, green, you name it. And the young boy who should've been occupied with his 'Mauryan and Post Mauryan era' notes, was clearly distracted.

"Why are you not studying?"

Placing a hand on his forehead, he sighed.

"King Chandragupta is jumping up and down inside my head. God forbid that he decides to permanently settle down there!"

Opening up the nearby shelf, Masterji threw an ointment tube at him. Perfect throw noted Veer. He eyed the green covered cream, wondering how Boroline would cure his headache.

"This will definitely clean up your sense of humor!"

Suddenly, the front door had Veer's complete attention. With a large grin decorating her face, the ever-friendly neighbor, Devi, walked in with a steel bowl in hand. The spongy white balls inside it were not unnoticed by Masterji. Within seconds the bowl was snatched away, the object inside being carefully examined by Veer. After a few seconds, his face broke out a grin.

"Roshogulla!"

Freeing himself from his protection shields and kitchen ensemble, Indroneel walked towards the boy, smacking his head. Grumbling about the 'generation' and 'manners', he eyed the dish devoured by the gourmand and the person who stood at the end receiving compliments for her culinary skills. Not expecting an explanation, he asked straightaway.

"Any celebrations, Devi?"

Chuckling, the woman replied.

"No Masterji, nothing like that. Our Puchki from the second floor was asking for these yesterday. So I thought, why not? Moreover, we have a kid in this house too, so ..."

As she trailed off, Veer glared at her, his cheeks puffed up. After all, he had generously allowed the two sugar balls to live inside his mouth, struggling to create space for the third. Masterji poured him some water, as their guest went on and on about the old deaf man on the first floor. Gulping down the water, Veer panted, taking a break.

Devi took notice of nothing and continued.

"That wretched greedy woman who came yesterday to collect the donations! She was so shameless that she refused to accept the hundred rupee note I gave! Asking for five hundred! Her son is somewhere abroad and that's why she flaunts her money all the time! Was saying that they were going to buy an estate in some posh place! Pshh, as if!"

Masterji, having nothing to say, kept mum. However, Veer, who had an opinion on anything and everything, was kind enough to share his pearls of wisdom.

"Boro loker boro kotha!"

Just as she was about to agree with him, there was a huge commotion. Rushing outside, the trio stood at the balcony on their floor, watching the scene ahead of them. A little girl, barely eight years old, crying with her eyes closed. The people from all the floors rushed downstairs, coaxing the girl. But it was only when she saw Devi that she decided to calm down.

"Puchki, what's the matter? Did someone hurt you? Shubo, what happened?"

The boy who stood next to the sniffing girl pointed at the door on the opposite side on the third floor. The slightly open door, all of a sudden, shut tightly with a bang. But not before Masterji spotted the thick beard. And that itself explained for who it was. The new tenant had been living there for six months or so.

Extremely quiet and reserved. Allergic to daylight it seems. Remains locked up inside his four walls. And yes. This unique creature had a name.

Ismail Ansari.

That's all they knew. His name. Nothing about him, where was he from, what does he do, nothing. A big fat nothing. And such secretive, mysterious, dangerous personalities were strictly prohibited in their colony where walls did not separate families.

The whole thing was about how the kids went to his house, to ask for the ball which fell over his place. According to their descriptions, he was very rude. The elders listened to them as they rambled on about those scary eyes. Knowing how it could be made into a big issue, Masterji asked the people to leave and left the place himself, Veer tagging along with him. The latter could not keep his tongue inside his mouth.

"That man is so shady! I told you from the beginning itself, right? See I kn—"

One glare from his Neel Ba was enough for him to shut it. Meekly his steps slowed down and he dashed towards Devi, choosing to console the kids rather than facing the Math teacher's wrath. Standing at the doorstep of his house, Masterji, for one last time, watched the blue closed door on his floor, at the end of the passage.

The grandfather clock gave a chime and joined its melody to the resonating thoughts inside his head, both blending into a ceaseless wordless string of music.