November 22 - There was a pooja in Nandini's house today. It was well attended. The last of the guests left a couple of hours ago, and the house had turned peaceful again. Nandini, her brother, mother and grandfather cleared up the items of worship. All of them were tired after a long and hectic day. They were about to enjoy a hard-earned rest when there was a power- cut. But it is winter, and Shamli has a pleasant climate all around the year.

At the moment, Nandini's grandfather and brother are trying to amuse themselves in the absence of TV, her mother is preparing tea, and Nandini is standing at the window in the drawing room, admiring the beautiful night.

The darkness was lit only by the light of the full moon, and Nandini didn't know she was smiling as she gazed out of the window. It was a beautiful night and there was a sweet, untraceable fragrance in the air.

The house wasn't in the heart of the town, and here, apart from a few affluent households that could afford generators, houses were submerged in darkness with only lamps and candles shining here and there like little stars. It was just late evening, but like all other small towns, Shamli's day had come to an end. All had retired to their homes for the night and the streets were empty.

Still dressed in the dark red ghagra choli she had worn for the pooja, Nandini turned away from the window and saw the very round outline of her grandfather walking around the house with a bell in one hand and an incense stick in the other and muttering something under his breath. She was quite sure she knew what he was doing, brandishing the incense stick like a sword. She smiled. Her adorable grandfather was decidedly ghost hunting with all the seriousness of a veteran. But she knew he would love to be asked the complexities of the 'procedure'.

"What are you doing, grandpa?" she asked while walking towards him, trying very hard not to grin.

Bhoothnath stopped in his tracks, and with a pompous and grave look, answered, "I am ensuring the protection of this house tonight."

"Why, grandpa?" she asked, amused and still trying not to chuckle at the thought of the superstitious tale she was about to hear.

"You had to ask, didn't you?" her little brother Prakash, who had been playing with his own shadow on the wall, asked gloomily. "Now he'll tell us how all the demons from the underworld are coming up through the drains tonight to destroy the earth."

Nandini silenced her brother with a look.

"Be quiet, boy," Bhoothnath said, offended. "I have been a temple priest for many decades now. We have been priests for generations! I know all there is to know about the other realms. You are just nine years old. What do you know about spirits, and ghosts and demons?"

"I know they don't exist," Prakash retorted.

"Hmph! All this modern knowledge has spoilt your head. What I say is true. This is no ordinary night," her grandfather declared, "This is a very special night. A night that only comes once in many decades. A night when demigods come down to earth and play their mischief on ordinary mortals. Many things will happen this night, destinies will be met, and so many lives will change forever. Yes...there is some strange magic in the air tonight," his voice faltered into silence and he seemed to have lost himself in his dire predictions.

Nandini and Prakash, who had years of experience with their grandfather's rock solid belief in sometimes cute, sometimes bizarre, but always funny superstitions, heard this speech in silence. Then Prakash burst out laughing and the smile Nandini had been fighting for so long finally won.

"You scorn my knowledge, do you? Children these days...no respect for their elders. Just you two wait and watch. Tomorrow, we will hear of all the strange things that happened tonight," Bhoothnath said indignantly and went off to sulk in a corner.

Nandini's mother came into the room from the kitchen, holding a tray containing a plate of sweets and four steaming cups of tea. She had been on her feet throughout the day for the pooja and her gentle face was totally worn out. As usual, with just one look, she immediately understood what had happened.

"Come on, you two," she murmured, "You know how happy it makes him when we believe in him. And his stories are so harmless. Can't you just go along with them?" she looked pleadingly at her children.

But Nandini, who was already feeling guilty for having smiled, had picked up a sweetmeat from the plate in her mom's hand and was walking towards her grandfather, who was sitting on his favourite chair with his arms crossed.

She knelt in front of him. "Did my darling grandpa feel hurt," Nandini asked, pulling his plump and wrinkled cheeks. "Here, this will make you feel better," she smiled cheekily, holding up a laddoo enticingly in front of his face.

He grabbed at it and his frown decreased a little. Nandini realised more effort was needed to repair the damage.

"Grandpa, what must I do to protect myself from the evil forces tonight? I'm sure a great priest like you must have a solution," she said with as much sincerity as she could muster.

