Shaahid stepped inside his room only to almost collapse in shock.

What even?
The entire room had turned upside down.

Each and every furniture was glowing. The floor was scrubbed so well that one could see his face in it.
The noisy bed, though yet noisy, looked like a white fairy with milky linen spread on it.

His jaw dropped, he stood with his eyes popping out and he vigorously scratching his stubble.

Someone coughed from behind.
He turned immediately to find the braid swayer standing at the door, her legs crossed, her body supported against the wall, and her lips displaying a naughty smile.

" So it's you who's on a spree to impress me. Good enough. At least Saajid bhai's money will bear some fruit. " , Shaahid was going to drop hurriedly on the bed, but checked instantly and landed slowly to prevent another earthquake. He threw his flippers on the sides.

Sophia watched him carefully.
" The thing is, I cannot sleep in dirty rooms. Since I've gotta spend the night here, I've my own reasons to clean it up. And excuse me, I need to do nothing to impress men. They die for me eventually. "

" I see. Fine then. Bring in your bedrolls and lay on the ground. Keep the door open so that I can escape if you snor. " , Shaahid lay straight on the bed now, staring at the ceiling.

" What the hell? Why will I sleep on the ground with such a huge bed? " , Sophia shrugged. Still swaying her braid.

" Because this ain't my house. And I cannot take the blame of being characterless and thrown out by my landlords. I don't have a place to go. " , Shaahid smiled.

" Hmmph. As if they will ever come up to your room to see. They are idiots and duffers and are always into themselves. " , Sophia disappeared.

And reappeared in a split second with a bedroll that she spread on the floor.

" But Saajid bhai said you people are fond of Sakina... " , Shaahid rested his head on his hand and turned sideways on the bed looking at Sophia.

" Why didn't you have dinner? " , she rather chose to divert and began tidying her temporary bed.

" I had. Outside. Where do you normally sleep? "

" Downstairs. By the way, my sleeping posture is terrible. So if my saree doesn't cover me up properly in the night, control your hormones. " , Sophia winked.

Shaahid rolled his eyes.
" Then why the fuck are you risking yourself to getting molested by laying down in the room of a stranger? "

" Ophho! It's my moral duty to let you know more about the people out here. For that we need time together, isn't it? " , she jumped up and closed the door, latching it.

" Oh no.... " , Shaahid lay straight now, covering his face with his palm. He could not terribly misbehave with anyone, hence he always chose to not get affected much.

Sophia sat on the bed and stared at him.
" Listen. We all love Sakina apa. But the thing is, she hardly reciprocates. She is completely into the ghost of her dead boyfriend. "

Shaahid sprang and turned to her, inquisitively.
" Ghost? How do you know? "

" Arrey, he comes almost everyday to her. Only to her. We don't see, but it's terrible to know that a spirit visits this house daily. "

" I mean to say, how do you know it's a ghost, and not her imagination? "

Sophia stared at him for sometime, engrossed in deep thoughts.
" Errm... Everybody says so... "

" Does the door bell ring when he comes? "

" Umm... No...
Everyday at 5:30, Sakina apa herself opens the door and welcomes him, just as she did when he was alive. "

" Does the contour of the sheets of the bed/sofa change when he sits on them? "

" Huh... Never noticed anything as such... "

" Do the doors swing open themselves when he comes or leaves? "

" Nah... Never... Aapa does everything, from opening the door.. to walking along with him till the corner of the street.. "

" Then whom do you call idiots and duffers when you are the biggest on earth? " , Shaahid again turned to lay straight.

Sophia was hurt. She glared at him.
" Hello, I did not suggest this ghost concept. I only heard. "

" ...and believed. But your so called brainless Saajid bhai never did.
The next time you call someone idiot, take some online IQ tests for yourself first. " , Shaahid turned the other side.

" Shut up!!

Your Saajid bhai doesn't believe in the ghost's existence because he hated the man when he was alive. Salman Siddiqui sir was terribly handsome and smart. This dumb miser could not bear his aura as a 'jamaai'.

I sometimes believe that even the accident was not actually an accident. "

Shaahid did not turn, but said,
" Are you trying to make things spicier so that I listen to your bullshit and stay awake? I'm sorry. Good night. "

" Allah miya why would I even do that?
Everyone says so. "

" Just now you said it's you who believe that. "

" Of course, I believe in what they say. "

" So, do you have any other talent than listening and believing in spicy stories? "

Silence prevailed behind him. For a long time. Then he heard a loud bang on the door. He turned to find the poor girl had exited with a lot of volcano erupting in her brains. He sprang up, closed the door, and switched off the lights.

The only way to get rid of disturbers was to break their morale. Didn't mean he did not take in each of her words thoroughly.

__

At six in the morning, Fareedpur looked quite peaceful, just like how a naughty child looked adorable while sleeping.

Shaahid balanced himself while climbing up the steep broken stairs to the rooftop. His deep sleep today broke to thousand pieces when the fan above his head stopped rotating sharp at five thirty.

He sat with a heavy head cursing his fate. Then the room began to appear like a dungeon and he stormed out of it.

Saajid bhai's room seemed locked from inside. But Sakina's room was slightly open.

He pushed it the door without a tinge of hesitation, only to find the room empty with the bed sheets messed up.
She most probably was in the washroom, thinking which he took a stroll across her room.

The first thing that caught his eyes was a violin placed at a corner on a stand. He walked towards it, and picked it up.

" Havana. Wow, good taste. "

He terribly wished to play a piece at once, but controlled his desires glancing at the washroom. He put the violin back.

His eyes then caught a wall, mysteriously covered from the roof to the floor with velvet red curtains. From one of its sides hung a rope, most definitely used to pull the curtains to the sides or up.

In all probability, it was not a curtain to a window, because two huge windows already hung across the other walls.

Without wasting a moment, he pulled the rope.

The curtains slowly moved to the sides.

And Shaahid stood, with his jaw dropped in utter awe....

Shaahid now halted at the last step of the sraircase, not because he was tired, but because he heard giggles of a woman from the rooftop. He very carefully ducked his head out from the door to the roof, and watched the scene.

At a distant corner of the roof, Sakina sat on a chair, with a tea table before , and another chair diagonally opposite to hers. He could see the side of her face, she was smiling wide while sipping tea.

The chair in front, completely empty, was served another fuming cup of tea.

No one picked it up, neither did it dangle in midair, nor did its contents decrease, but Shaahid Hussain definitely caught a glimpse of Sakina conversing with the ghost of Salman Siddiqui for the first time, the terribly handsome man whose life sized portrait (in all possibilities) , remained valuably protected behind a velvet red curtain in her room.

Thus declaring, how vividly he meant to her, and would always do.