He held the letter typed on bond paper in his hands and read it again for the seventh time.

DEAR MOYUK IT GIVES US GREAT PLEASURE TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU ARE PROMOTED TO BRANCH MANAGER GURGAON, PHASE 1 BRANCH EFFECTIVE An overwhelming sense of joy, pride and accomplishment took over as he recalled the years of hard-work, months of over-achieving targets and hours of overtime that he had put in. For a small town boy like him who had been orphaned at an early age of eleven, it was an achievement that he had risen to the role of a branch manager of a multinational bank almost as fast as management graduates from premiere business schools would. Life has finally started paying off. He thought to himself. I wish my parents were alive. They would have been so happy to see me reach till here. They would have shared the joys and sorrows of the last two decades with me had that road accident not occurred. He folded the letter and put it back in his bag. He dismissed the sense of loss of his parents which never left him and called his girlfriend to share the news with her. He then called up the few close friends and planned a celebration for the evening. Moyuk had been given a week to move and was expected to join the new role by the next Monday. He met his current landlords the same evening with a box of sweets and told them about the move along with offering a months notice pay to them which they cordially accepted. Why do I care ! The companys willing to pay for the cost of relocation anyways. Next, he called the property dealer in Gurgaon whose number had been passed on by the new reportees from his new branch. Hi, my name is Moyuk Goswami. I am moving as the new branch manager at the International Development Bank in Phase 1. I was given your number by Aarushi, she must have spoken to you about me. They told me you could help me get a place to stay on rent .. The man at the other end replied in an at-your-service tone. Absolutely sir. Surely. I would just like to ask you a few questions about your preferences. First off, are you married or not Sir ? Im not married. But I do have a girlfriend who visits from time to time. Right. And do you consume liquor and non veg ? I dont drink, but I eat non vegetarian food. Moyuk smirked at the mind-set of the Indian landlord.

Only married families with kids or single saints who have sworn to celibacy can get a house easily. A gay serial killer who doesnt smoke, drink and eat non vegetarian has a higher probability of becoming a tenant than a working professional with a girlfriend and who occasionally eats non vegetarian. And what kind of a budget are you looking at sir ? Moyuk thought about this for a moment. He had been living in a small one room with attached bath for the last 3 years which was small even for one person. It used to feel a tad bit overcrowded even if his girlfriend would come over. He had now been promoted and could afford a slightly bigger house in a better locality. However, the years of poverty he had lived in after his parents had died came back to him. Working jobs in the night to pay for his own education during the day, paying first for books and uniforms and then for meals, sacrificing the movie with friends so he could buy that one tie for his interviews. It all came back to him. Well I want a decent size house in a decent, peaceful locality but in less than 10,000 rupees per month. He heard a slight chuckle on the other side. What sir! You are a branch manager at International Development Bank. You would easily be earning atleast a lakh a month. Im sure you can shell out a little more for rent. And besides, where would you get a decent house in a decent locality for 10 thousand ? How much I earn is none of your business. Ive told you my requirements. Now are you going to help me find one or should I ask my branch guys to contact another broker and review your credit ratings ? Moyuk retorted. Pesky brokers , always ready to suck you dry. Errr .. not at all sir. You come on Saturday. Im sure well find you something that youll like The broker replied, slightly taken aback. Good. Moyuk disconnected the phone. The next few days passed very quickly as he hurriedly completed a handover to his manager who would later pass it on to his replacement. All the while, the excitement of the new role, new responsibilities and a better life gave him a rush which diluted everything else in his life. He visualized himself sitting in his own cabin with his nameplate on the door. I dont have too much with me in any case, packing would hardly be a hassle on Sunday. He decided. On Saturday, Moyuk got ready early caught the metro to Gurgaon. He decided against taking his car realizing he might have to drive around a lot while house hunting which would mean extra spend on fuel expenses. He knew the broker would anyways be more than happy to drive him around in his own car.

