The Days Before “Seen at 9:32 PM”
It was 1994.
A time when phones were nailed to walls, not carried in pockets.
A time when Sunday mornings belonged to Ramayan, Friday nights to Chitrahaar, and the biggest tragedy in life was power cut during the final over.
In Shantivana Layout—a peaceful, middle-class society where every house looked exactly like the other—life moved slowly, loudly, and very socially. Doors were always half open. Gossip travelled faster than postmen. And if someone sneezed in Block C, aunties in Block A knew about it before the tissue came out.
Entertainment meant one TV per house, and often, one TV per five houses.
That was how the gang was born.
The Gang of Five
They met every evening at House No. 17, because it had:
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A color TV
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A rotating antenna
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And a father who returned late from office
Ravi – The unofficial leader. Serious, idealistic, always reading newspapers and saying things like,
“We should do something meaningful for society.”
Meera – Sharp-tongued, fearless, and the only one who could silence gossip aunties with one look.
Karthik – The thinker. Quiet, observant, remembered details others forgot.
Anjali – Optimistic, full of energy, believed every problem had a solution… except power cuts.
And then there was—
Munna.
Munna was the comedy character the universe personally designed.
He laughed at his own jokes, tripped on flat roads, and once tried to fix a TV antenna by talking to it politely. Munna believed he was extremely intelligent. The rest of the society believed… otherwise.
“If common sense were electricity,” Meera often said,
“Munna’s house would be in permanent load shedding.”
One Idea Changes Everything
One hot evening, while waiting for the TV picture to clear (half screen green, half screen ghostly), Ravi suddenly stood up.
“Why are we wasting time just watching TV every day?” he said dramatically.
Munna nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes! Let us watch TV with purpose.”
“No, Munna,” Ravi sighed. “I mean—we should do something for society.”
That caught everyone’s attention.
“What kind of something?” Anjali asked.
Ravi unfolded a carefully folded newspaper clipping.
‘Local children lack access to books and guidance’
“We can start evening classes,” Ravi said.
“Free tuition. Help kids. Do something good.”
For a moment, silence.
Then Munna raised his hand.
“I can teach mathematics,” he said confidently.
Everyone stared.
“You failed mathematics,” Karthik reminded gently.
“Yes,” Munna replied proudly,
“Which means I know exactly where students get confused.”
Against all logic, the group burst out laughing—and just like that, the plan was born.
Shantivana Evenings Begin
Within days, the gang became local heroes.
Kids gathered every evening. Chalkboards appeared. Chairs were borrowed. Parents smiled proudly. Even the gossip aunties paused their commentary to say,
“At least these children are doing something useful.”
Laughter filled the courtyard. Munna’s teaching methods were… questionable, but entertaining. One day he taught multiplication using mangoes. Another day he forgot the lesson entirely and told a ghost story instead.
Life felt warm. Purposeful. Happy.
Too happy.
The Night Everything Changed
One Tuesday evening, the TV didn’t turn on.
“Power cut?” Anjali asked.
“No,” said Karthik slowly. “Lights are on.”
Then they heard it.
A scream.
Sharp. Sudden. From House No. 24.
The same house where no lights were ever switched off after 9 PM.
The same house where Mr. Krishnamurthy, the quietest man in the society, lived alone.
People ran. Doors opened. Someone shouted for help.
And when the crowd gathered—
Mr. Krishnamurthy lay on the floor.
Not moving.
A small pool of blood near his head.
Munna whispered, voice trembling,
“This… this was not there during Chitrahaar.”
The society that laughed together every evening stood frozen.
And somewhere between fear, shock, and disbelief, Ravi realized—
This was no accident.
Someone in Shantivana Layout was hiding something.
And the gang had just stepped into a mystery far bigger than evening TV and good intentions.
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