‘Just you wait—khasma nu khane!’ threatened Badi Ma, using her choicest expletives. ‘Coming into my kitchen and making such a nuisance. I’ll teach you a lesson!’

As Badi Ma approached, the mouse dived into the tray of potatoes on the trolley, possibly in the hope of better camouflage. Badi Ma ruthlessly overturned the trolley to get at the mouse, but the nimble creature did a neat flip and disappeared through a tiny crack in the floorboards.

Badi Ma turned around and beamed at Jai, rolling pin in hand. ‘See. I scared it away,’ she said triumphantly, dusting the flour off her sari.

Just then, the door opened and Jai’s parents walked in after their day’s work. They took one look at the state of the kitchen and looked askance at the boy and his grandmother.

‘I’ve just been teaching Jai how to make tandoori rotis,’ said Badi Ma matter-of-factly. ‘Every man should know how to cook.’

‘Hmm. Looks like he put up quite a fight,’ said Rajan, surveying the mess.

Jai’s mother opened her mouth to say something, but the words seemed to get stuck in her throat. She gesticulated furiously towards the back of the kitchen. The whole family turned to look. The mouse had resurfaced—this time, having apparently decided to demonstrate its acrobatic skills, using the washing line across the rear veranda as a tightrope.

‘Badi Ma, it’s back!’ cried Jai. ‘You didn’t scare it enough.’

‘Do something, Rajan!’ shrieked Arathi, paralyzed with fear.

Badi Ma picked up her trusty rolling pin once more, but the mouse did a somersault off the washing line, landed deftly on the kitchen counter, scampered to the floor and disappeared under the refrigerator.

Jai watched in grudging awe at the audacity and agility of the creature, both qualities that he secretly wished he had even an ounce of.

‘We’ve never had mice before. Where on earth did that come from?’ asked Rajan.

‘From behind that wall, Papa,’ said Jai.

‘Behind . . . ? Walls are solid cement—mice can’t live there,’ said his father, poking at the plaster. It made a hollow sound. He looked quizzically at his family. Badi Ma took out her rolling pin and banged on the crack. The hollow sound echoed again.

‘There seems to be some sort of cavity or recess here,’ she said. ‘Where’s your toolkit, Rajan?’

‘Do we really have to do this?’ said Arathi, unwilling to deal with more commotion at the end of a long day. ‘Isn’t the place enough of a mess already?’

‘There might be a whole family of mice living there, Arathi. It’s better we address it right away,’ said Rajan.

Arathi looked petrified at the very thought. Five minutes later, having used Rajan’s toolkit for a closer investigation, Badi Ma looked around victoriously. ‘Just as I thought; there’s a hidden compartment behind here,’ she said, ‘which the mice are probably merrily using as a home. My arthritis won’t allow me to put my hand further . . . Rajan, can you check to see how deep it goes?’