The broker was waiting at the station for Moyuk. They exchanged greetings and were on their way to the first house. Moyuk felt that the broker was a little more chatty than normal. But then they always are, he thought to himself. Sir this first house is a very nice place. All managers live in this colony. Its newly constructed, fully furnished and with a modular kitchen. The broker drove the two to their first destination. Moyuk spent about fifteen minutes inspecting the place and quite liked it. He finally inquired about the rent. Eighteen thousand per month Sir. The broker said with a big beaming smile on his face. Moyuk felt a slight anger rise up his throat. I told you my budget didnt I ? This is almost double of what I had quoted. Do you not understand that or what ? The brokers face turned into dejection. But I thought once you would see the place you would be happy with it. No. I have a specific budget. Also, I would appreciate it if you would not waste my time and take me to the relevant places. I know you are trying to sell me a more expensive house so you can get more commission. If you dont have any houses within my budget then tell me now. Moyuk always lost his temper when it came to money matters. It was in his DNA to protect his money. Sorry Sir. I have such places as well. Just that they are small squatty places where students stay. But if you insist Just show them to me !. Moyuk curbed urges of slapping him. The day moved on. The broker unlocked one place after another. They were either too small or too dirty. Too noisy or too expensive. Some didnt even have a parking space for Moyuks car. Six hours passed. Moyuk had been taken to eight places by the broker. The June heat had also started taking its toll. Both of them knew this was not going anywhere. However, Moyuk was strong on his resolve. He would not pay more. You only have to look hard and long enough to find the right bargain. He used to preach that to everybody. Finally, the broker gave in. Thats it Sir. Thats the last of the places I had with me. I told you in the beginning only that you would not like any of them. And thats all youll get in your budget.

Moyuk knew pressure tactics too well. Years of being in sales had taught him to persevere. Fine. I had a feeling you were useless. Whats more is that you have ended up wasting almost my whole day. I had to move tomorrow. Do remember that I will give this feedback to everybody else at the bank. The broker did not even try to establish eye contact. Just drop me back to the metro station. Moyuk told him coldly while looking the other way. The two got back into the car and started the long-quiet drive back to the metro station. Moyuk didnt feel like talking to the broker as he knew hed only end up picking a fight with him if he did. A few minutes away from the station, the broker finally broke the silence. I just remembered sir. There is this one more place. Im not too sure if it is taken now or not. But I think itll fit your budget and your requirements. Its just that the building is quite old. Would you like me to check ?. Moyuk sighed heavily. Well youve anyways wasted most of my day. I suppose one last would not really hurt. But make it quick. He watched as the broker took out his phone and spoke. Moyuk thought he got off the call a little too early than he would have expected. its available Sir, and its not too far from here. Fantastic, lets go check it out. Moyuk said as he smiled to himself. You just have to look hard and long enough for the right bargain. The two reached a nice peaceful colony which was lined around a big square park. A step into the colony and it looked like all businessmen and professionals lived there who would reach home in the evenings and keep to their lives on the weekends. Moyuk started getting a good feeling about the place. He looked to his left as the broker stopped the car in front of a two floor house, shorter than the newer three-four storied houses which were built all around. A staircase to the right of the house led upstairs to the first floor. The dust clogging the mesh in the doors made it evident that both the floors were un-inhabited. The place is actually owned by this family who are now settled in the United States. They come back maybe once a year and stay on the ground floor. The first floor is empty. The broker looked uneasily at his watch. Can we hurry up a little sir ? I am getting late for this second client I was supposed to meet.

