Small imaginary stories

  The apartment was quiet. Not lonely quiet. Different. Warm quiet. Raghav sat on the sofa. The death sofa. Which honestly had excellent character growth. Meera sat beside him. Solid now. Mostly. Sometimes flickering slightly like emotionally confused electricity. Neither of them spoke for a while. Because after “I love you”… apparently both forgot how conversations worked. Finally— Meera broke the silence. “So.” “So?” “You’re in love with ghost.” Raghav sighed. “When you say it out loud, it sounds medically concerning.” She grinned proudly. “And yet here you are.” He looked at her softly. “Yeah.” Pause. “…Here I am.” Outside… rain poured again. Of course. Even weather shipped them now. Meera leaned against the window. Watching lights outside quietly. “You know,” she whispered, “I thought disappearing would scare me most.” Raghav looked at her immediately. “But it wasn’t that.” She smiled faintly. “It was leaving without being remembered.” Raghav stood up instantly. Walked toward ...

 The confession happened accidentally. Obviously. Nothing normal had ever happened in this apartment. It started with noodles. At 2 AM. Because emotional people apparently stop respecting time. Raghav stood in kitchen cooking sadly. Meera floated nearby. Supervising uselessly. “You’re putting too much masala.” “There’s no such thing.” “There absolutely is. Your noodles smell aggressive.” Raghav stirred angrily. Mostly because Meera flickered twice already that evening. And every flicker felt like heart attack subscription. Meera watched him quietly. Then smiled softly. “You’ve become louder.” “What?” “You used to sit alone in silence.” Pause. “Now you argue with invisible woman at midnight.” Raghav snorted. “Great character development.” “Honestly? Huge improvement.” Silence settled softly. Comfortable. Warm. Dangerous. Then suddenly— The gas stove went OFF. Entire kitchen dark. Raghav sighed immediately. “Fantastic.” Meera floated closer...

 Raghav had not slept properly in three days. His hair looked confused. His eyes looked betrayed. And his search history looked medically concerning. “How to stop ghost from disappearing” “Can love save spirits” “Affordable exorcist near me” Meera stared at the laptop. “…Why is affordable important?” “I have budget sadness.” Books covered the apartment now. Ghost books. Spiritual books. One cookbook accidentally included somehow. Meera picked it up. “Why do we have 101 Paneer Recipes ?” Raghav blinked. “…I was emotional shopping.” She laughed softly. Still fading slightly around edges. Still smiling anyway. Raghav hated that smile now. Because it looked temporary. “We’ll find something,” he muttered again. Meera floated beside him. “You’ve said that fourteen times.” “I’m building confidence.” “You’re building insomnia.” Suddenly— Raghav stood up dramatically. “I have an idea.” Meera looked scared immediately. Because his ideas had history. ...

  At first… Raghav thought he was sleepy. Because Meera looked slightly transparent. Just slightly. Like weak Wi-Fi ghost version. He blinked twice. Still transparent. “…Why can I see the wall through you?” Meera looked down casually. “Oh.” Pause. “…That’s new.” Raghav sat up immediately. “NEW?!” She poked her own arm. Hand passed halfway through. “…Okay,” she whispered. “That’s mildly concerning.” “MILDLY?!” Meera tried laughing. But even her laugh sounded weaker somehow. Lighter. Farther away. Raghav stood up. “What’s happening?” She shrugged. “I don’t know.” “You’re the ghost!” “You think ghosts get orientation meetings?!” Panic entered the apartment quietly. And stayed. Meera tried acting normal. Which honestly looked suspicious. She floated around casually. Pretended everything was fine. But sometimes… parts of her flickered. Like an old memory struggling to stay. Raghav noticed every single time. Every. Single. Time. “You...

  The next morning… Meera woke up angry. Which was impressive. Because technically… she didn’t sleep. Raghav entered the hall carefully. Meera sat on the sofa. Arms crossed. Plotting crimes spiritually. “…You okay?” he asked carefully. “No.” “Still upset?” “No.” “You’re doing the angry eyebrow thing.” “These are haunted eyebrows.” Doorbell rang. Both froze. Meera whispered dramatically: “The enemy arrives.” Raghav opened the door. Karan stood there. With three workers. And confidence nobody requested. “Morning!” Karan smiled. Meera immediately booed from behind him. Loudly. The workers looked around nervously. “…Did someone say boo?” Raghav answered instantly. “No.” Meera: “BOOOOO.” One worker crossed himself emotionally. Wrong religion. Correct fear. Karan ignored it. “We’ll start measurements.” Meera floated beside Raghav. “If they touch the kitchen, I riot.” “You don’t even cook.” “I emotionally supervise.” The workers entered c...

 Peace lasted exactly… two days. Which was already suspicious. Because happiness in Raghav’s life had weak Wi-Fi. Doorbell rang. Raghav opened casually. Big mistake. A tall man stood outside. Well dressed. Overconfident. Perfume strong enough to attack lungs. “Hello,” he smiled. “I’m Karan. New building owner.” From inside the apartment… Meera whispered: “I hate him already.” Raghav sighed internally. “Please don’t start.” “I started when he smiled.” Karan stepped inside. Looked around critically. “Hm. Old apartment.” Meera floated behind him. “You’re an old apartment.” Raghav pinched his forehead. This was going badly already. Karan continued walking around. “I’m planning renovations.” Meera gasped dramatically. “OVER MY DEAD BODY.” Pause. “…Actually yes. Technically.” Raghav coughed loudly to hide laughter. Karan frowned. “You okay?” “Yes. Allergic to rich people.” Karan smiled politely. Suspiciously politely. Meanwhile Meera fo...

 Raghav never got sick gracefully. Some people looked dignified with fever. Soft blankets. Calm suffering. Tragic movie energy. Raghav looked like expired cabbage. He sneezed aggressively. Missed the tissue completely. And stared at the wall like life betrayed him personally. Meera floated nearby. Concerned. Very concerned. Dangerously concerned. “You look horrible,” she said. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Raghav pulled the blanket tighter. “I’m dying.” Meera gasped. “EXCUSE ME?! That’s MY department!” He groaned dramatically. “My soul is leaving…” “Don’t joke like that!” Raghav blinked weakly. “…Why?” Meera froze. Just for a second. Then immediately pointed at him. “Because if you become ghost too, this apartment will become unbearable.” Raghav smiled weakly. “There she is.” Five minutes later… Things became worse. Because Meera decided to “take care” of him. Which honestly… felt medically illegal. She brought soup. Technically float...

  Raghav was peaceful. Which was suspicious already. Morning coffee. Silent apartment. No flying objects. No ghost commentary. No emotional damage before breakfast. Then the phone rang. He answered casually. Big mistake. “Raghav beta, I’m downstairs.” His soul left immediately. “WHO?” “Your mother.” Raghav froze. Dropped the spoon. Dropped confidence. Dropped desire to live. Meera appeared instantly. “What happened?” “My mom is here.” Silence. Even Meera froze. “…Alive mom?” she whispered. “Obviously alive mom!” Meera gasped dramatically. “Oh no.” “What do you mean ‘oh no’?!” he shouted. “She’s a mother! Mothers can sense everything!” Doorbell rang. Again. More aggressively. Mother-level ringing. Raghav panicked. “Hide!” “I’m a ghost!” “HIDE BETTER!” Door opened. And in walked his mother. Raghav's Mother One handbag. One suspicious stare. Unlimited judgment. She looked around the apartment slowly. “So dirty.” “Nice to see yo...