"The Tenant: A Stranger's Dairy

A Tiny Soul

(Background: Faint raindrops, steam rising from a coffee mug, and the sound of old diary pages turning.)

Narrator: After talking to her family, Shruti felt a bit lighter. Her brother’s mischief and her parents' concern had pulled her out of the silence of that old flat for a while. She looked out the window—the Mumbai rain had intensified. The glowing streetlights and the scent of rain made the atmosphere even deeper.

Shruti (Taking a deep breath): How strange... there, my brother is missing me, and here, I am reading the story of a girl for whom her brother was her entire world.

Narrator: Shruti picked up her new mug from the table and took a warm sip of coffee. The bitterness and aroma washed away her exhaustion. With trembling hands, she opened the next page of the diary.

(The Diary Entries—In the handwriting of an older Pari.)

Handwriting (Pari’s words): It was the afternoon of August 15, 2002. It had been three days since my brother entered this world. Today was the day he was going to step into our mansion for the first time. My happiness knew no bounds. I had been standing at the grand gates since morning, watching the road.

(Pleasant flashback music blends with the sound of rain.)

Narrator: Preparations were in full swing at the mansion, but five-year-old Pari’s restlessness was the highest. She kept pulling at her father’s kurta.

Pari (With innocence and stubbornness): Papa! Why are you still standing here? Go! Fetch my brother! You said he’d come home today. Go, Papa, hurry!

Papa (Smiling, picking Pari up): Oh my little doll, why so restless? Your mother will be here soon, beta. Grandma has gone to the hospital to fetch them. They must be arriving any moment.

Narrator: Just then, a car pulled up outside. Pari saw Grandma and Mom getting out. In Mom’s arms was a 'tiny angel' wrapped in cloth. Pari’s eyes sparkled. She ran to them and began her usual insistence.

Pari (Jumping with joy): Grandma! Mom! Give me my brother! I want to hold him. I told you I’d carry him. Give him to me, Mom!

Mom (Stroking Pari’s head): Oh my dear, I’ll give him to you, definitely. But it’s raining, right? Let your brother come into the room first, otherwise, the poor thing will get drenched and catch a cold.

Narrator: Pari saw that it was indeed raining hard. She didn't waste a single second. She ran inside with lightning speed and brought out a large, old umbrella. She came running back and held the umbrella over her father and her tiny brother with her small hands.

Pari (Panting but proud): Papa! Take this. Hide brother under it quickly. Save him, Papa! Not a single drop should touch him!

Narrator: Papa saw that Pari herself was getting drenched, but her entire effort was focused on keeping the umbrella over her brother. Seeing the motherly love of that little girl, the eyes of everyone in the mansion welled up.

Handwriting (Pari’s words): I saved my brother from every drop that day. I thought I would save him from every pain and every trouble just like that. But little did I know that the same rain and the same house would one day become the biggest wall between us. Diary, today when I remember that day, my heart sinks. I held that umbrella for my brother, but the very roof was snatched from over me.

(A mix of Sufi and melancholic music.)

Narrator: Shruti wanted to turn the page, but she noticed water stains—perhaps from the rain, or perhaps from Pari’s tears. Shruti set her coffee mug down and looked out the window.

Shruti (To herself): Pari saved her brother from the rain. But did that brother save Pari from the storm that was about to enter her life? What happened after that day?

(Background: Sound of rain and the warmth inside the house.)

Narrator: As everyone came inside drenched, Pari’s energy was worth watching. She ran to the bedroom and sat cross-legged on the bed with great poise. Her face held the seriousness of someone shouldering a massive responsibility.

Pari (Excitedly): Mom! We’re home now. Now give me my brother, quickly. I want to see him properly, play with him. Give him to me, Mom!

Narrator: Pari’s mother smiled and handed the tiny angel to Pari. That little child, only three days old, was looking at this new world with innocent eyes. Pari looked at him intently and burst out laughing.

Pari: You know, brother, what I’m going to call you? I’ll call you 'Rasgulla'!

(Laughter echoes in the room.)

Pari (Whispering in her brother’s ear): Are you wondering why your sister is naming you after a sweet? It’s because I love Rasgullas, and now I love you too! You are my most favorite person, that’s why you are my Rasgulla.

Narrator: Papa, Grandma, and Mom all burst into laughter. Seeing such deep and sweet love from such a young girl for her brother brought tears of joy to everyone’s eyes.

Six Months Later: The First Ritual and the Unbreakable Bond

(Festive music, the beat of a dholak, and decorations in the mansion.)

