12-08-2026, 02:56 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-09-2026, 02:07 PM by Authorsunny.)
Chapter 4 – Rumours and the First Real Shift
28 August 2025 – Thursday
The lift was still broken. I was climbing the stairs with a bag of groceries when Shilpa Aunty from the second floor stopped me on the landing. She had her usual sweet smile that never reached her eyes.
“Sunny beta, your mother has become quite friendly with Azad Bhai these days, hain?”
I stopped. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just that she was standing near the gate talking to him for quite some time yesterday evening. He was laughing, she was laughing. People notice these things, you know. In a building like this, everything is seen.”
She patted my arm and went down before I could reply.
When I reached home Ma was in the kitchen corner heating oil for tadka. The whole flat smelled of mustard seeds and curry leaves. She was wearing the grey top and the jeans. The top had ridden up a little at the back while she stirred, showing a thin strip of skin above the waistband.
“Shilpa Aunty was talking,” I said while putting the groceries on the small folding table.
Ma didn’t turn. “That woman is always talking. What did she say this time?”
“She said you were standing with Azad Bhai near the gate for a long time yesterday.”
Ma switched off the flame, wiped her hands on a cloth, and finally looked at me. There was no guilt on her face. Only a mild irritation.
“I had gone to throw the garbage. He was checking something with the watchman. He asked about the bathroom tap that was dripping last week. I told him it is fine now. We spoke for five minutes. That is what she calls ‘a long time’?”
She shook her head and went back to the kadhai.
“These women have nothing in their own lives, so they watch other people’s.”
I didn’t push further. But the way she dismissed it so quickly stayed with me.
That night while she was changing behind the thin curtain I could see the outline of her body against the cloth. She had started wearing a newer bra — the straps were thinner, and when she raised her arms to pull the nighty down I saw the full heavy shape of her breasts shift under the peach fabric. The nighty settled low on her chest. She came out and sat on the bed as if nothing had been said earlier.
---
2 September 2025 – Tuesday
The bathroom tap started dripping again.
Ma called Azad Bhai herself. He sent a plumber the same evening. When the plumber left, Azad Bhai came up to check. I was home. He stood near the door, not entering fully, and spoke to Ma in a low, polite voice.
“Any other problem, just tell. No need to wait.”
Ma was wearing the olive kurti. She stood with her weight on one leg, one hand on the doorframe. The kurti pulled slightly across her chest when she nodded.
“Thank you, Azad ji. You always send someone so fast.”
He looked at me and smiled. “Your mother manages everything alone. We should help where we can.”
After he left, Ma closed the door and went straight to the kitchen to make tea. I watched her from the bed. The way she moved was lighter, almost pleased.
“He didn’t take money for the plumber,” she said while pouring.
“Why?”
“He said it is a small thing.” She handed me the cup. “Helpful man.”
I drank the tea in silence.
---
6 September 2025 – Saturday
She went for a late film again. This time it was Jawan. She left at seven-thirty wearing the black kurti, jeans, the gold chain, and small jhumkas she had taken out from the old jewellery box. The jhumkas caught the light when she turned her head.
“I’ll message when it ends,” she said.
She messaged at eleven-twenty. She reached home at eleven-fifty.
I was still awake. She walked in, removed her sandals, and stretched both arms above her head with a long sigh. The kurti lifted high enough that I saw the soft curve of her waist and the lower edge of her bra. Her stomach was still surprisingly flat for her age, but the hips flared out full and round under the jeans.
“The film was loud but entertaining,” she said, dropping onto the bed. “Shah Rukh is still the same.”
She looked at me and smiled. “You waited again.”
“Yes.”
She patted the mattress. “Come. Sit. You look tired.”
I sat. She smelled of the theatre — cold air, popcorn, and her lotion. She leaned her head on my shoulder for a moment.
“Mrs. Desai (Shilpa aunty) stared at me when I was leaving. As if I was going to some party.” Ma laughed softly. “Let her stare. I looked nice today, no?”
“You did.”
She lifted her head and looked at me properly. Her lipstick was faded but still visible. The jhumkas moved when she tilted her head.
“You’re noticing these things now,” she said, half-teasing. “My own son.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. She laughed again and got up to change.
Behind the curtain I heard the soft sound of the kurti coming off, then the jeans. For a few seconds there was only the faint outline of her in blouse and petticoat before the nighty went on.
I looked away and switched off the main light.
---
11 September 2025 – Thursday
I came home early because of a power cut at office. The flat was empty. Ma’s phone was on the folding table. I didn’t mean to look, but the screen lit up with a message when I touched it by mistake.
It was from a number saved as “Azad Ji”.
*Tap is fine now? Any other problem in the flat, tell me.*
She had replied: *All fine. Thank you for sending the man so quickly.*
There were two more messages above that from previous days. Simple things — about the common electricity bill, about a leaking pipe on the second floor. Nothing wrong. But the fact that she had saved his number and was messaging him directly sat strangely in my chest.
