What is the question? │✔

{ 10 }

"Devi Ji, a signature here please!"

Accepting the pile of letters and couriers, she skillfully balanced them on one hand, her other set of fingers clasping around the fancy fountain pen, and gracefully carving out her name on the flimsy form.

"Why is this last Friday's date?"

"Might be a mistake Ji, but I don't think it matters."

Leaving the door wide open, she rushed inside her house panting and dropped the load on the dining table. Flexing her arms, she settled on the chair, pouring herself a glass of water. Gulping it down in a go, her eyes ran over the clutter.

Huh. So many packages.

Sure, she used to receive many posts but this was an unusually large stack. And a big box covered and packaged so well, screaming out 'confidential'! The biggest problem was how the letters of all five houses on the floor were dropped into her house. Easy work for the postman.

But never had she ever received such boxes, at least in the past year. It always used to consist of some official business letters for her husband or some relatives sending letters for her mother-in-law. Her own mother would never bother to send any, rambling on about expensive letters.

Quite often the old lady from the adjacent house would receive money orders from her sons. Otherwise, it would be Masterji who always used to get packs of books from his colleagues from around the world, but never a box like this or even a letter. And one of the quarters was Veer's, who only stayed there to watch cricket matches.

That left only one person. The one locked inside in his own home.

Curious. She was very curious.

She walked out into the corridor, observing the silent ground.

Silent only because the children were at school. An hour or so and they would be back, destroying the peace right away. It would probably be an understatement to say that she was fond of kids. She adored them.

Sighing, she felt quite alone at the moment. Her husband had left for work and her mother-in-law for a pilgrimage. The whole floor was still, none of the neighbors there, except for the old lady. And she wasn't that desperate yet. Well, she assumed at least that none of the neighbors were there since all the doors were closed. And usually, when the houses were occupied, the doors were left open, except for one of course.

Heading back to her own place, she left the door open for Puchki or Veer, the ones who would be the first ones to gobble down all the food she made and only then go to their own places. A laugh left her lips, remembering the gourmands. And that is when her eyes fell on the mess.

'Perfect timing!' she mused.

"Let's see, deal from Majumdars, construction project of the dam, boring boring boring. When will Vishal stop tricking people into dirty money work like this? I'm tired of telling him! Money orders from Delhi, psst! She needs company, you moron! Thick binds ... hmm, has to be some books for Masterji written in that pathetic gibberish! Ah ... what's that language called? Ah ... Mathematics! Bah, useless! Let's keep you aside."