THE FLATMATE

Before We Begin

The flat at 14/C, Noor Chawl, Dharavi Cross Road, Sion, Mumbai — 400017 — is currently unoccupied.

It has been unoccupied since November 14th, 2023, when the building society asked the landlord, Babulal Parekh, to seal it pending a welfare inquiry.

The welfare inquiry was initiated because a neighbour, Mrs. Sushila Rane of 14/B, reported that the flat's occupant — one Tanvi Khatri, 26, recently relocated from Nagpur, employed as a junior copywriter at a digital marketing agency in Bandra — had not been seen in eleven days, and that there were sounds coming from the flat at night that she did not want to describe in the written complaint but would describe in person to any official who came to investigate.

No official came.

Tanvi Khatri was eventually located at Lokmanya Tilak Municipal General Hospital, Sion, admitted on November 14th under circumstances her treating psychiatrist described, in the discharge summary, as "acute dissociative episode with somatic presentation and identity disturbance."

She was discharged in January 2024. She did not return to the flat. She returned to Nagpur.

She has not spoken publicly about what happened in the five weeks she lived at 14/C, Noor Chawl.

What follows is reconstructed from her personal journal, recovered from the flat during the sealing; from WhatsApp messages exchanged with her friend Poorvi Desai, who kept everything; and from the accounts of three neighbours who agreed to speak on condition of anonymity.

The mirror from the flat — a full-length mirror, teak-framed, approximate age unknown, found in the flat when Tanvi moved in — was disposed of by Babulal Parekh in December. He declined to say how or where.

He also declined to say who owned it.

He declined to say who the previous tenant was.

He declined to say a great many things, and the things he declined were, in their refusal, the shape of the story.

Prologue: The First Morning

Tanvi Khatri. Journal. October 9th, 2023. Day 1.

I'm in. Finally.

The flat is smaller than the photos but Mumbai flats always are — you learn to read between the angles. One room, a kitchen that is technically a corner of the room, a bathroom with a geyser that sounds like it has opinions, and a window that looks out onto the chawl courtyard. The window is the best thing. You can see three floors of other people's laundry and one jamun tree and the sky above it, which at seven in the morning is this specific pink-orange that I didn't expect Mumbai to have.

The landlord, Babulal Parekh, left the key under the mat as promised. He didn't come in person. He texted: 'Flat is clean and ready. Any issues call. Welcome to Mumbai.' He has not responded to my follow-up question about the mirror.

There is a mirror. Full-length, teak frame, very old, standing against the wall across from the bed. I didn't ask for it and it wasn't listed in the furnishings. But it's here and it's useful and I'm choosing to count it as a good sign — like the flat came with something.

I looked at myself in it this morning. Just checked. Hair, face, the usual inventory.

The light in here is strange in the morning. The angle of the window, maybe. My reflection looked a little off — the shadows wrong, or the colour of my skin a different tone.

Tired, probably. Long journey yesterday. New city. New flat.

It's fine. Everything is fine. I'm in Mumbai.