The Neighbor Across: A Tale of Misunderstandings

The Neighbor Across: A Tale of Misunderstandings

:Khan

It was a scorching summer afternoon, and the sun blazed relentlessly over the rooftops. The heat was so intense that people were avoiding stepping outside, keeping their doors and windows tightly shut. The sudden power outage made the situation even worse. Those who had generators or UPS systems were comfortable, while the unfortunate ones, without such facilities, were sweating under the relentless sun.

I was hurriedly finishing my chores in the kitchen. Our maid, Nazira, was busy cleaning, and my children had gone to school while my husband was at the office. That left me alone at home.

“Baji, did you hear anything?” Nazira’s voice startled me from behind. I turned around, slightly annoyed but curious.

“What is it?” I asked, resuming adding salt to the rice.

“Well, the woman who just moved into the flat across from you… she’s… unusual,” Nazira said, leaving the suspense hanging in the air.

I raised an eyebrow. “Unusual how?”

Nazira whispered, “She doesn’t talk to anyone. She doesn’t meet anyone.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Nazira, you jump to conclusions too quickly. She’s only been here for a couple of days. Maybe she’s just a private person. That doesn’t make her crazy. And besides, people like her exist—some prefer solitude.”

Nazira looked concerned. “No, Baji, I’m not the only one who thinks so… Farid’s family, where I also work, said the same thing. I thought you should know because you’re often alone, and she lives right across from you.”

I handed her a glass of Tang to ease her nerves. She gulped it down and left. I chuckled, shaking my head at her overactive imagination, and returned to preparing the biryani. Soon, my children, Shaza and Ayaan, came home.

“Assalam-o-Alaikum, Ammi!” they greeted loudly.

“Wa-Alaikum-Salaam, children. Go change your clothes quickly and have some juice while I finish setting the table,” I said.

As they washed up and sat at the table, Ayaan asked curiously, “Ammi, the lady across from us… is she crazy?”

I was surprised. “Who told you that?”

“All the kids in our building,” he replied confidently. “They say she talks to herself all the time.”

I reassured them, “Children, that’s not true. She just lives alone and doesn’t know anyone yet. That’s why she keeps to herself. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

Shaza, my twelve-year-old, spoke up wisely, “Ammi, maybe you should visit her. She’s alone, and it might be nice to meet her.”

Her words touched my heart. “You’re right, Shaza. I’ll go and take her a plate of biryani.”

I quickly packed a plate and, covering my head with a scarf, walked to her flat. I knocked lightly, listening for any signs of life. At first, there was silence, then footsteps approached. The door opened, revealing a woman around forty with disheveled hair and an unkempt appearance. She looked at me curiously while still talking on the phone.

I greeted her and offered the biryani. “I live right across from you and thought I’d come say hello.”

For the first time, she smiled. “Oh, thank you! Please come in,” she said warmly, despite still holding the phone.

Her voice and manner revealed a well-educated, polite woman. I silently cursed those who had spread false rumors about her.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but my children are alone at home. I’ll visit again soon,” I explained and returned home.

When I came back, my children were eager to know about her. I reassured them, “She’s a lovely lady. I’ll visit properly when I have time.”

A week later, I was carrying groceries when I saw her again, talking animatedly on her phone and walking just ahead of me. I overheard her conversation: she was preparing for her fiancé and his mother to visit, discussing menu plans for the evening, joking about what to cook, and what dessert to serve.

I followed her to her flat and greeted her. She looked pleasantly surprised and invited me in. She wore a bright red outfit with bold makeup, clearly excited about the day. I complimented her, and she shyly thanked me before leading me to the living room.

“I’m so happy you came. Please meet my fiancé, Adil, and my mother-in-law,” she said.

I looked at the empty couch, confused. No one was there. My voice caught in my throat.

She laughed, noticing my surprise, and explained, “Oh, I forgot! They’re in the other room. I’m such a silly one.”

She then casually left to get drinks, leaving her phone on the table. That’s when I noticed—her phone was a dummy! All this while, she had been pretending to talk to someone on it.

The woman in front of me, once rumored to be “crazy” by neighbors and even my own maid, was intelligent, kind, and full of life. She had merely been misunderstood.

I realized how quickly we judge others and how loneliness or privacy can be mistaken for eccentricity. Meeting her taught me a valuable lesson: never believe rumors, and always approach people with an open heart.