It had taken over the room for two weeks now, Zoeb sat in the passage, waiting for It to vacate.

When his mum would return at night, he would run up to her and complain, 'I want to go to my room, I want to play with my toys!' He would then look up at her with his squinted eyes and a wrinkled nose; Zoeb would look angry.

Mum was a broad, strong-built woman, she  would occupy the whole passage, she would look down at Zoeb, stare at him. Mum was tired, it had been two weeks. 'You will soon, dearest. Right now, keep away.' Her voice would be low, soft, exhausted. She would walk him to the kitchen, sit him on the ground, ruffle his hair.

Zoeb would look up at her. His eyes would be round and wide, his mouth puckered. Zoeb was really the most adorable kid I had ever seen.

That night, Zoeb did not keep away. Mum snored away in the night.. Zoeb came undone, from under her arms.

What was It? Wasn't It hungry?

If only Zoeb had known, It was hunger.

Everyday at eight in the morning, Zoeb would leave for school with his mum. After school he walked to Abdul's house. He stayed there till Abdul took him back to his mum, to his house, but not to his room. :(

Two weeks ago, 16th of Safar, Abdul did not take him back home. Zoeb stayed the night.

Since then, something had gripped his room, Zoeb used to call it 'play-room'.
The light bulbs in that part of the house were broken, the door was sealed, and the silence — wasn't alive anymore. It was dead; the room was dead. The doorwall — grey coloured — seemed to be telling him exactly what his mother had said, 'Keep away'. Zoeb couldn't keep away.

He pulled down the doorknob, pushed it open. The room smelled. It stank of salty sweat, and salty vapours; salty, salty liquids. His playroom did not have a bed, it had a cupboard of toys, it had a red chair, and a red table. Zoeb saw it, he saw a bed. Its silhouette glaring at him.

Mum tagged behind, she pulled him away. The door was locked again.

I think, it must have been ten months from then, when the town would cackle, and wail, and coo, that Zoeb would realise, his room was a play-room, not just for him.