“Lady in the Red Sari”

In the bustling city of Mumbai, late-night public transport is often a lonely affair. Among the drivers, whispers of the "Lady in the Red Sari" send shivers down their spines.No one knows exactly who she is or how she came to be, but her legend haunts the dimly lit streets. Some say she is a wandering spirit, eternally vigilant, safeguarding the weary travelers of the night. Others claim she is the very soul of the city, watching over the secrets that unfold after the sun dips below the horizon.

On a fateful evening, a young driver named Arjun found himself navigating through the winding streets. The night was thick with fog, so dense that even the streetlights struggled to pierce through. As he listened to the rhythmic hum of the engine, a chill ran down his spine. Suddenly, he felt a strange presence. Glancing at the rearview mirror, his eyes widened as he spotted her. The Lady in the Red Sari sat quietly in the backseat, her brilliant fabric contrasting sharply with the shadows of the vehicle. But she didn’t turn to face him. Her gaze was fixed outside, her head angled as if she were watching the world pass by.

Arjun's heart raced; he was in a city that never slept, yet her eerie silence pierced the air. He couldn't help but ask,

 “Where to, ma’am?”

No reply. Just the soft whisper of the night outside. As he drove on, he noticed the temperature drop, the fog thickening further around them. A sudden thought struck him: No one ever saw her get on; she simply appeared. Hours seemed like minutes, and soon, he found himself at a desolate spot, far from the city’s pulse. He turned to glance again, a mixture of curiosity and dread swelling in his chest. But to his horror, the backseat was empty. The Lady in the Red Sari had vanished, leaving only the faint scent of jasmine lingering in the car—an ethereal reminder of her presence.

As he drove away, a shudder crept over him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still with him, her eyes forever watching from the shadows, silently judging the choices he made in the dim streets of Mumbai.From that night on, Arjun never drove alone at night again, for he understood that some spirits are not meant to be questioned, only respected. And the Lady in the Red Sari continued her nightly vigil, a timeless guardian of the darkness.