He lit up another cigarette, just to procrastinate going inside the house, in spite of the bitter cold weather.

“I see you still haven’t given up smoking”

He took his first look at her after five years.

“I’m going to quit, soon” he responded, throwing the half finished cigarette on the ground.

“I’ve heard that before” she said a hint of mockery in her tone. “Come on in, its freezing outside”

“Why don’t you go ahead I’ll join you” he said faking a smile.

As the front door closed, memories from five years ago came flooding to his mind. Memories he thought he had buried so deep that they would never come back.

The image of him and her, so close, intertwined. Her body so supple, so soft. She still looked stunning like she did then.  He tried to get rid of those images, but how could he when he was standing at the same place he did 5 years ago; by that shattered window. How in the world could he allow himself to repeat the same mistake twice?

With a shiver in his spine he entered the house. It was a relief from the cold outside.

He looked around the house, nothing had changed. The old lamp by the sofa, the wall clock that never chimed, the torn ugly rug. He remembered wondering how such a stunning looking woman survived in a place like this when he was here before.

“I see you haven’t changed furniture”, he said mimicking her tone.

“Well, I can barely make the rent, where do you think I can get the money for new furniture?” she responded walking in with a teapot and two dissimilar cups.

He remembered how she had almost hit him with the same teacup in a silly argument they were having. That explained just the one cup with that horrible flowery design.

“Would you like some cookies?”

He snapped out of his reverie and saw the soft loving look on her face.

“Ok that’s it! Drop the facade Maggie, cut to the chase. You didn’t call me here to have a friendly cup of tea. What is it now that you want out of me after so many years?”

“You do know me very well Mark. I’ll get to the point then” and she sighed loudly her chest heaving.

“I’m pregnant”

“So what? We separated 5 years ago Maggie, I don’t really care”

“Oh! yes you will care Mark, after I tell you who the father is”

“And why would you think that?”

“It’s your son David”

“This is preposterous, my son is in Harvard getting a law degree, there is no way in the world that that’s possible. If you are looking for a way to shell more money out of me , fine I’ll write u a cheque,  a big one to keep your shitty mouth shut, and I don’t want to hear from you gain”

“Oh yes I want money, but not keep my mouth shut, but to keep the child Mark, so you better start listening to me, or you’ll be sorry”

“So you are threatening me now. And why do you think I would believe that you want to keep the baby all of a sudden. Doesn’t it mean it’s the end of your “career” if I may?” he said quoting in air.

“Oh! My career may not be as glamorous as the judge of the High Court, but let me tell you, you were once the puppet of this lady here and now so is your son.

Think about it; Mark Scott, Judge of the high court, has had a relationship with a “hooker” and now his son is involved with her too. Headlines for tomorrows newspaper eh?”

Mark broke into sweat. All he wanted to do was to bury this woman so deep that she would never be able to mess with his life anymore. And now his son was stupid enough to get involved with the same woman. It was important to keep calm now.

“Alright I need proof that you are pregnant and that my son is the father, and I will write you a cheque that will cover your expenses. But you would not contact me or my son after this is it clear”

“You are a true lawyer aren’t you? Here are the reports.”

Mark left that place shattered, frustrated and angry at his son.

————————————————————————————————————————-

“So how is the preparation for the bar exam coming up?”

“I’ll be honest dad I have a lot of cramming to do”, David said with a smirk.

Mark couldn’t help but thinking how his smart, intelligent son who always had his head on his shoulders fall to such a level. Like father like son didn’t seem like so much of an irony didn’t it?

“Dad.. Dad? You seem lost”

“Hey listen, I’ve got to talk to you about something”

“Sure anything dad”

He thought for a minute about how his doctor had confirmed that all the reports were genuine. He didn’t want his son to be embarrassed.

“Oh well it can wait son.”

David left the house thinking about his fathers’ behavior tonight.

That night MarK wrote a cheque in the name of Maggie Peters.

————————————————————————————————————————

“We are rich Tony, so so rich” Maggie slurred.

She is a bit too drunk. Tony thought.

“Yes we are my dear. Let’s move this party to my bedroom shall we?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yes we shall Dr. Tony Atkinson, M.D. , PhD and the judges best friend!!!”

“Antique English Clock. Made in England. Very old, very antique…. Le Lo Le lo…”

Mark was always enchanted with that centuries old looking wall clock. No matter how many times he came to Chor Bazaar he always made it a point to go to that lane with the shop selling stolen antiques.

