A Mystery To Be Solved

Prologue

A little girl entered the park gates, followed by a young couple.

"Mom! Dad! Why don't I have any grandparents?" asked the ten-year-old girl, kicking stones out of her way on the footpath.

Her mother raised her eyebrows, "Of course you have them. Who do you think sends you gifts by parcel every year on your birthday?"

"Then why don't they ever come home? I also want to play with my grandfather like her," she pointed with her index finger at a small girl on the swings, holding bright pink cotton candy while a smiling elderly man pushed her swing from behind.

"Come on, I know you just want that cotton candy now, don't you?" her father tickled her little waist and she laughed. "No! Stop!"

"Not until you tell me which colour you want!" he teased.

The girl ran on ahead on the grass to escape the tickle attack. "I want all of them." She crossed her arms.

"Your wish is our command, my dear," said her mother, enveloping her in a tight hug.

***

It was the afternoon of her eleventh birthday. The doorbell rang and she ran to open it. It was a delivery boy, holding a big box in his hands. "Parcel, ma'am, for Ms. Aisha Khan." He said. "Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks." She said. But how did this man know it was her birthday? It was a question she had pondered on for quite a few years now whenever this birthday ritual occurred. She was just going to ask when her mother came hurrying to the door. "Oh, thank you so much!" she took the box and kept it on the table in front of the sofa. "Well, don't you want to open it?"

"Yes, but—"

"Go on then! I'm as excited as you are!" her mother chirped. "Danish!" she called out to her husband. "Aisha's gift is here!"

He emerged from the study, grinning, and seated himself on the sofa. "What are we waiting for, then?"

Aisha tore open the carefully wrapped gifting paper and removed the lid. Lying inside was a giant, brand new, pink teddy bear with brown eyes. "Wow! How did dada-dadi know I wanted this? It's the same one we saw in that new toy shop in the mall, Dad!"

"Really? I don't remember. Maybe it was a lucky guess! Now, Indu, what time are her friends arriving?"

Her mother answered and they both began discussing about the preparations for the grand party in the evening.

But Aisha was deep in thought. Her grandparents never once visited her, never called or sent a letter. She hadn't even heard her parents talking to them. In fact, they were never mentioned at home. Only a framed photograph of them was kept in her mother's study, and they were relatively young in it, not at all like the elderly man she had seen in the park last year, or like any other grandparent who came to school to drop or pick up a grandchild studying there. That photo was the only real proof of their existence that she had, and of course these yearly gifts.

So how did they know her likes and dislikes so well? She recounted the past years' experiences—every time they had known exactly what she wanted for her birthday. It seemed too good to be true. Wait...what if it was her parents themselves who made the shops send these parcels? Yes, that could be true. That must be true. She had to find out. There was only one way she could think of.

Seeing her parents had moved to the kitchen, still busy in conversation, she made her way slowly and stealthily to her father's study. Once inside, she closed the door softly and went to his desk. She knew all the bills were kept in one of its drawers. She pulled it out and began rummaging through the contents, taking care not to displace anything. Soon, she came to a receipt from the new toy shop. Pulling it out with bated breath, she saw that the item purchased was 'Teddy Bear Soft Toy', for two thousand rupees. The date was that of exactly a week ago.

Tears came into her eyes. Why would her parents lie to her about a stupid teddy bear? Why couldn't they tell her the truth about her grandparents, no matter how horrible it was?

Suddenly she heard her father's voice outside. Before she could think twice, she had hidden herself in the gap between the settee and the wall in a corner of the room. Her father came in, took a paper from the top of the desk, and went out again, shutting the door. She got up and heaved a sigh of relief, but as she was about to climb out, she noticed a small box peeking out from under the back of the sofa. She bent and pulled it out. It was labelled 'Indu' in all caps. Curious, she opened it and found a collection of small notebooks. Leafing through them, she realized it was her mother's handwriting, but curlier and, well, a bit childish. A few others, which looked even older, were actually in a different handwriting—not at all neat. Her interest was piqued. She didn't think anyone would miss this box, lying neglected as it was. Confirmed that the coast was clear, she carried it upstairs to her room.

***