You have some nerve telling me to hurry up after wasting my whole day. Show me around. Moyuk smiled as he followed the broker in the stairs. He sensed victory over the greedy broker community. The door to the house opened into a hallway, three feet wide and about thirty feet long. There were four doors in the hallway, two on each side. The air in the house felt cold and stale. Its a two bedroom flat sir. First door on your left is the living room and on the right is the toilet-bathroom. The second door on the left is the kitchen and on the right is the bedroom. You can have a look. Moyuk checked the toilet-bathroom which looked satisfactorily big and equipped. He came back out into the hallway as the broker had moved out into the stairs and was speaking to what sounded like another client. He then walked into the living room which was well furnished with couches and a television. He opened the door in the living room which led to the balcony. The branches of the big tree in front of the house almost touched and rested on the railing of the balcony. He thought it gave a cozy-private effect to the balcony. Next, he moved to the kitchen which seemed sufficient for the basic cooking he used to do on his own. Finally, he walked into the bedroom. It was a regular sized bedroom with a double bed and a television on the wall facing it. He opened the cupboards to check for storage space. Standing there, he felt a sense of peace and calm he wanted in his house. Just perfect. He opened the other door in the bedroom which led to a narrow rusted-iron staircase which led downstairs into a small garden which was evidently at the backside of the ground floor. The grass was long and wild. He concluded there was no caretaker for the house. He came out into the hallway to find the broker still standing in the staircase and talking on the phone with somebody. He tapped him on his shoulder and signalled for them to descend. So Sir ? What do you say ? I like the place. How much is the rent ? Moyuk sensed a closure in the deal. The landlords have quoted twelve thousand sir. But Im sure theyll settle for ten. After all, they are settled in the US now earning in dollars. What is a few thousands in Indian rupees to them ? The broker wiped the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. Perfect. Bring the papers tomorrow and get the house cleaned, Ill move in around afternoon. Lets go now. ---

The next day was a long hectic day for Moyuk - Packing. Moving. Monitoring careless packers and movers so they dont break any fragile stuff. Haggling with the transporters for price. Setting everything in their rightful places. Finishing the paperwork with the broker at his office. Moyuk was completely spent by the end of the day. He felt exhausted, both physically and mentally. He felt happy also, about the job, about the house, about his life. He went to sleep carrying a sense of satisfaction and excitement for the life that lay ahead of him. --The next three weeks were very hectic for Moyuk. Taking over a whole branch with its operations and employees is not easy work. He spent those extra hours in office to come up to speed with the business and the dynamics. He reminded himself that it was hardwork which had got him so far in the first place and hence must continue. His girlfriend, Alka, came home a couple of times especially on the weekends and they shared some intimate moments. --Tuesday afternoon, Moyuk sat hunched on his table with the weekly reports spread out in front of him. Business seemed to be on the upswing as the number were looking very strong. He sipped his tea as he went about turning the pages. His picked up his cellphone as it vibrated and made a rattling sound on the table. His fingers automatically unlocked his phone and went to reading the new message he had received while his eyes still scanned the credit card transactions for the branch. His eyes automatically moved to towards the phone in his right hand, and froze. DEAR CUSTOMER, YOUR ACCOUNT 871xxxxx041 HAS BEEN DEBITED ON 26/03/11 BY INR 50,000.00 TOWARDS ATM CASH WITHDRAWL INTERNATIONAL DEVELOPMENT BANK He blinked repeatedly as his brain tried to take cognizance of the information his eyes were feeding it. He could not understand the numbers and kept thinking there was some misprint as he read the automated ATM message from his bank about a cash withdrawal. The message read that almost all the money that Moyuk had in his bank account had been withdrawn. He panicked as the complete realization sunk in. He reached for his wallet and panicked even more to find that his ATM debit card was missing. He immediately called up his assistant branch manager, Aarushi, and asked her to come to his cabin. He sweated profusely as he tried explaining the whole situation to her. I .. I dont understand this. I had withdrawn five thousand rupees in the morning. Ive been a banker for the last 15 years. I never make these errors. I am always very careful with these things. Theres no way I could have left my card in the machine and walked off.