She came home twenty minutes later carrying a small bag of vegetables. She was wearing the grey top again. When she bent to put the bag down, the neckline fell forward and I saw the full soft upper curve of both breasts and the dark edge of her bra.
She straightened and caught me looking. She didn’t cover herself immediately. She only raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She smiled a little and went to the kitchen. “I met Azad ji downstairs. He said if the rent feels heavy any month, we can adjust. Nice of him.”
I sat down slowly.
“Adjust how?”
“I don’t know. He just said it. Maybe reduce a little, or take later. I told him we manage fine now that you are earning.”
She said it casually, but the words stayed with me the whole evening.
---
15 September 2025 – Monday
The rumour reached me again, this time from the watchman.
I was coming in at night when he said, almost as a joke, “Your mother and Azad Bhai talk a lot these days. Building people are saying all kinds of things.”
I didn’t reply.
When I told Ma, she was sitting on the bed applying lotion to her arms and neck. The peach nighty had slipped off one shoulder. Her skin looked smooth and warm under the tube light. She rubbed the lotion slowly into the soft flesh of her upper arms, then down towards her collarbones.
She listened to me without interrupting. When I finished she laughed once — short, disbelieving.
“So now talking about a dripping tap is an affair? These people are hungry for drama.”
She put the lotion bottle down and looked at me directly.
“Sunny, I talk to the milkman also. I talk to the vegetable vendor. Does that mean something is going on with them too?”
“I’m just telling you what they are saying.”
“And I’m telling you it is nonsense.” She reached for the bottle again and started applying lotion to her legs, lifting the nighty a little higher on her thighs. “Azad ji is the landlord. He owns this building. If he asks about the flat, I answer. That is all.”
She finished with her legs, smoothed the nighty back down, and came and sat next to me.
“You’re getting disturbed by these useless talks. Don’t. I know what I am doing.”
Her shoulder touched mine. The smell of the lotion was strong and sweet. When she leaned forward to pick up her phone, the nighty fell open at the neck and I saw the heavy soft shape of her breasts moving freely inside it. She had stopped wearing a bra at home in the nights.
I looked at the wall.
She noticed. A small smile touched her mouth, but she said nothing.
That night, after she fell asleep, I lay awake listening to the fan and the distant sound of a scooter in the lane. The flat felt smaller than usual. The 10-by-12 room, the tiny kitchen corner, the thin curtain, the single bathroom — everything suddenly felt too close, too full of her new clothes, her new hours, her new ease with the man downstairs.
The rumours had started.
And even though she called them nonsense, something in the way she smiled when she spoke about him told me the shift had already begun.
28 August 2025 – Thursday
The lift was still broken. I was climbing the stairs with a bag of groceries when Shilpa Aunty from the second floor stopped me on the landing. She had her usual sweet smile that never reached her eyes.
“Sunny beta, your mother has become quite friendly with Azad Bhai these days, hain?”
I stopped. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just that she was standing near the gate talking to him for quite some time yesterday evening. He was laughing, she was laughing. People notice these things, you know. In a building like this, everything is seen.”
She patted my arm and went down before I could reply.
When I reached home Ma was in the kitchen corner heating oil for tadka. The whole flat smelled of mustard seeds and curry leaves. She was wearing the grey top and the jeans. The top had ridden up a little at the back while she stirred, showing a thin strip of skin above the waistband.
“Shilpa Aunty was talking,” I said while putting the groceries on the small folding table.
Ma didn’t turn. “That woman is always talking. What did she say this time?”
“She said you were standing with Azad Bhai near the gate for a long time yesterday.”
Ma switched off the flame, wiped her hands on a cloth, and finally looked at me. There was no guilt on her face. Only a mild irritation.
“I had gone to throw the garbage. He was checking something with the watchman. He asked about the bathroom tap that was dripping last week. I told him it is fine now. We spoke for five minutes. That is what she calls ‘a long time’?”
She shook her head and went back to the kadhai.
“These women have nothing in their own lives, so they watch other people’s.”
I didn’t push further. But the way she dismissed it so quickly stayed with me.
That night while she was changing behind the thin curtain I could see the outline of her body against the cloth. She had started wearing a newer bra — the straps were thinner, and when she raised her arms to pull the nighty down I saw the full heavy shape of her breasts shift under the peach fabric. The nighty settled low on her chest. She came out and sat on the bed as if nothing had been said earlier.
---
2 September 2025 – Tuesday
The bathroom tap started dripping again.
Ma called Azad Bhai herself. He sent a plumber the same evening. When the plumber left, Azad Bhai came up to check. I was home. He stood near the door, not entering fully, and spoke to Ma in a low, polite voice.
“Any other problem, just tell. No need to wait.”
Ma was wearing the olive kurti. She stood with her weight on one leg, one hand on the doorframe. The kurti pulled slightly across her chest when she nodded.
“Thank you, Azad ji. You always send someone so fast.”
He looked at me and smiled. “Your mother manages everything alone. We should help where we can.”
