Manorama did not normally answer calls from unknown numbers. She believed that if someone she didn’t know had something important to say to her, they would drop her a message or an email. However, there was nothing normal about today.
There was perhaps another living and breathing person on the other end of this phone call; someone who could finally bring her some solace. It was either that or this was her cue to wake up from this horrifying and bizarre dream.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘Hi, Manorama. I’m so glad you answered!’
Something about that voice made her cut the call on reflex, and she cursed herself for doing so almost as soon as she had hit the red button. This was perhaps her only chance of unravelling this mystery, and maybe worse, her only chance at human contact, and she had shut it out.
But she could have sworn that the voice at the other end was not human. It could pass off as human, as the voice of a teenage boy on the brink of cracking, but she was sure that it wasn’t really human.
She redialled the number frantically, but all she got were beeps, signalling that the network was busy. She could not believe that it felt like the end of the world, but she was sill having network problems. Manorama could almost hear Vinod mock her about her network company as he often did in that all-knowing tone of his, and that vivid memory was enough to push her off the brink.
Panic stricken, she rushed to the balcony and started screaming. She called out for Vinod and the kids and her mother; for Nima and the watchman and Bajpayee aunty, but her voice fell into the emptiness that surrounded her.
This had to be a dream. This had to be a dream.
She ran into the bathroom and splashed some water on her face, hoping that it would wake her from this nightmare. To her dismay, everything stayed the same. Deafening silence. Petrifying loneliness.
And then, just like the screeching sound of chalk on the black board surprises you and horrifies you at the same time, Manorama’s phone rang again.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘Yes, Hi Manorama. You are fine?’
‘Who are you?’ the same strange voice she’d heard before spoke. ‘You don’t know me, but I know you. I would not have called you and our paths would have probably never crossed, but under the circumstances …’
‘Who are you? And what’s going on? What circumstances?’ she shouted into the phone
‘You are going to think I am crazy, but I woke up in what I can best describe as an alternate Universe. My mother isn’t here and I can’t seem to reach her. I even tried other relatives and friends but no one is answering their phone!’ the voice said, growing hysterical. ‘And it’s not just me, it’s the streets. The streets have …’ he broke off, bursting into tears.
‘The streets are empty? And it suddenly feels like everyone has disappeared into thin air?’ she said, completing his sentence.
‘Yes! Yes,’ he said, sounding relieved, and then added, ‘And the tall buildings around my home have disappeared. Well, all except for the one I am in. There’s greenery everywhere. I don’t feel like I am in Mumbai. It’s like a hill station, with birds and trees! If it wasn’t for you, I would have thought I was in heaven. Wait, maybe we are both in heaven? Do phones exist in heaven?’ he asked.
Manorama was very close to losing her mind, but not enough to believe the boy’s panicked justification.
‘Who are you, and how did you get my number?’ she asked sternly, snapping herself out of his morbid fantasy.
‘I’m …’ He seemed to be struggling to get the words out of his mouth. ‘I am Vinod’s son.’
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