MaNan OS

Tu hai ki nahi!❤

Few months back we moved to our new flat. I still remember that day as if it was yesterday.

It was my 2nd day in that flat.

I was chilling on the bean bag in my room with an unfinished "The Notebook" in one hand and a mug of coffee in another.

I looked up from my novel to admire the scenery before me. The sky was ablaze with fire of the setting sun. The trees looked like strong, black soldiers standing in an unmoving row.

I had chosen this particular room due to the attached balcony and the ravishing view from here.

A few pages into the book, I heard some noise from above my head. Probably, the upper flat residents. I ignored it and continued my novel.

But then the noise became louder. I could now decipher the song, it was some 'Eminem Rap' my brother had forced me to listen, the day before. I'm not really a great fan of rap songs. So the noise was irritating me.

The noise became even louder.

This guy/girl was trying my patience now.

I got up from my seat and went to the balcony and shouted "Hey! Lower down the volume. You are disturbing the neighbours."

But nobody replied rather the noise increased.

Now it was getting beyond limits.

I marched into my room, tore a paper from my rough notebook and wrote,

"PLEASE STOP MAKING NOISE. IT IS DISTURBING THE NEIGHBOURS."

Picked up a smiley stress ball, wrapped it in the paper and threw it to the balcony upstairs. I did a little happy dance when the ball successfully landed there.

The noise then stopped.

I smirked in victory and went back to my room. As soon as I seated myself on the bean bag, the same ball fell back into my balcony. But this time with a yellow sticky note on it.

I quickly went and picked up the ball to see the note. It read

"IT'S NOT NOISE. IT'S CALLED MUSIC."

This irked me. I grabbed another sheet, wrote

"WELL, THEN YOUR TASTE IN MUSIC SUCKS."

And lobbed it back.

Few seconds later the ball fell with another sticky note saying,

"ATLEAST IT'S BETTER THAN YOUR HOPELESS ROMANTIC NOVELS."

What! How does this person know that I like romantic books?

Beads of sweat stood out on my forehead.

Was this some stalker? Or a serial killer?

Oh My Holy Son of the Wind God!

What if it's a ghost!?

No no no no. Shit! I'm too young to die.

Okay. Calm down. I took deep breaths and with trembling hands wrote,

"HOW DO YOU KNOW I LIKE ROMANTIC BOOKS? ARE YOU A STALKER?"

And threw it up.

No reply came. With every passing minute my heartbeat increased.

A few moments later the ball fell with a note,

"GEEZ. I DON'T STALK HOPELESS ROMANTICS. AND UMM...I KIND OF MIGHT HAVE LISTENED TO YOUR CONVO WITH, I SUPPOSE, YOUR BROTHER, LAST NIGHT."

I sighed in relief.