Fiction: An aspiring quantum physicist, Sumi, finds that life in Shantinagar is just as mysterious

Word of the missing plate spread quickly and later that evening, Maya and Mrs Bansal came over for chai.

Unlike the matchbox-like, three-storeyed faculty building of Sumi’s parents’ house, houses in Shantinagar took their space. They were laid out in rows separated by narrow alleys, with their backs to each other. The Kapoor house was the first in the lane. Their next-door neighbours, at number two, were the Bansals, owners of the local grocery store. Right behind the Kapoor house was number seven which belonged to Maya. Sometimes Sumi would be staring outside the kitchen window lost in thought and find herself looking straight into Maya’s kitchen.

Mahima, Maya and Mrs Bansal were like sisters. They spoke to one another on the phone every day around noon, with such punctuality that Mr Kapoor claimed to set his watch to when the phone rang. They took turns meeting at one of their homes every week, to confabulate on any matter that may have slipped through calls.

Mrs Bansal had fair skin and every passing year deposited a layer of prosperity around her middle. Her hair was knotted in a careless bun and she smelled of soap. Not of any particular soap, but the clean...

Read more