The slight smile became a full blown one and Bhoothnath beamed as he proudly said, "Of course, I do! Here, take this thread and tie it around your wrist. And you'll be protected."

He pulled out a red thread from the stack that he always kept on his person, all of which were supposedly full of sacred power to repel demons, and tied it around her wrist with great ceremony.

"There, now if any kind of evil force tries to come near you, it will be blown to bits." he proclaimed proudly. Immediately, another wrist was presented to him by Prakash, who had smartly waited for his sister to find the best way to make peace with his grandfather. Nandini laughed affectionately and rose to her feet, as her delighted grandfather pulled out another 'sacred' thread for her brother.

She heard her mother call out to her and found her standing at the door, looking worried. "I think I haven't taken the lamp out of the temple and placed it in the tree's alcove," her mom said, referring to her daily practice. "Could you go and do it? Take Prakash with you. I don't want you going out in the dark alone."

"The temple is just a few feet from our door, maa. I don't need any security to come with me," Nandini said wryly.

"Are you sure?" her mother asked anxiously.

"Yes, I am," she reassured.

"All right then. But hurry back," her mother said.

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Nandini opened the doors of the temple, stepped in and closed the doors to keep out any strong gust of wind. Her anklets and bangles were abnormally loud in the absolute stillness of the night. She walked to the little lit lamp kept at the foot of the locked door of the inner sanctum, and picked it up carefully, sheltering the flame with one hand to protect it from the gentle breeze blowing around the place.

She walked back to the door, opened it with her free hand and stepped out into the velvety darkness outside with the holy lamp, and immediately stopped, startled...

A boy was standing a few feet away from the last step, his palms joined as if in prayer, staring at her. And he looked as shocked as she felt.

They simply stood looking at each other for a few moments, and for that period of time there only seemed to be a boy and a girl and a little lamp that was the only source of light. Then the stranger lowered his hands to his sides and moved forward a bit. Nandini felt inexplicably sure that he was going to say something....when a sudden breeze came, and brought some awareness.

They simultaneously realized that they were staring at an unknown person. Her eyes fell on a small traveling bag near his feet. He followed her eyes to the bag, and he gave a slight start like he had just remembered something.

He picked it up, not looking at her, keeping his eyes fixed on the last step. He lifted the bag on to his shoulder, and then his eyes returned to her face, which was glowing in the light of the little lamp. He took a step backwards, and another, still keeping his eyes on her, then abruptly turned and started to walk away.

For a second, she wanted to ask him to stop. Thankfully, the impulse passed, and sanity returned. He was only a stranger passing by in the dark.

Nandini got down the steps and started to walk slowly towards the tree, still absentmindedly guarding the flame of the lamp, determined not to look in the direction in which the young man had walked away. She placed the lamp carefully in the natural alcove in the tree, locked the outer doors of the temple securely, and started to walk towards the house.

Then just before stepping into the courtyard, she gave into an overpowering urge and turned around. And in that same instant, at a great distance away, the boy turned too. She could only see the white of his face in the dark but she knew it reflected the same shock of seeing their action mirrored by the other. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a bus screeched to a halt in front of him, hiding him from her view. When it moved on, he was gone too.

Feeling an odd need for some protection, with her eyes still on the spot where the boy had disappeared, she touched her wrist to feel the thread, only to discover that it was no longer there.

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The minute she stepped into the house, her grandfather came scurrying to enquire if she had survived the trip without being attacked by demons.

Nandini hid her thread-less hand behind her back and assured him she was fine, but it was less easy to convince her mother. When her grandfather had left, Nandini made to follow, but her mother held her back.

"What's wrong?" her mother asked.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?" Nandini said, trying to sound surprised.

"Something is different about you. Did something happen when you were outside?" her mother asked, searching her face for clues.

"Nothing happened," she lied, "I'm just really tired and hungry. What's for dinner?"

She could tell that her mother wasn't convinced, but thankfully, there was no further interrogation.

Nandini was quiet for the rest of the night, and later, lay awake in bed for a long time.

She felt as though she wasn't completely present...like she had lost some part of herself.

It almost felt as if a tiny bit of herself had been left behind on those temple steps, gazing at the darkness into which the stranger had disappeared.

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