Calm down Moyuk. Let me ask the security to access the video feed to the ATM. Whoever used your card would show up in the video feed and well get your money back. Calm down. Aarushi tried to calm him down as she dialled a few numbers and walked out of the cabin. Half an hour passed. Moyuk paced up and down restlessly in his small cabin. He tried very hard to remember how and why he had left the card in the machine. All he could remember was withdrawing 5,000 rupees. He felt extremely worried as he had never been so careless with money matters and cards and such a catastrophe had occurred. He felt a little relieved as his phone rang again and he saw Aarushis name flashing. Did you find out who it was ? Moyuk blurted as soon as he picked up the phone. Uhh.. why dont you come down to the monitor room ? Aaurshi said with a pause. Moyuk paced to the monitor room with about 20 screens lined up all monitoring feeds from the ATMs in the vicinity and sections of the branch office. This is very strange Moyuk. Were perplexed as to how this could happen. Have a look ... Aarushi looked a little confused as she bit her upper lip and pointed to one of the screens. Moyuk looked at the monitor as the video skipped and rewound to the time he was in the ATM. He watched as he typed at the machine and waited for the cash to come out. He picked up the cash from the machine, counted it and put it in his wallet and turned around. Aaurshi spoke as she stood on his left watching the video. So you did withdraw 5000 rupees as is registered in our records. You then apparently left your card in the machine and walked out. Eight minutes after you walked out, another man walked in and continued the transaction and withdrew 50,000 rupees from your account. Whats strange, however, is that the man, looks exactly like you ! Only in different clothes. We dont know what to make of it ! Moyuk watched in absolute horror as he saw himself on the screen again, withdrawing 50,000 rupees. He noticed the Pink Floyd t-shrit the man was wearing. Whats even more strange is that not only is that me, but the clothes hes wearing are also mine ! Aarushi and the technician turned and looked at Moyuk in shock as he kept staring at the screen which was now frozen at a frame with what looked like Moyuk in a Pink Floyd t-shirt. Two hours later Moyuk was still sitting in his chair in his office trying hard to think or remember about what had happened. It was clear to him that with the video

he could not go to the authorities for theft. He strained and replayed every bit of the days events but turned up blank. It then struck him. The Pink Floyd t-shirt. He picked up the phone and instructed Aarushi not to speak about this to anybody. Also, tell that engineer in the monitor room the same. Im going home for the day. Moyuk sweated profusely in the car despite the air conditioning on full power. He parked his car outside his house and darted upstairs. Just as he reached the main door to the hall he heard the loud beat of his heart thumping through the silence of the house. Calm down Moyuk. He told himself as he unlocked the door. Moyuk scuffled to his bedroom and opened the cupboard sifting through his clothes stacked up in three different columns. Shit ! Its not there ! Panic struck him as he started taking out the clothes and throwing them on his bed behind him one after the other. He ran to the bathroom and did the same with the dirty clothes lying in the washing machine. Where the fuck is it ?! Moyuk went back to the bedroom picking through the clothes lying on the bed one more time. He sat down. He could hear his heart beating like it was going to burst through his chest any second. He thought about when was the last time he had worn the t-shirt. Blank. Calm down Moyuk. Make some tea first and then try to think again. He walked to the kitchen and put some water on boil and sprinkled some tea leaves in it. He leaned over on the slab in the kitchen as he watched the water boil and the leaves effuse colour and fragrance into it when all of a sudden he felt as if somebody was breathing down upon on his right shoulder. An image of a man standing right behind him and staring at him with angry bloodshot eyes flashed in his mind. Instinctively he turned back. Nothing. Moyuk shook his head and tried to smile as the hair at the back of his neck tried to relax. The image of the man standing behind him flashed in his head again as he added some sugar in the now boiling water. He took out the milk from the fridge and started pouring it in a cup when all of a sudden he heard a scream. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!. It was a long painful scream. Filled with anger. Moyuk froze as he felt he was not alone in the house anymore. He thought the scream came from the bedroom. The placed the cup quietly on the kitchen slab and looked out the kitchen door towards the bedroom door.

