Four Rooms, Four Realities - By Dr. Radhika Janakiram

Written By: Dr. Radhika Janakiram

Category: Short Story

Competition: Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the evocative short story "Four Rooms, Four Realities," Dr. Radhika Janakiram presents a captivating narrative that delves into the intricate lives of four individuals residing in an aging apartment building. This entry in the Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 explores themes of isolation, fear, and the unexpected connections that bind us. Through her skillful storytelling, Dr. Janakiram invites readers to contemplate the complexities of human existence and the realities that often remain hidden behind closed doors.

About the Work

"Four Rooms, Four Realities" is a poignant exploration of human emotion and the silent battles waged behind four apartment doors. Dr. Janakiram crafts a narrative rich with introspection and vivid imagery, capturing the underlying fears and desires of her characters. The story's mood shifts from isolation to connection, revealing how darkness can dissolve pretenses and foster unexpected camaraderie. The narrative's subtle yet powerful message invites readers to reflect on the multifaceted nature of human experience.

Four rooms, Four realities

Original Submission by Dr. Radhika Janakiram

The old apartment building on Suryanagar Road stood like a weary spectator of human existence. Its peeling paint resembled wrinkled skin, its staircase groaned like trapped memories, and the corridor lights flickered as though struggling between survival and surrender. Inside those ageing walls lived four people close enough to hear one another’s footsteps, yet worlds apart in their minds.

Arjun, a successful entrepreneur, lived in Room 101. His flat was drenched in luxury trophies, imported sculptures, and designer furniture stood like silent witnesses to his triumphs. Yet, his world was a polished cage. Every night, as he stared at the ceiling, his mind churned like an overworked engine. For all his wealth, sleep escaped him. Peace was a stranger. The quiet of his room did not comfort him; it accused him. Success, he feared, was a castle built on sand one wrong move, and everything would crumble.

Next door, in Room 102, lived Maya. Her space smelled of lavender, fresh books, and carefully curated dreams. She smiled often, spoke kindly, and radiated optimism. But when the door closed behind her, silence pressed against her skin like a weight. She did not fear failure she feared being unseen. Every achievement, every pleasant evening felt incomplete, like applause in an empty auditorium. Her solitude had grown roots inside her, transforming the quiet into a mirror she was afraid to look into.

Farther down the corridor was Imran’s room, Room 203 a modest space with peeling paint and a stubborn leak near the window. He was a schoolteacher of little means but abundant inner calm. His peace came not from life, but from acceptance of life. He fed pigeons at dawn, read poetry, and found music in ordinary things. Yet beneath his serenity lay a quiet anxiety: he could not afford repairs for his crumbling room or proper care for his aging parents. Contentment is powerful, but poverty has a way of knocking on the door even when one refuses to answer.

At the corridor’s farthest end, in Room 309, lived Kavya. Her room was sparse a thin mattress, a flickering bulb, and a single metal table. Her life was a relentless struggle against exhaustion. She worked two jobs, carried unspoken worries like invisible bruises, yet she possessed one priceless thing: Sahana a friend who arrived like a breath of fresh air in a suffocating room. Sahana did not solve her problems, but she made them bearable. Sometimes, companionship tastes like wealth.

THE DARKNESS

One humid evening, the electricity snapped off with a sharp click. Fans stilled, lights vanished, and the corridor dissolved into shadow. Four doors opened, one after another, releasing their occupants into the same dark space.

Arjun emerged first, irritated, his restlessness exposed now that there was nothing to distract him. Maya followed, holding a candle whose flame trembled like her unspoken fears. Imran appeared with a flask of tea his answer to every crisis while Kavya stepped out with Sahana, grateful for an excuse to escape her room’s heat. They formed an awkward circle. At first, the conversation drifted like the candle’s flame small, cautious, unsure. But darkness has a strange power: it dissolves pretenses. In the absence of light, people stop performing.

Their confessions began quietly.

Arjun spoke first.

“I have money, but I’ve forgotten how to breathe,” he admitted. His voice cracked not from weakness, but from relief.

Maya whispered,

“I have calm days and ordered thoughts, but no hand to hold. Sometimes the silence feels louder than any scream.”

Imran sighed.

“I have peace, yes… but peace shivers when poverty stands at your doorstep. I want to give more than I can.”

Kavya stared at the candlelight before speaking.

“I have nothing except her,” she said, nodding at Sahana. “Some days, that feels like enough. Other days… I’m not so sure.”

Their words hung heavily in the darkness.

Suddenly, each of them saw something unsettling:

Arjun envied Imran’s calm.

Maya longed for the companionship Kavya possessed.

Imran envied Arjun’s possibilities.

Kavya wondered if she would ever experience a life that didn’t hurt.

Each had something. Each lacked something.

The power returned abruptly, flooding the corridor with harsh light. But the light, instead of comforting them, felt almost intrusive as if it had exposed more than it illuminated. Something fragile had cracked open in that shared darkness.

AFTER THE DARKNESS

Days passed. Their worlds didn’t transform, but their boundaries shifted.

Arjun began learning meditation from Imran, and for the first time, sleep visited him without a price.

Maya helped Kavya speak English with confidence, and in doing so, found a voice for her own loneliness.

Kavya and Sahana shared simple meals with the others, discovering that generosity can bloom even in scarcity.

Night after night, the terrace became their meeting place four minds seeking balance, four hearts searching for what the others seemed to possess.

Their rooms remained the same.

But their realities began to overlap.

One evening, as they sat together under a clouded sky, the lights flickered again.

This time, no one moved.

Arjun stared at the horizon and asked quietly,

“Do you think we ever truly get what we need?”

No one answered.

The fans stopped. The lights went out. Darkness returned gentle, expectant, familiar.

They looked at one another; four silhouettes suspended in uncertainty.

Was the darkness a curse, or an invitation?

No one knew.

The night held its breath.

And somewhere, in the silence between them,

the answer was still waiting to be found.

About the Competition

The Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar showcases diverse voices and stories from around the globe. It provides a platform for writers to share their unique perspectives and creativity. The competition celebrates the art of storytelling, encouraging participants to explore and express the depths of human emotion and imagination through their written work.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Dr. Radhika Janakiram for sharing "Four Rooms, Four Realities" with us as part of the Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Her narrative offers a profound exploration of human connection and introspection, leaving readers with much to ponder. We appreciate her contribution and the thought-provoking insights she brings to the competition.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.