The Flat No One Wanted… Except Us

Based on true instances & memories.

This is one of those stories that somehow always comes up during late-night conversations with friends… and gets requested again and again.

Honestly, this written version won’t do justice. It misses my expressions, my pauses, and the way I whisper certain parts. But I’ll try......

When my dad started working with a PSU, he was a bachelor. Soon after, he got married to my mom, and they wanted a home in the staff quarters.

But getting a flat wasn’t easy. There was high demand, long waiting lists, and not enough “connections.”

Time passed. My sister was born.

Now the need felt urgent. ...Still, nothing.

One day, out of nowhere, my dad got a call. “A flat is available.”

Dad came home and told my mom. She was thrilled!!

“When can we shift?” she asked immediately.

But dad hesitated.

“I thought I should discuss something with you first.”

My mom was confused.

“Is there leakage? Some problem with the house?”

There was a problem.

The flat 'D-2' had been empty since the society was built.

When my dad questioned HR, they gave him a strange answer: There had been… “paranormal instances.”

The stories were oddly specific.

Workers during construction had experienced it.

Then a few residents who tried staying there.

Nothing harmful. Just… strange.

Bathroom lights switching on at midnight.

Sounds of someone scrubbing, as if taking a bath.

And sometimes, while asleep, the quilt being pulled tightly over the head.

My mom, a farmer’s daughter who had grown up in the interiors of Mangalore, laughed.

“Start packing,” she said.

And that was that.

My parents along with my sister moved into D-2.

A few years later, I was born.

And for the next 10 years…We had nothing but happy memories in that house.

My mom turned the backyard into something magical. Behind D wing, it was like our own little paradise. There were trees—custard apples, guava, papayas, bananas. Flower plants like Aboli and Jai.

And right in front of our kitchen window, there was a banyan tree my parents had nurtured from a tiny plant. It grew huge over the years. 

Some of my best childhood memories are of swinging on its aerial roots with my friends.

When I was 3 years old, the society went through renovations. Families had to temporarily shift to other empty flats.

We moved from D wing to B wing.

And that’s when things changed.

Workers who stayed in our flat during the renovation started experiencing… the same things.

Bathroom lights....

Scrubing sounds ....

The quilt.

Word spread.

And suddenly, the entire society knew about D-2.

Then the story grew.

Some people claimed they saw a woman standing under the banyan tree at night.

Far away. Silent.

Later, details were added—A white saree, growing taller as you watched. My parents dismissed it all. 

But the story had already taken a life of its own.

And me?...Any guesses??.....

I was thrilled.!!

I still remember this clearly...I was just 3, but I have this vivid memory of being excited that my house was “haunted.”

Think about it.

Today, our idea of ghosts comes from horror movies and books. But back then, in the 1980s, we had just DD1 and DD2. Our tiny crown brand black-and-white TV didn’t exactly expose us to horror.

The closest thing I had seen was the 'Skeleton' character from He-Man on Sunday mornings.

That was it.

So my curiosity was pure. Not fear. Just fascination. I would stay awake at night, waiting.

Would the bathroom light turn on?

Would someone pull my quilt?

I would quietly tiptoe to the kitchen window and look at the banyan tree…hoping to see that mysterious lady that grows!

But nothing ever happened.

Not once.

When I was 10, we relocated to a bigger flat in another staff quarters.

We missed that home deeply. It had been… ours.

Oh but the stories didn’t stop.

We later heard that after we left, the flat remained mostly empty. People who tried staying there experienced the same “famous instances.” And I remember the lil me thinking to myself back then.......“That's not fair!”

Of course, today I laugh at that thought.

And somewhere, I’m grateful....Grateful that I never saw anything. ...Never heard anything.

But still…

Flat D-2 remains one of my favorite stories to tell....

Especially when the night gets quiet.

My sister and me

Flat D-2 had its stories… but for us, it was just play with friends, homework, school timetables, and everyday life..