It surprised him that no one ever took interest in that clock which looked like the ones you could see on a station in London.

It would go so well with the theme of his newly renovated plush flat at Marine Drive.

Mark had been in India for almost 6 years now, and had made quite a successful living with his art galleries. He could buy any Vintage furniture he wanted, but his heart always wavered to that antique English Clock.

Concentrate Mark, you don’t require this; you are here for Nike shoes, and a Leather jacket for Loraine.

He quickly found the shop he was looking for, bought a pair of Nike sneakers which the shopkeeper claimed were fresh maal (Meaning just stolen from someone who paid four thousand Rupees for) and a brown leather jacket for his sister back home.

He left the narrow lanes of Chor Bazaar in a hurry lest his heart flutter back to that stupid clock.

“You know Mark I love your new house, you’ve done it so well” Jacob his partner told him the same night when they were chilling over a couple of drinks.

“Thanks Jake, Cheers to that”

“But you know what is missing from this? You need a nice Antique looking wall clock in this corner here. Wouldn’t it look grand, don’t u think? “

“You know what I’ll do, I’ll talk to my antique furniture guy at Bandra tomorrow and get you a good deal on one of those Victorian style Clocks that he has. Or even better I’ll give it to you as a house warming gift. How’s that huh?”

“Hey now c’mon Jake, you don’t have to gift me anything, and besides I think I know the perfect clock that will fit in to this corner” This had to be a good sign, a sign that he should just go and buy that Antique Clock.

“Its fifteen thousand rupees saab” said the guy at the crammed antique store.

“You think I’m crazy to pay that much for this, go call Raja I want to talk him, not you”

Raja walked in from the inner room. “You plan to make me bankrupt Raja?

“Saab he’s quoting very less for you, this is classic 18^th century clock stolen from England, it’s priceless” Raja said in his heavy accented English.

“Oh ya? So you mean to say you have this watch from the 18^th century in this little shop of yours? And that no one has ever tried to show interest in it?”

“Well saab, I no lie to you, this watch has been in our family since generations. My Great Grandfather got it from this English guy with hat and umbrella, and he said it was a very special clock, and you should only give it to right person”

“What is so special about it?”

“The Englishman claims that if you listen carefully you can here many voices from the Clock which would reveal your future. I tell you saab we have been hearing from generations but not a single word. I give it to you because you from England and you look like noble man. The watch must want to come to you”

“Yeah well whatever, here’s 12 thousand, get it delivered to my address here by noon today”

Although Mark pooh-poohed the story that Raja had told him, but deep down he felt a certain connection to the Clock too, or else why would he keep coming back to it?

That night Mark dozed off on his comfy leather sofa, when at midnight the clocked chimed 12 times, and he woke up with a start. Realizing that it was only his newest possession he got up to go to his bedroom, when suddenly there was this buzzing noise.

It was like hundreds of people were talking at the same time, like it was a railway station. Mark put both his hands on his ears and the voices stopped. He carefully removed his hands again, and he could still hear them.

He frantically checked all his rooms for any TV or stereo that must have been left running, but there was nothing. The voices were getting louder. Mark ran to his bedroom locked the door put two pillows on his head and went off to sleep.

The next morning he went on with his usual chores forgetting all that had happened the last night.

The voices came again the next night. Mark thought he was going crazy. He could not sleep for a week, when he decided to go back to Raja and ask for an explanation.

“You say you here voices saab? You must come inside and meet my grandfather; he will be able to explain”

Raja’s grandfather looked like he was a 100 years old, with a long beard, and a wrinkly frail body. Raja quickly explained him the situation in Hindi when his grandfather opened his eyes wide and looked at Mark

“Jo kehete hai karo. Suno”

“He means you should listen carefully to the voices, they are your ancestors, and you should do what they say”

Mark went home confused and scared. That night he made himself a huge mug of black coffee and decided to get this madness over with.

Promptly at midnight the voices came back. Mark strained his ears and tried to single out one voice. There was one which was the loudest.

From what mark could here, it just kept on saying, “Silver Chalice at Cindy Mason’s grave”

The next day mark called his dad and enquired about his ancestors and whether there was any Cindy Mason in their family. It turned out that there was, and surprisingly she was buried in India, in Mumbai for that matter.

Mark was shocked. How could this watch be anywhere related to his family, his ancestors? Nevertheless he took Raja’s grandfathers’ advice and started looking up all the cemeteries around the city.