After he left, Ma closed the door and went straight to the kitchen to make tea. I watched her from the bed. The way she moved was lighter, almost pleased.
“He didn’t take money for the plumber,” she said while pouring.
“Why?”
“He said it is a small thing.” She handed me the cup. “Helpful man.”
I drank the tea in silence.
---
6 September 2025 – Saturday
She went for a late film again. This time it was Jawan. She left at seven-thirty wearing the black kurti, jeans, the gold chain, and small jhumkas she had taken out from the old jewellery box. The jhumkas caught the light when she turned her head.
“I’ll message when it ends,” she said.
She messaged at eleven-twenty. She reached home at eleven-fifty.
I was still awake. She walked in, removed her sandals, and stretched both arms above her head with a long sigh. The kurti lifted high enough that I saw the soft curve of her waist and the lower edge of her bra. Her stomach was still surprisingly flat for her age, but the hips flared out full and round under the jeans.
“The film was loud but entertaining,” she said, dropping onto the bed. “Shah Rukh is still the same.”
She looked at me and smiled. “You waited again.”
“Yes.”
She patted the mattress. “Come. Sit. You look tired.”
I sat. She smelled of the theatre — cold air, popcorn, and her lotion. She leaned her head on my shoulder for a moment.
“Mrs. Desai (Shilpa aunty) stared at me when I was leaving. As if I was going to some party.” Ma laughed softly. “Let her stare. I looked nice today, no?”
“You did.”
She lifted her head and looked at me properly. Her lipstick was faded but still visible. The jhumkas moved when she tilted her head.
“You’re noticing these things now,” she said, half-teasing. “My own son.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. She laughed again and got up to change.
Behind the curtain I heard the soft sound of the kurti coming off, then the jeans. For a few seconds there was only the faint outline of her in blouse and petticoat before the nighty went on.
I looked away and switched off the main light.
---
11 September 2025 – Thursday
I came home early because of a power cut at office. The flat was empty. Ma’s phone was on the folding table. I didn’t mean to look, but the screen lit up with a message when I touched it by mistake.
It was from a number saved as “Azad Ji”.
*Tap is fine now? Any other problem in the flat, tell me.*
She had replied: *All fine. Thank you for sending the man so quickly.*
There were two more messages above that from previous days. Simple things — about the common electricity bill, about a leaking pipe on the second floor. Nothing wrong. But the fact that she had saved his number and was messaging him directly sat strangely in my chest.
She came home twenty minutes later carrying a small bag of vegetables. She was wearing the grey top again. When she bent to put the bag down, the neckline fell forward and I saw the full soft upper curve of both breasts and the dark edge of her bra.
She straightened and caught me looking. She didn’t cover herself immediately. She only raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She smiled a little and went to the kitchen. “I met Azad ji downstairs. He said if the rent feels heavy any month, we can adjust. Nice of him.”
I sat down slowly.
“Adjust how?”
“I don’t know. He just said it. Maybe reduce a little, or take later. I told him we manage fine now that you are earning.”
She said it casually, but the words stayed with me the whole evening.
---
15 September 2025 – Monday
The rumour reached me again, this time from the watchman.
I was coming in at night when he said, almost as a joke, “Your mother and Azad Bhai talk a lot these days. Building people are saying all kinds of things.”
I didn’t reply.
When I told Ma, she was sitting on the bed applying lotion to her arms and neck. The peach nighty had slipped off one shoulder. Her skin looked smooth and warm under the tube light. She rubbed the lotion slowly into the soft flesh of her upper arms, then down towards her collarbones.
She listened to me without interrupting. When I finished she laughed once — short, disbelieving.
“So now talking about a dripping tap is an affair? These people are hungry for drama.”
She put the lotion bottle down and looked at me directly.
“Sunny, I talk to the milkman also. I talk to the vegetable vendor. Does that mean something is going on with them too?”
“I’m just telling you what they are saying.”
“And I’m telling you it is nonsense.” She reached for the bottle again and started applying lotion to her legs, lifting the nighty a little higher on her thighs. “Azad ji is the landlord. He owns this building. If he asks about the flat, I answer. That is all.”
She finished with her legs, smoothed the nighty back down, and came and sat next to me.
“You’re getting disturbed by these useless talks. Don’t. I know what I am doing.”
Her shoulder touched mine. The smell of the lotion was strong and sweet. When she leaned forward to pick up her phone, the nighty fell open at the neck and I saw the heavy soft shape of her breasts moving freely inside it. She had stopped wearing a bra at home in the nights.
I looked at the wall.
She noticed. A small smile touched her mouth, but she said nothing.
That night, after she fell asleep, I lay awake listening to the fan and the distant sound of a scooter in the lane. The flat felt smaller than usual. The 10-by-12 room, the tiny kitchen corner, the thin curtain, the single bathroom — everything suddenly felt too close, too full of her new clothes, her new hours, her new ease with the man downstairs.
The rumours had started.
And even though she called them nonsense, something in the way she smiled when she spoke about him told me the shift had already begun.
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