"You mean to say, I own a house at the Garden Villa? The place where posh people live?" Raghav asked yet again to the old man whose height lost half of it for his hunched back. The old man who had not introduced his name, nodded with a toothless grin, his sliver overgrown eyebrows shield his squinting eyes.

Raghav, however, stood confused with the sudden ownership of a house let alone in the most expensive area in the city. His parents weren't from any rich family, nor did they have much money to have a house there. To his vast knowledge of twenty-six years, they never lived a life of at least a middle-class family. Raghav's family had always been struggling to have their ends meet. With so much of struggle since long and after being chased out of his rental house, the old man dropped a bombshell of the mysterious house.

The young boy was pulled back to the present by the nudge of the old man standing next to him. He handed Raghav the keys to the house and a small note with its address. "It's yours now. Go and live there. Do not complaint anymore that your grandparents had not left anything for you and that you were left to suffer."

A gush of relief washed over the old man's face soon after the keys had been handed to their rightful owner. "I have fulfilled the promise I made to you," the old man's hand reached his chest, he patted once with a glum smile. He took one last glance of the young man who seemed lost staring at the key and then he marched away.

Still in a daze, staring at the rusted key, the honk of a bus somewhere in the street snapped him out. Raghav scanned around him to find the old man. "Where did he go?" He walked a little further to the left and then to the right, looked ahead at the huge road on the other side yet there was no sign of the man.

"I hope this is not a joke." He commented to which an answer from him echoed within. You will have to check it out to know it for yourself.

***---***---***

"House number. . . 99," his speech dragged on while gapping at the huge lavish houses came one after the other as his cab cruised along the road. It's an understatement to call those buildings houses, each one looked like a palace with one-of-a-kind architecture which bubbles the expectation of what's instore for his so-called house.

He grinned, mesmerizing the lavish buildings. The road along the Garden Villa residence was another beauty to add into the list of amazingness apart from its cleanliness to the well organised residence. The huge bougainvillea trees in pink and purple generously bloomed splashing colours of vibrance against the black street and white houses. Indeed, a garden villa.

The cab came to a sudden halt, Raghav turned to his left to check the house number and to his right. None of it matched the number written on the chit, "Why did you stop here, brother?" asked Raghav to the cab driver.

"There is a roadblock ahead, sir. You might need to walk from here," replied the driver.

Barricades had been pulled to the centre of the road blocking all kind of vehicles passing the road. It looked like a small procession although he'll need to walk further to confirm the happenings. He paid the fare for his cab and swung his huge bag over his shoulder.

"Never in my dream have I ever thought I'll walk in this road . . . to my house," Raghav exuberated, thrilled to have gotten the opportunity.

"97, 98, . . ." He stood before the house he was given the key, gaping at the display of the building in front of him. Shocked beyond words, his heavy bag dropped off his shoulder.

Standing outside the orange-brown gate with holes here and there, rusted along the years, his excitement slowly diminished. In the middle of the land, stood a wooden house amidst the tall grasses grown around it. The house was as a contrast of everything around the residence. Not only did the house looked old, but it also gave away horror vibes with dead trees standing in the foreground of the tiny building.

"This is the house I own?" He questioned, scrunching his face in disbelief as he looked around if he could match any other houses with the same appearance. There were none.

***---****----****

Fully furnished and cleaned the condition inside the house surprised him. It hardly gave away the look of an old and unoccupied house from the inside. Freshly changed curtains hung over the small windows, the cushions, floor and ceiling were also cleaned and dusted. Even the bed had new bedspread, he noticed when he cracked open one of the three doors.

He ambled to the end of the house. The luminous of the sun shone through the window brought life into the kitchen. While surveying the well organised pots and utensils, a light breeze brushed his face. It sent a kind of soothing sensation, like a motherly touch, whispering everything is going to be alright.

Drawing a deep breath, Raghav pulled a chair out and sat at the small four-seater dining table facing the window. It had a view of the house's vast garden with overgrown weed plant and dead trees. A small, ruined hut stood barely stable at a corner. It shook a little to the left and right with every blow of the wind.

"Seems like the lawn had not been used for years but the house had been kept well." Raghav looked around the kitchen again and his thought travelled to him being homeless a few hours ago.

"What kind of fortune is this? Who was that old man? Why did he give the key to me?"

Raghav scratched his head, perplexed at the turn of events in one day. In the morning he was homeless, knew nowhere to go and by noon he was given a key to a house supposedly owned by him. It's mysterious yet the presence of the old man helped him at the right time, at least he wouldn't be homeless.

