the middle of a noisy lane in Bengaluru stood a faded apartment building called Skyview Residency—which had neither sky nor view.
On the fourth floor lived three things:
1. A freelance graphic designer named Meera.
2. A grumpy orange cat named WiFi.
3.And a doorbell that never worked.
Meera worked from home, which meant she technically had "freedom" but also hadn't changed out of pajamas since Tuesday.
One Monday morning (which already felt illegal), her internet stopped working.
WiFi the cat looked personally offended.
"This is your fault," Meera told him.
WiFi blinked slowly, a creature with no job and no responsibilities.
She rushed downstairs to complain to the building's self-appointed "Tech Expert," Raghav from Flat 203.
He wasn't actually a technician—he just once fixed a mixer grinder and now everyone believed in him.
Raghav opened the door holding a screwdriver like a superhero prop.
"Internet down?" he asked calmly.
"How did you know?"
"Your face says 'buffering.'"
They climbed to the terrace where a jungle of wires fought for survival. The router box hung like it had lost hope.
Raghav squinted. "Hmm."
Meera panicked. "What does 'hmm' mean? Is it expensive-hmm or easy-hmm?"
"Dramatic-hmm," he said.
He tapped a cable. Nothing.
He adjusted something. Still nothing.
Then WiFi the cat—who had followed them dramatically—stepped on a loose plug.
The router lights blinked alive.
Meera and Raghav froze.
The cat yawned.
"So," Raghav said slowly, "your cat just fixed the internet."
Meera crossed her arms. "He freelances too."
From that day on, Raghav started coming upstairs more often. Sometimes to "check the signal." Sometimes to borrow sugar. Once to return a spoon he never borrowed.
Meera began designing comic strips based on apartment life:
1. The Uncle who waters plants like he's negotiating peace treaties.
2. The Auntie who knows everyone's courier details.
3. The Lift that only works when you threaten to complain.
Her new series was called Flat No. 404: Life Not Found.
It went viral.
One evening, she showed Raghav her latest strip.
In it, a girl with messy hair argues with her cat while a boy with a screwdriver says, "Try turning your life off and on again."
Raghav raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be me?"
"Do you walk around with a screwdriver?"
"…Maybe."
They laughed. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just the comfortable kind that fills small spaces.
Weeks later, during a sudden power cut, the entire building gathered downstairs like confused penguins.
Someone lit candles. Someone blamed the government. Someone blamed Mercury retrograde.
In the dim light, Meera nudged Raghav.
"You know," she said, "if the lights don't come back, at least we have WiFi."
"Your cat?"
"No," she smiled. "Both."
The power returned.
But somehow, something else had quietly switched on.
Not fireworks.
Not violins.
Just two neighbors in a city that never sleeps—finding signal in each other.
And WiFi the cat?
He started charging consultation fees. 🐾
Conclusion :
In conclusion, Flat No. 404 shows that happiness and connection can be found in the simplest moments of urban life. What begins as a small problem—an internet failure—turns into the start of friendship, creativity, and emotional warmth.
The story highlights that in a busy city like Bengaluru, where people often feel isolated, small interactions can build meaningful bonds. Meera not only finds inspiration for her comic series but also discover companionship in the most unexpected way.
Ultimately, the story teaches us that life does not need dramatic events to become special. Sometimes, ordinary days, shared laughter, and simple support are enough to "restore the signal" in our lives.