“Here are your keys!” The property dealer’s agent, dressed in impeccable attire handed her over a set of old keys, she remembered seeing some similar looking keys in an old box in their home’s attic.
“They were from our home Tanya, the one we had in Dehradun.” Her mother has told her.
She knew the story. They were landlords in a small village near Dehradun, a hundred year ago they lost that house and the land, could only gather some solid amount of cash, with that money they bought a house in Bengal, but that too was lost before she was born.
They never tell her the reasons.
She has passed her life till now in rented apartments. Then last week a stranger rang her doorbell.
“You are Tanya Chaturvedi, Daughter of Somraj and Mina Chaturvedi?” The man has asked.
“I am your maternal aunt’s lawyer.” he has continued after getting her answer. “She passed away an year ago, ever since that day we have been trying to locate you. She left you some property in a village near Dehradun.”
“Really?” she was surprised, she never knew she had an aunt, and one that lived near their actual homeland.
“My agent will accompany you to that place and hand over the necessary articles.” the man has shrugged away her curiosity with professional nonchalance.
“What will I do with property in Dehradun?” she asked, half to herself and half to the man sitting opposite her, “I have a steady job here.”
“If you want to sell them, we may try to find you some customers… but before that you will have to go there physically, with documents to prove your ownership and collect the papers from your aunt’s actual lawyer, the man who hired me.”
He left after introducing her to his junior, the man who brought her here and left her after handing her over the key.
The house looked neglected.
She wondered if her aunt has ever spent a single dime on its maintenance.
The gate was sturdy, or else it would have fallen off the hinges. The high wall around the mansion was without a coat of colour, the plaster was falling off in chunks, baring the stones.
The garden was covered with weeds, it was a huge garden with a row of old, gnarly trees on both sides of the road that went to the mansion and some more were scattered around the garden, around the large pond on one side of the road, the other side it seemed was once a garden with rose bushes and lawn, she could see some adamant flowers still trying to bloom.
She started to walk towards the house after the man left, “If you need something call me.” the man has said with a tinge of concern after seeing her “property”.
She was surprised that there was no sign of vandalism or theft.
The garden was scattered with statues, of different types, starting from sandstones to marble.
She knew very well that their price in blackmarket was immense, so why did not anyone steal them?