Finally he found the one, and found Cindy Mason’s Tombstone which said, Cindy Mason January 1878 to October 1935. So she died during the English regime in India. That was interesting.

The next day Mark bought two huge silver chalices, bought off from Jakes Antique dealer in Bandra, since he thought that would make her happy, and hid them in the mud near the Tombstone.

The voices stopped troubling him from the same night.

“Antique English Clock. Made in England. Very old, very antique…. Le Lo Le lo…” Raja was shouting at the top of his voice.

“Psst Raja, these Chalices are awesome we could easily get 15 thousand for them. But next time you ask for something more expensive ok?”

“Yeah yeah”

Chote the assistant chuckled heartily, and continued with his usual work.

“Antique English Clock. Made in England. Very old, very antique…. Le Lo Le lo…”

As she stood on the bridge a gust of wind blew the hundred or so flags in her direction. The yellow one flew over her face and blocked her vision. It was a beautiful yellow, a shade she liked. She hurriedly removed the piece of cloth from her face as if she could not miss even a single second of gazing at the wonderful expanse of nature in front of her.

She could do nothing but marvel at the beauty of nature. It was serene yet in way so strong. She loved it so much that she could spend every single day of her life here, in the middle of nowhere. It was a place that she longed to be in, where she had no worries, no one to please but herself.

If only life were that simple, if only life were that uncomplicated. If only all that she had to ever do was stand here and look around.

Oh well she thought I might as well enjoy it while I’m here. She was so glad she had decided to come to Manali all by herself. At first her family was appalled to say the least by the idea of a single woman travelling so far away from home. After all she came from a culture where single women were supposed to be depending on someone to take care of them. They were not supposed to come to Manali just to be themselves. That’s what her father had thought.

It took enormous amount of persuasion to get her family to understand what she meant by being “herself”. Finally they gave in and let her go.

“Hi I’m Jacob”

She was startled at the sudden interruption in her thoughts.

“Oops I didn’t mean to scare you, Sorry”

He had hazel eyes, and sharp features she noticed.

“I’m Renu”

“You a tourist too?”

“Umm well…” Don’t talk to strangers beta, and don’t let anyone know you are alone. Her father’s words started ringing in her ears.

She shut off the voce irritatingly and said, “Yes a tourist, like everyone else here” and could feel herself smiling.

“Oh that’s great; I was wondering what you were doing here all alone leaning over the edge like this. For a second I thought you were going to jump off” he said a smile forming at the edge of his lips.

“Nah, I’m just this far from being that frustrated” she said gesturing with her finger and thumb.

He laughed almost a musical laugh. She liked the twinkle in his eyes when he did that.

“How did u know about this place? Not many people know about this bridge?”

“One of my friends told me I had to be here if I was Manali, soI asked around and after getting lost twice here I am”

“Oh well then I’m really lucky to have met you here eh?” he smiled that smile again

Don’t trust anyone. Her father’s voice again.

“Well if you say so” she felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and embarrassed she turned around to look at the beautiful expanse of the valley.

“You seem to know this place quite a bit, do you know those woods on the other end, they say are haunted”

“Ah! Yes they all are, aren’t they?” She giggled

“I’m serious there’s a legend of a whispering ghost out there he is said to have taken peoples souls away just by whispering into their ears.”

“Yeah right, and I’m the spirit of the first woman he killed and I’m going to have to do much less than whisper to kill you” she retorted sarcasm heavy in her tone.

“I can prove it to you, I’m a researcher on the subject and I came here after hearing numerous such incidents all the way from London”

“What kind of crazy people have the time to research on such things?”

My kind of people, and I don’t look crazy do I?

“Can’t say much we’ve just met”, she shrugged her shoulders.

“Hey look I’ve got a lot of gadgets with me too if you can’t be convinced.” He hurriedly took out weird look machines and wires and sensors of some kind from his backpack.

“And you think that would make me come out in the woods with you”

“I was hoping it would” he said it in a barely audible tone

“Oh well alright what’s there to lose, I’ll come along”

Was she a bit too trusting of this man? She pushed the thought away. He looks alright to me.

They stared walking towards the woods. She was stealing glances towards him all the while. His eyes were beautiful, so was his face.

As they were walking a sudden gust of wind blew the hundred or so flags in their direction. The yellow one flew over her face and it went right through her as if she wasn’t there.

She looked around; the guy with  hazel eyes was gone.