He realized how quiet the house was. There was no sound at all, not even the sound of a car or motorcycle from the road outside. His legs felt heavy as he started walking slowly towards the bedroom. He felt like his every move, every action was being watched. He held grabbed the door frame with his right fist and took a deep breath as he walked into the room. Nothing. He felt extremely exposed, as if somebody would tap him at his shoulder from behind. He tried not to think about the image of the man with the bloodshot eyes. Its just the nerves. He tried to reason. He walked towards the other door in the bedroom, the one that led to the garden downstairs. It was locked from the inside. He had never opened the door since he had moved in. He felt a sigh of relief and opened it. He took a step on the rusty staircase and a mountain of fear came crashing down upon him as he froze and looked down in absolute shock. There it was, his Pink Floyd t-shirt, lying spread out in the garden. It was shredded into pieces. **** OK STOP! What? Come on baby... you cant stop me right in the middle of it! No! Im too scared... you cant do this to me! Shruti jumped off the bed and sat on the chair adjacent to it. She stretched out and picked up the pack of smokes on the side-table next to the bed and lit one up. She took a deep drag, and then slowly exhaled the smoke, using the last bit of the spent smoke to make perfectly circular smoke rings. Wow! You have to teach me how you do that. Fuck off!, said Shruti, ignoring Gopals outstretched hand which beckoned for the pack of smokes. Im not teaching you anything, and youre certainly not bumming any cigarettes off me, especially after nearly scaring me to death. Scaring you to death!?, Gopal imitated Shruti in an exaggerated manner, prompting her to reach out and slap his knee. Shruti that was just a story! How can a simple story scare you to death? For one, it is based in the same bloody house were in right now that too alone! On top of that, you said its a true story! Gopal snatched the cigarette out of Shrutis hand, and took a long drag. Shruti... its just a story yaar! I said its real just to give it a touch of authenticity. Theres no guy called Moyuk who lived in this house.

Then why did you say so? Cause thats how ghost stories are right? Theyre all the more spooky if theyre set in the same place as the story-teller. Thats why every time you go to an old palace or fort, the guide will take you to a specific room and tell you about the ghost of the long-dead beautiful queen who lived there and who still haunts the palace. Its for effect! Now let me finish! NO! protested Shruti, and got up to leave the room. Where are you going? I need something to drink... you have something? There must be some Fanta in the fridge... get some for me too! Gopal leaned back and pulled in another drag. He was quite pleased with the way he had cooked up the story, even though he had no idea where he would have taken it had Shruti allowed him to continue. He could hear her rummaging the cupboard for glasses. I dont really get it Shruti. Gopal called out to her, What is it about Ghost stories that scares you? I mean... theyre all the same. Some evil spirit, or some tortured soul seeking peace or closure. Theyre so damn predictable all the time, so whats so scary about them anyway? The scary thing is Gopal.... Gopal jumped. He turned to his left and saw Shruti sitting next to him, holding out the glass of Fanta. She seemed unperturbed by him getting startled. When did she come back into the room. Ive been facing the door all this while. I didnt see her walk in. Do you want this or not Gopal? Y ...yeah... of course! stammered Gopal and took the glass. Anyway, it isnt the stupid idea of spirits or ghosts or monsters thats scary. I can deal with those just fine. Its the whole uncertainty... the whole... how do I put it?... the whole looking over your shoulder bit. Everything seems in place, and then all of sudden something moves behind you. I see that, or imagine that, and I end up looking over my shoulder for a long time even after the story is done. That is the scary part. Shruti continued to stare into Gopals eyes, unblinkingly. Gopal felt queasy. Something wasnt right. He was still trying to figure when exactly Shruti entered the room when all of a sudden, he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Hey! What was that?? yelled Gopal What?