Relieved with a shelter above his head, the next thing he had to work on was to find a job that will pay him enough. His parents back in the village needed money to clear their age long debts and he delayed no more. Raghav sprinted to one of the rooms and got ready to find a job.

***----****----****

When he returned back to his new home, the sky had wrapped itself in a black blanket studded with sparkling stars. The streets in the Garden Villa were brightly lit with flashy white streetlights yet it was empty.

"It's the posh residence. No one comes out at night." Raghav reminded himself. It's a place where beautiful things were built but no one stopped by to admired, sadly. Raghav pitied the people in there lacking the sense of appreciation of nature.

Walking in no hurry to get to his new house, Raghav surveyed the guarded compound and instantly befriend with a security guard in charged. He spoke for hours with the man before he headed home.

As he reached the wooden house, the house smelled good as if someone had been cooking in the house. Heading straight to the kitchen, he gasped at the sight greeted him. Hot freshly cooked food spread on the dining table made just enough for one person to eat.

"Was it prepared for me?" He asked, mesmerised and uncertain of the sudden appearance of the food. "Or is there someone else sharing the house?"

Raghav did a quick check in the rooms, at the front lawn and later rushed to the back door, to check for the person for being kind enough to cook for him. However, there was no trace of anyone in the house. How did the food make its way inside?

Standing confused with the magically appeared food on the table, he leaned against the refrigerator. There it was another surprise as the machine seems to have been connected to the electricity. Someone had turned on the switch . . . and even filled the fridge? His jaw dropped; the refrigerator was stacked up with all kinds of food items.

"Who could it be?" he murmured shutting the fridge close. He kept staring at the food debating whether to go ahead and savour the nice smelling food or just go to bed in empty stomach.

The appealing food and his sense of control did no good to him as his empty tummy begun growling. The dishes were not fancy, but it was good enough to appease a man who had been eating instant noodles for the last few months. Surrendering himself to the aromatic food, Raghav gobbled. For the first time in many months, his heart and stomach filled with contentment. He thanked the unknown kind person for a delicious dinner and the old man for a house.

"Today had been good to me. Thank you, God."

***---****----****

Days turned weeks yet the surprise dinner continued without skipping a day and Raghav couldn't be grateful enough for the selfless gesture the kind-soul offered.

Although grateful, Raghav was guilty as well. Without knowing who the person was and eating for free scratched his honour. He even left a note with little money he had one day asking for kind person to show up. However, he came back home to a wonderful dinner with no reply to his note.

Understanding the privacy of the cook, he pestered them no more. And the routine continued for the next three months until he started noticing someone watching him.

It was a lady, he identified from the bright streetlight. "Could it be the lady who have been cooking dinner for me?" he asked for an answer he knew he wouldn't get.

A week later, as he was preparing himself for another job hunt, he had an unexpected visitor at his door. Well dresses in black suit and black shades, the bulky man stood towering him by a foot. Greeting Raghav with a warm smile, he then informed the reason of his visit.

For which, Raghav was taken aback. "You want to cater dinner from me?" he asked again, doubtful of the request asked to him.

"Yes, our boss had been restricting himself from asking for a long time and finally gave up. The smell we get every evening always leaves us mouthwatering." The man said licking his lips as he remembered the smell of Raghav's dinner the night before.

"I'll see you tonight to pick up the foods. We will pay you for the service. If the food taste as good as it smells, you might hit a jackpot." The bulky man nodded and left a confused, shocked and dumbfounded Raghav.

Pacing back and forth in the house, panicked, Raghav didn't know what to tell. How will he explain that he doesn't know who cooks his dinner? The only answer he got from the visit was the lady isn't the cook he thought she was a week ago.

"What do I do? The man did not even leave a request but a demand."

Leaving a note to the unknown cook about his new problem, Raghav left for his job interview only to return home with heavenly smell greeting him like always. Amidst the hectic day, he had almost forgotten about his morning encounter until he entered the kitchen.

On the table, set decks of food carriers filled with delicious food, he could tell by the smell. It has been over five months since he had moved in, he only managed to recognise the smell of the cook but not the person.

At his first delivery, the food was received by his neighbour who came running to the door for the food carriers. "I have always been dreaming to eat dinner cooked by you. The strong aromatic smell always makes us hungrier than we have ever been. And my wife." The man laughed aloud. "She kept staring your house every evening. You have magical hands I believed. I'm yet to be proven right. Thank you, I think I'll sleep peacefully today. And will repeat order if its good." The neighbour chirped and dug his hand into his pant pocket, handing Raghav a handsome amount for the food.

