"The Mysterious Aunty Next Door: A Cricket Game Led Me to Her Dark Secret"

Every evening when we lived in Hasilpur, we would play cricket on a vacant patch of land close to our home. Faiza Aunty's house was just across from the site. It had only been a few days since her family moved in. We had only seen her and her hubby thus far. Nobody dared to inquire, and no one knew if her family included any other members. Aunty was a recluse who shunned social situations. She was known for being strict, and she never gave back a cricket ball that fell into her yard. Rather, she would emerge, furious and grimacing, chastising us for upsetting her tranquility.

AWe devised a rule after losing too many balls in her yard: the person whose ball ended up at Aunty's house would have to purchase a new one. We started to be more cautious, but excitement frequently won over because cricket is cricket. I was hitting one evening when I became too excited after a few loose balls. As luck would have it, the ball flew through the air and landed squarely in Aunty's yard.

My pals started putting pressure on me to get a new ball right away. We had already terminated our credit with our local merchant, and I had not a single dime to my name. I was so desperate that I made the unimaginable decision to go to Faiza Aunty's house and request the return of the ball.

My hands shaking, I pressed the doorbell. With her characteristic grim attitude, she opened the door.

"What do you desire?" she questioned, maintaining her razor-sharp tone.

I plucked up the bravery to tell her that our ball had ended up in her yard. I put on my most miserable face and looked at the floor, thinking that maybe she would feel sorry for me. I was surprised to see Aunty soften.

With a somewhat more inquisitive tone than before, she questioned, "Why don't you have any money to buy a new one?"

I revealed the truth, taken aback, saying, "I spent it all on a gift for my girlfriend's birthday."

Aunty gave me a startled look, but I noticed a smile for the first time.

With a hint of humor, she remarked, "Oh, so that's how it is." After going inside, she came out carrying the ball. If I hadn't returned it, how would you have handled the situation?

I gave a sheepish smile.I had never heard her voice so softly, but she said, "You were out for quite a while."That decision was taken by the squad.

Half-amused, half-annoyed, she shook her head. She whispered, "Well, well," and gave me the ball.

I was the only person permitted to get a ball out of her yard after that day. She always gave the ball to me alone. When I returned to her house one evening to get the ball again, I saw that she appeared abnormally upset.

"Aunty, is everything okay?" I enquired.

Pale on her face, she looked up. "My mother's condition unexpectedly deteriorated. She is out of medication.

I offered to go get the medication without really thinking. With a tight voice, she immediately jotted down the name and gave it to me. "Please, please, please, get it right away."

I sprinted like the wind, got the medication at the convenience store, and came racing back. After taking the medication, Aunty rushed inside. I should wait in the drawing room, she said. I flopped onto the couch to let the fan's breeze calm me down because I was hot and sweaty. It wasn't until I woke up and saw Aunty seated opposite me and grinning that I realized I had fallen asleep.

.

She continued, "You were out for quite a while," in a voice I had never heard so gently before.

I grinned back, but as I looked down, I saw something awkward: because I was so exhausted, my shirt had ridden up and my jeans had gotten loose. I hurriedly straightened out of panic, but Aunty simply laughed.

"Don't worry," she said in a lighthearted manner. "You've spent the entire day rushing about. It takes place."

There was something odd in the way she was staring at me, so I laughed awkwardly. Her stare remained, less admonishing and more inquisitive than before. I accepted her offer of a glass of chilled sherbet.

Completely approved.

She leaned closer and met my eyes as I took a sip. "Are you still anxious in my presence, don't you?" she teased.

I gave a nod. "Yes, Aunty, you’re... intimidating."

She laughed once more, but not harshly this time. It felt cozy, almost welcoming. "Don't fear me at all. Yes, we are pals, right?

Something had changed, and I wasn't sure how to react. Now, the woman who never gave our balls back and refused to let anyone into her life seemed almost... kind. And the longer she spoke, the less fear I felt for her.

I couldn't escape the impression that Aunty was far more nuanced than I had ever imagined when I left her house that evening, the ball in hand.