Irshad’s mother didn’t know that everyday Irshad poured half of his milk into the sink the moment her back was turned. When she turned back, she only saw the empty glass and the tell-tale milk ‘moustache’ on Irshad’s upper lip. This went on for many days, and each evening Irshad made sure the sink got its share of the milk.

One night Irshad was unable to sleep. He got up to get a drink of water. The house was dark and he stumbled into hallway until he reached the kitchen. Just as he was trying to open the door, he thought he heard a voice.
There had been talk of burglars in the neighbourhood. Could it be them? But it was just one voice. But what a fearsome voice that was! Irshad trembled a bit, and wondered if he should call his parents. The voice seemed to be groaning one moment, and then calling out loudly the next.

Then, just as suddenly the voice died down. Irshad was even more confused. What should he do? He decided to check it out on his own. His parents would not be amused if he woke them up and it was nothing at all.

He quietly turned the door handle and stepped inside the kitchen. In the dark, he could barely see anything. He turned to the wall and quickly snapped on the light. Irshad wished he could scream like his sister
Abida.

But he just couldn’t! It was dirty white and had a huge glob for a head. A bigger glob for a body and legs that weren’t even visible! Its eyes were milky white and it looked at Irshad and lurched forward.

Irshad backed and watched in horror as the monster’s head wobbled like caramel custard kept out of the fridge for too long. With every wobble, its features seemed to melt and reform making it absolutely grotesque! Irshad watched the monster close the space between them and he looked around horrified. 

He saw his mother’s rolling pin on the table and grabbed it, brandishing it. The monster stopped and actually looked surprised. 

“I’m your creation!” it said, and Irshad dropped the rolling pin astonished. This… this thing could talk! Its voice was gravelly and it couldn’t seem to pronounce ‘r’. To Irshad it sounded like the monster had said, “I’m youa ceation”. 
Irshad finally found his voice. “Wh-who are you?” he asked. The monster swayed for a moment, a horrible scene where his entire body realigned itself and formed back with a sickening ‘plop’ sound. “I’m the milk monsta,” he said finally. Irshad’s eyes went round. What?
The monster suddenly
started crying big milky tears. “Stop! What do you want?” he asked. The monster wiped its face with the back of its hand, and in the process, half of its face got wiped out, and then again reformed. 

“Milk. I want milk. You didn’t give me any milk today.”

Irshad was puzzled. “Where did you come from?” he asked the monster, wondering if what he was thinking could actually be possible! 

“From the sink! I live thea. I was bon thea. I want milk!” the monster said. “You didn’t give me milk today.”
Irshad remembered that today for some reason, his mother kept talking to him after giving him his glass and he had to distastefully gulp down every single drop. He hadn’t been able to throw the milk in the sink.

So…did that mean, this monster had come out for milk. And he was the creator of this monster? The thought was scary. 
The monster swayed again and shouted at Irshad. “I want milk!”

Feeling frightened Irshad
realised that throwing away milk in the sink hadn’t been a good idea. The monster lurched forwards and tripped on the stool. With a thud, it fell down and scattered into millions of droplets.

Was it…was it gone then?
Irshad watched with horror as the droplets came back together and formed the monster again, straight from a scene from Terminator II, his favourite movie!
He quickly poured a glass of milk and handed it to the monster. It tried to take the glass but couldn’t. The glass kept slipping from its huge, squishy hands. “Poa it in my mouth” it ordered Irshad.

“How?” Irshad asked, “You’re so tall. I can’t reach you.” Irshad had a sudden inspiration then. “Why don’t you get back into the sink, and I’ll pour the milk there?”

The monster lumbered back to the sink and squeezed its huge bulk down the sink. The moment it disappeared, Irshad realised he had to do something. He hunted out the bottle of disinfectant. Feeling almost cruel, he poured nearly half the bottle down the sink, muttering, “Sorry milk monster”. He thought he heard a faint scream, but he wasn’t sure. 

Locking up the kitchen again, he ran back to his bed. In the morning, when he got up, he wondered if he had dreamed up everything. Yes. It must have been a dream. He walked into the kitchen and saw his mother looking angry. 

“Irshad Ahmed. What did you think you were doing in my kitchen last night?”

Irshad looked at the mess. There were huge blobs of milk on the floor, on the sink, everywhere! And there was a glass of milk sitting on the table where Irshad had poured it out. 

“I didn’t do anything mom,” Irshad protested. His mother refused to believe him and she gave him a no-TV-for-2-weeks punishment. Of course, there was no way Irshad was pouring any milk down the sink after this incident. You had better not either!