Grateful and humbled to the person who cooked, Raghav thanked his neighbour named Dilip and rushed back home. He needed to tell the kind-person about their earnings.

"If you are here, hear me out. You have been paid and I'll not take even a cent from the money. This is your money. Thank you so much for the many dinners you have cooked for me all these days," Raghav simpered and sat by the dining table lost in thoughts. He was pulled back to present when he heard the sound of plates and cups moving.

Despite the clear sound, he saw no one. Perhaps it was his imagination, Raghav brushed the thought of the cook showing themselves up and went ahead to freshen up.

Hot steaming food spread on the small dining table confirmed Raghav that the cook was indeed in the house, hidden. Yet how did he not notice any movement in the small house? Or is the cook that small that he or she slipped out of his sight ever so effortlessly?

"I know you are in here. Come on out. I'm not going to harm you, I promise."

He waited longer than he did when he occasionally calls the cookout. Over an hour had gone by neither did the cook turn up nor did Raghav touch the food. He was determined to know who it was. "I'm not going to eat until you come out from wherever you are." He demanded.

After a few quiet minutes, "Raghav, the food is getting cold. Please eat." A voice bounced within the small kitchen.

Startled at the sudden interference of the voice, he frantically looked around and found no one. He quickly gathered himself. "Not until I meet you."

"No, you can't see me. Please eat." The voice insisted.

He interpreted it as a lady's voice and seemed vaguely familiar.

"Why? Why can't I? I just want to thank you and give the money they had paid to you. Please show yourself."

"Even if I wish, I can't. Please eat."

The voice kept repeating, asking him to eat and it sounded more familiar than the voice, yet he was far from recognising who does the voice belong to.

"Do I know you?" he asked finally, to which there was a long silence before the voice spoke.

"Yes."

In a second, goosebumps rose on his arms as shiver run down his spine. Who was he talking to? Is it even human?

"Who? Who are you?" he managed to ask, whispering his question.

"Granny." The voice answered.

Struck with horror shock, he froze. The next thing Raghav knew, he was standing outside the house. Shivering out of fear, he sat by the footpath not knowing what to do.

Sweating profusely, he shook his head clearing the possible reason of his granny's presences in the house. "No. Granny can't be in there. It must be someone else trying to play tricks with me. Not possible," Raghav vacillated.

While he was deliberating on what to do next, the security guard who he had befriended joined him.

"What happened, young man? You look pale?" the guard asked.

"It's nothing. How's your day been." Raghav quickly diverted the guard with a question. He can't afford to tell something silly to the guard and become a laughingstock.

The guard nodded and went on sharing his day's happenings. Raghav had then learnt that the talk about the delicious food from his house has been making rounds. The thought left him clueless yet again. Wanting to know about the history of the house he lived, Raghav took some time before opening up about it to the guard.

"The house belongs to an old lady. She died many years ago and later the house was rented to an old man. A few years later, he too had died, and no one lived in there since then. It's been empty for the last ten years."

"Ten years?" Gasped Raghav. His thoughts went back to the first day he got into the house. Cleaned and well maintained.

Was the lady his grandmother? Then who was the old man who gave him the key? Was he living with ghosts? Why did the ghost want to help him?

-----*****-----*****----

Night turned morning and Raghav couldn't remember how he ended up sleeping on the garden bench. The last he remembered was talking to the guard by the footpath. Hearing voices around, he straightens up and ran his fingers through his hair, keeping them tidy. He had to maintain is appearance at least if not for his small wooden house amongst the big ones.

Think about the house, Raghav recollected what happened the night he left the house. What am I supposed to do now, go back or run away from here? How am I going to live in there knowing someone claiming to be my grandmother is in the house?

Too occupied in his thoughts, an arm briefly shook him by his shoulders trying to get his attention. "I'm sorry, I did not notice you. How can I help you, sir?" Raghav asked.

The man in his mid-thirties, short and fit jogged on the same spot as he answered Raghav. "I'm Akash. I heard from Dilip last night that he ordered dinner from you, and it was extraordinary. Dilip can't stop praising your cooking skills making envy for not having the opportunity to try your cooking."

Raghav only smiled as this new man spoke about the cooking his self-claimed hidden grandmother did. Should I tell him, it wasn't me who cooked the food?