I just saw someone move across the corridor outside the room. Now whos getting spooked? Shruti! Im serious... it could be a burglar! Gopal... youre scaring me! Listen... stay here. Ill just check and come. Gopal.... Shruti... Im sure I saw something. Maybe itll be nothing... but let me just check all right. Gopal got out of his bed and moved slowly and cautiously out into the corridor. The movement had been towards the living room and the bathroom. He could see that the bathroom door was latched shut from the outside, but the living room door was open. Gopal tip-toed towards the living room. He could hear his heart beating. The bastard might jump at me as soon as I enter the door. Ok... Gopal... calm down. Step one, move your hand quickly to the wall on the left and switch on the light. And if someones really there... well... those kick boxing lessons are bound to come in handy sometime. He thought about his kick boxing classes and felt braver. He moved to the entrance, and composed himself to spring the surprise. Gopal took a deep breath, and made his move. He turned on the light instantly, and got ready to attack. There was no one there. Gopal let out a sigh of relief. Just to be sure, he checked behind the sofa and the television. He heard a soft cough behind it, as if the person who coughed was standing right behind him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and Gopal whirled around. Shruti was standing at the door, staring at him calmly, as if lost in the sight of him. Gopal. There wasnt any panic or urgency in her voice, but something wasnt quite right. She had spoken in a flat monotone which was quite unlike her, and she continued to look him right in the eyes without blinking. What Shruti? Come with me. With that, she moved towards the bedroom. Gopal followed her. The other door in the bedroom was open. Gopal looked at Shruti and raised his eyebrow. Look outside.

The same flat tone. As Gopal walked across Shruti, he noticed how her eyes never left his. He stepped outside on the rusty staircase and saw something that made him stop in his tracks and knocked the wind out of him. A Pink Floyd T-Shirt lay in the grass. It fluttered gently with the wind. Gopal could see that the front was shredded to pieces. Gopal. The same voice. Dull. Monotonous. Lifeless. All of a sudden, Gopal did not want to turn around. ***** Bull-fuckin-shit! Anirudh, Prakash, Jerry and Kunal were leaning forward on the boundary wall of the garden. The grass had grown to almost knee height. They could see a dirty old T shirt lying in the middle of the park. The front was shredded. At the far end, a flight of rusty old stairs led to the house on the first floor. They had stepped out to play some Cricket, but it was too goddamned hot. They were leaning against the wall and contemplating whose house they should go to. A visit to Jerrys house seemed most lucrative, considering he had just discovered the location of his Dads stash of Playboy magazines. They were almost getting ready to leave when Anirudh noticed which house they were next to and decided to tell them the story. Im not buying it! said Kunal. Its true dude! protested Anirudh. So let me get this straight. One night, the guy who used to live here was telling his girlfriend a true story about how the previous tenant of the house was haunted. And then the couple got attacked by the ghost who haunts the house. Yes. Why do you think no one lives here? Because this house is haunted. Cmon dude! Thats the problem with people these days... they see a house, or a building, or anything thats been abandoned for a while, and they decide to make a ghost story out of it. Give it a rest. Im not saying every abandoned house is haunted. But there are some pretty strange stories floating about this one. Go to the RWA office and youll see a notice that this house, even the garden, is strictly off-limits. Oh yeah? Well, watch this.

Kunal hauled himself over the wall, and jumped on to the other side. His friends, shocked at this sudden move, stepped back. Come on guys! said Kunal in an exasperated tone, Look... Im right here! Do you see any paranormal activity? Dont be scared you dickheads... besides ghosts dont attack during the day. Kunal, Prakash spoke for the first time in a while, I dont care whether this house is haunted or not. But please come out. I dont like this. Look around... theres absolutely no one here in case something happens? In case what happens?, shouted Kunal. He was very angry at his friends for being so unbelievably daft. There. Are. No. Ghosts. People just like haunted house stories and make them up for every house that hasnt been lived in for a while. And you guys are stupid fucks to believe them. There could be snakes in there. suggested Jerry. You know, Jerry, that actually makes sense. But just to teach these two a valuable lesson, Im gonna go down to the centre of the garden and bring back the infamous Pink Floyd T-Shirt. NO! Dont do that., moaned Anirudh. Kunal turned around and began walking towards the T-shirt. He couldnt believe how unbelievably stupid his friends had turned out to be. Whats with the infatuation with Ghost stories? Why cant someone let Ghosts live a little and go to more lively places. Like a nightclub, or a bowling alley, or a fucking mall. People just like to sit around fireplaces in the dead of the night and talk about ghosts in the abandoned wings of their colleges, or a forgotten construction site, or a lonely highway, or in this case, an empty house. His train of thought was broken by a soft cough behind him. Kunal turned around to see if any of his friends had finally grown some balls and followed him in. They were all still hanging on the other side of the wall. None of them seemed to be breathing. Gutless fucks. Dismissing the cough as a figment of his imagination, Kunal continued on towards the t-shirt. He noticed for the first time how quiet it had become. He could hear himself breathing. Kunal bent down to pick up the T-shirt. Had it not been shredded, it would have been a pretty cool T shirt to have. He could see that the front of the T-shirt had been the album cover of Wish you were here. Just as began to pick up the Tshirt, a drop of rain fell onto it. Funny... there are no clouds. Kunal looked closer and saw that it wasnt water at all. It was red in colour. Just then, another drop fell onto the back of his hand.