Narrator: Time flew as if it had wings. Six months passed, and today was the 'Annaprashan' (first solid food ceremony) of 'Rasgulla'—Pari’s brother. The entire mansion was decorated with flowers and lights. In these six months, Pari hadn't left her brother alone for a single moment. She was always around him like a shadow.

As the ritual was about to begin, Pari grabbed her father’s hand.

Pari (With authority): Papa! I told you before, I will be the first one to feed my brother today, not you!

Narrator: The rule there was that the head priest (Pandit Ji) would feed the baby the first morsel. As soon as the priest picked up the bowl, Pari stood in front of him like a shield.

Pari: Pandit Ji, stop! I said I would feed him first. You aren't related to him, I am his sister! I have to feed my brother.

(Silence falls in the hall, then Pandit Ji smiles.)

Pandit Ji (Humbly): Who am I to come between the selfless love of these siblings? Children are a form of God anyway, and the people of this house believe that Pari is a literal gift from God. So, let this little goddess sweeten her brother’s mouth first; I can feed him later.

Narrator: Out of both compulsion and joy, everyone had to agree to Pari’s demand. Pari lovingly fed her 'Rasgulla' his first morsel. The victorious smile on Pari’s face at that moment could move anyone to tears.

(Present Day: Shruti’s situation.)

Narrator: Shruti’s coffee had gone cold while reading the diary, but she felt a strange warmth in her heart.

Shruti (To herself): So much love. The brother whom Pari fought God for to feed first, whom she gave a name of her choice... how did that same brother and family become the cause of Pari’s ruin? The priest called her a 'gift from God,' so how did she suddenly become 'cursed' (manhoos)?

(The crowd of guests in the mansion hall, festive mood, and discussion about naming.)

Narrator: 'Rasgulla' was now six months old. After the feeding ceremony, it was time for his naming ceremony. Everyone was suggesting names they liked.

Aunt: Why not name him 'Aryan'? It sounds so royal.

Grandma: No, no, according to our lineage, 'Kuldeep' would be the best name.

Narrator: While this debate was ongoing, little Pari stepped into the center. She put her tiny hands on her waist and looked at everyone with great seriousness. There was a spark in her eyes that clearly said no one else would make this decision but her.

Pari (In a loud, clear voice): Enough! That’s it. He is my brother, my 'Rasgulla.' I will name him, and no one else will!

(Silence falls in the hall; everyone is stunned by the authority in Pari’s innocence.)

Papa (Smiling): Alright, my queen, tell us then—what name have you thought of for your brother?

Pari (Raising her head with pride): My brother’s name will be—'Shritik.' Full of knowledge and wisdom. My brother will be the smartest, that’s why this will be his name. Now, consider this name final.

Narrator: This act of Pari’s made her parents laugh once again. she was so adorable that no one dared to speak against her. Her family knew that as deep as Pari’s love was for her brother, so was her 'possessiveness'—she could not tolerate anyone else having a right over him.

Lawyer (Laughing): Well, usually parents decide the name, but here the little princess has set up her own court. So, shall I write 'Shritik' in the documents?

Papa (Smiling): Write it down, Lawyer Sahab! To go against her means inviting chaos in this house. If we don't name him according to her, she’ll cry the house down. And anyway, only Pari can give such lovely names like 'Rasgulla' and 'Shritik' to her favorite person.

Narrator: Pari walked up to her brother’s cradle with great pride and whispered in his ear—"See, Rasgulla? Now you are 'Shritik' for the whole world, but for me, you will always be my favorite person."

(Present Day: The Mumbai flat, the silence of the night, and Shruti’s realization.)

Narrator: Reading this part of the diary, a smile blossomed on Shruti’s face—one that had been missing for the past week. She began to laugh out loud. The sound of her laughter echoed in the silent room.

Shruti (Laughing, eyes shining): Oh God! Pari... you were so cute! 'Rasgulla' and 'Shritik' and that bossy attitude in front of the lawyer! I can’t believe it.

Narrator: Shruti stopped laughing and looked closely at that page of the diary. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Shruti (To herself): Is this the same girl who, on the first page of the diary, used only heavy words like sadness, loneliness, and death for herself? Where did that bold and cheerful Pari go, who would fight the whole world for her brother? How did this innocence of Pari vanish as Shritik grew up?

Narrator: Shruti took the last sip of her coffee. Her fear had now turned into curiosity. She wanted to know what 'storm' came between Shritik and Pari that turned a laughing, playing child into a living corpse.