"I came to you to place my order for today's dinner actually. I would have asked for tomorrow had not that Dilip announcing to the world about your cooking. I so want to try your cooking too." Akash then pulled out a stack of note to pay him beforehand for the dinner.

"Here, take this. I have to go now. See you tonight. Can't wait for the dinner!" The man handed the money and jogged away delighted about his dinner of the so-called fantastic cooking of Raghav.

The helpless body slummed back on the bench with money in his hand. As much as he wanted to run away from the house and this place, the money in his hand had practically tied him. He can't take the money and not give what he was asked to do. With no option left but to return to the house, Raghav dragged himself home.

By the time he returned home, he had three stacks of money from three different houses in the villa. They had all stopped him on his way back and requested to deliver dinner for them too and paid him with good amount.

He took a seat at the dining table and placed all the money he got on the table. "I should have never returned but these money had me come back," he said aloud hoping the person could hear him.

"Take the money and leave. I don't want the money." The voiced boomed from somewhere behind him.

"It's... It's not my money. People around the neighbourhood wanted to try your cooking as well. They had even paid for their dinner tonight. . . I can help you too."

A long silence after, the voice spoke. "Fine, I'll cook but with one condition."

"What condition?"

"You should continue to stay here."

***---****----****

"You mean to say, you have been stuck in this human world because of our curses?" After three weeks of their new catering business and with not much of verbal exchange, the lady named Shanta opened up.

She was indeed his grandmother who had died many years ago and that her spirit had been roaming in the very house since then. Shanta claimed that her children's never-ending curse to her had resulted to staying on earth.

At first, Raghav did not take even a single word of her to be true. He affirmed that she was tricking him by hiding away from him. "Otherwise, why would you lock me in my room until you finish cooking?" To which Shanta did all the trick a spirit would do to show its existence.

Raghav had fallen sick for two days and slowly recovered as he got used to things moving by itself in the air. As soon as he was back healthy, Raghav did a question-and-answer session. She had proven to him by answering all his questions with the right answer.

"I couldn't leave the world neither this house. I had been roaming in here for so long. This has to end. The old man who had given you the key to this house had been living here before. He wanted to help me and begin searching for you," Shanta said when asked about her trying to go to the other world.

"The truth is that my children thought I never helped them and left them on their own. Even you had scolded and cursed me for not saving anything for you. But it's not, I did not get a chance to tell anyone about this house owned by your grandfather neither did anyone had the time to listen. Thus, the knowledge about this house buried with me."

Raghav listened as his grandmother sobbed somewhere close to him. He never shared any special bond with Shanta when she was alive. Nevertheless, this short period of time had brought him close to her.

She shared many memories and stories he had never heard about and spent the days after opening up sharing her recipes to him. Shanta made sure he had memorised her recipes for it carried more value now than she had ever thought it would be.

Raghav and Shanta's catering business picked up well with the latter's recipes and the former's idea on developing their business. With the money they earned, Raghav built a small restaurant in front of his house. He was determined not to demolish the wooden house they were staying, and it remained as that even after five years of establishment of Shanta's Catering.

***---****---***

It was an annual holiday for Shanta's. The restaurant was empty unlike the usual crowd. The posh residence was now not only known for its luxury houses but also for Shanta's Catering. From dining-in to home delivery, Raghav had expanded his food business so well that he had even opened a couple of branches in the city.

Raghav stood outside the brown-orangy gate with holes here and there, admiring the wooden house standing behind the restaurant he had built three years ago. He continued to be grateful to the old man who came to him that day, it changed his life. His parents were sorry for Shanta for all that they had caused her unintentionally and they had joined Raghav in taking care of the business whenever they could.

He recalled the day when he noticed Shanta's voice was gradually sounding weak. It worried him although he couldn't do anything nor see how his grandmother was doing. After a few days, her speech fainted to the level he could no longer catch her words.

Shanta used all the strength she had and spoke as loud as she could.

"Son, my time has finally come. I have given you the gift. The gift of survival and I no longer want to wander in this world. Set me free my child. Let your grandmother really rest in peace. Liberate me from this tie, son." She requested; her voice came in a whisper. "Let the God know you are no longer upset with me. Tell Him, I have done my part."

Raghav stared the wooden floor, eyes heavy with fat tears threatening to drop. He said it with heavy heart, although he wanted her to be with him for longer it was wrong. She should be free. Free from everything that tied her down to this world. She had been a wonderful grandmother, he wished he had known about her sooner but grateful to have spent the last three years with her. "You have done your part, granny. I'll be forever grateful to you."

"Thank you for the gift."