He looked up, and saw a body hanging right above him. Kunal yelled as he tried to get away, and fell over backward. Where did this body come from? And this tree? What the fuck is going on? Before Kunal could register these thoughts, he realised to his horror that the body which had appeared out of thin air was his own. Its neck was suspended from a noose, and its wrists were slashed and dripping blood. What the fuck guys? He shouted. Kunal turned around, only to see that his friends werent there anymore. He turned back to look at the body (his body) hanging from the tree. All of a sudden, it opened its eyes. Kunal opened his mouth to scream. **** It was great weather for a midsummer night. Mayank had stepped out for a smoke, making the excuse of needing a walk because of the excessive heat inside the house. There had been no electricity for four hours, which felt like salt over his wounds. He was already despondent about the fact that his room was going to be occupied by some distant relatives from out of town for three days. And they talked so much. Even now, after exhausting all the possibilities of the bright future of some distant cousin who had snagged a nifty promotion to a reputed bank in Gurgaon, they had turned to their supposed paranormal experiences for the lack of anything better to talk about . Its funny how everyone likes telling ghost stories in situations which are most conducive to ghosts. In dark houses, or a fireplace in lonely woods, or a deserted highway. Almost as if they are wishing for trouble. Mayanks iPod was belting out tracks from Pink Floyd. They went very well with the weather. As Mayank pulled a drag, he turned his head to the left. Aah. The Haunted house and its garden. Maybe I should send all those guys here. His Dad had been just regaling his wide-eyed relatives with the story of this haunted house, and how four boys had disappeared some months back. They had been last scene outside this house. Mayank had chuckled at that. He remembered how his father had always told him to stay away from that house. Everytime it had been a different story, once about some guy who was with his fiance in the house, another time about an unsuspecting tenant who got assailed by whatever it was that haunted the house. Mayank never really gave it a thought. Tonight, partly due to all the conversation in the house and partly because he wanted to delay going back as much as he

could, he came to a halt and turned to face the house, though from a respectable distance. Not that he believed in ghosts, but who knows for sure? He thought about all the stories he had heard? What if the guy and girl had just run away due to some family pressure? What if those boys had gotten in the company of the wrong crowd? What if the bank manager had done some major fraud? Sometimes, its just easier to blame everything on ghosts and move on with life, thought Mayank. All of a sudden, he heard a gentle cough behind him. The hair on the back of his head moved, as if the person who had coughed was standing right behind him. Mayank froze in his tracks, too afraid to turn around. And then it dawned on to him. Mayank began to laugh, and turned around. As expected, there was no one there. He pulled out his iPod to check the song. He was right... it was Wish you were here. He remembered how there is a cough at the 26th second of the song by David Gilmour. And the breeze had chipped in to complete his own paranormal experience. Mayank continued walking towards home. **** In the gentle wind, the T-shirt slowly, almost caressingly turned around to reveal its backside, which had the lyrics from the titular song of the album.

Were just two souls swimming in a fish bowl Year after year Running over the same old ground. What have you found? The same old fears Wish you were here.

The wind sighed for one last time, before coming to rest.

THE END