There was a time when I was into field sales operation and had to do extensive travelling across the north and eastern part of the country. When doing upcountry areas, I used to utilise the nights for travel as the airconditioned train berths were more comfortable than the local hotel rooms. This is the story narrated by a total stranger I met at the station while waiting for my train.

I was at the Sambalpur station waiting for my overnight train to Kolkata (then Calcutta), the sun has set in the west and it was getting darker around with few light bulbs flickering on the platform. Most people have left the station for their respective homes. The Station Master informed that there has been a damage on the train tracks which is getting repaired and the down train for Kolkata is delayed at least for an hour. It is difficult to pass time in such gloomy place waiting indefinitely for the train. I bought a cup of tea and a packet of biscuit, sat on a bench, took out the day’s newspaper and tried to read the unread news items.

“Are you Bengali?”

I was startled by the voice and looked up. A very slim darkish old man in dhoti-kurta with a couple of days stubble was looking expectantly at me. Before I could respond, he sat down next to me. I asked, “How did you figure out that I am a Bengali?”

He smiled and pointed to my newspaper and said, “In these parts of the country, newspaper is a rarity and who other than a Bengali would be reading a Bengali newspaper in Odisha?”

The demeanour of the old man seemed amiable and welcome in this otherwise deserted gloomy place. “So, where are you going?” I asked.

“I am going to Bolangir. And you?” he replied.

“I am headed to Kolkata. Came here for official work, in fact this is my first visit to this place. Do you live around this place?” I replied with a counter question hoping to extend the conversation.

The gentleman made himself comfortable on the bench lighting a cigarette he said, “You can say so… it has been almost 50 years I have living in these areas. I came here taking up a job at the wood mill at Sambalpur. I was the manager for sourcing the wooden logs from the jungles.”

I sensed a possibility of exciting stories of the jungle and probed further, “Working in the forest, you must be having many fascinating experiences, tell me some.”

He smiled at me and looked up at the sky probably trying to recall some incidents from the vast repertoire of experience. After a while, he lighted another cigarette taking a long puff and releasing a series of smoke rings, he said, “My life experience is like the epic Mahabharata, won’t finish before your train comes, but I will tell you one particular incident that happened many years ago when I was probably your age.”

It has become quite dark by now, one can hear the cacophony of birds chirping, probably sharing their day’s experience with each other, a goods train with coal loaded is waiting for the go ahead to chug along on its way to some industrial hub. The gentleman began his story…

The incident happened at the Dak Bungalow of Phulbani about 3-3.5 hours from here (Sambalpur). The river Mahanadi flows through Sambalpur which is named after the Goddess Shyamlai, in the middle of the city is the Raja Hills on the summit of which is the famous Mahadev Temple that attracts pilgrims from across the state. Our factory and warehouse was very close to the railway station, the logs were cut into different shapes as per requirement and delivered through the railways. I was the overall in-charge of the operation, a general manager… he-he-he…

One day, the owner of the mill, Mr. Ghosh called me urgently to his home in Chakradharpur. He has been bedridden with acute rheumatism and unable to move around. I took the early morning train and reached his palatial bungalow around noon. After freshening up from the tedious journey we sat down for lunch. Mr. Ghosh without any preamble said, “You have to immediately go to Bolangir and meet the Raja Sahib. He is leasing out a jungle in Bolangir and before anyone else approach him, you give him the earnest money and book it for our company. I will personally meet him and deliver the rest of the money once I recover from this pain.”

Next day, I left Chakradharpur with a briefcase full of cash for Sambalpur hoping to catch the train to Bolangir in the afternoon. I still had time in hand for the train to Bolangir so went home to take bath and change into a fresh clothing. The train to Bolangir was on time and I sat down in the first-class compartment which was very scarcely occupied. The train left the station soon and as it picked up the speed, cruising through the newly constructed bridge on the river Mahanadi, I realised that in the hurry I have left my tiffin box on the bed. Now, I will have to eat whatever trash the railway station eateries have to offer, I felt irritated. The picturesque surroundings failed to uplift my mood and I became very hungry as well. At the next station, the train has a stoppage time of 10 minutes, I decided to get down and look for something to eat. The porter informed that there is a food outlet just outside the station.

There were few shanty shops just outside the station and one of them run by a middle-aged lady selling puffed rice with pakora, most of her customers were of labour class… looking at my attire, she gave me preference over others. I picked up a bagful of puffed rice with pakoras and rushed to my train. I was late, the train left me stranded on the platform. It was a terrifying moment for me, being stranded at an unknown place with a briefcase full of money. I went to the office of the station master hoping to find a way out.

Huffing and puffing I blurted out, “You need to help me, Sir. I just missed my train and don’t know this place at all.”

“Where are you going?” the station master looked at me and asked.

“Bolangir” I replied.

“Shivram Ji, you are also going to Bolangir, aren’t you?” the station master asked the middle-aged stocky person sitting across him.

“Yes.” The person named Shivram replied and then looking at me said, “You can come along with me, but we must hurry otherwise it will get dark on the way.”

The station-master smiled and said, “You are lucky because Shivram Ji happened to be here on work otherwise there are no more trains before tomorrow morning.”

I thanked Shivram Ji for accommodating me and followed him to the jeep parked outside the station.  The road was devoid of traffic and Shivram Ji being a seasoned driver cruised along at a decent speed. The constant buzzing noise of the engine and the cool air made me sleepy. I tried to keep awake enjoying the serene surroundings of forested landscape but soon started dozing. I woke up with a start as the vehicle swerved on its side and came to a halt. Shivram Ji got down and cursed, “Tyre puncture” he announced. Then took out the spare tyre and went on to work. It took almost half hour to change the tyre. I looked at the sun setting at the distance and wondered how long it would take to reach Bolangir.

By the time we started our journey again, the sun has set for the day, it was getting darker by the minute. The was nothing to see any more except the darkness and the road ahead in the feint light of the jeep headlights. We had probably driven about 20 km when there was a loud noise from the back of the jeep, Shivram Ji braked hard and the jeep came to a stop, he got down to check with a torch in hand. It was another tyre puncture or rather burst. Usually, there is only one spare tyre in a vehicle and we had already used that… we are now stuck in the middle of nowhere. I started shivering in fear, all around was darkness, the wilderness created an eerie atmosphere.

Shivram Ji focussed his torch towards me and said, “Come with me, there’s Dak Bungalow nearby, where you can spend the night. It is safe and I know the caretaker of the place.”

“What about the vehicle?” I asked feebly.

“Oh, it’s safe, no one will take it.” Shivram Ji assured me.

Even if he was  confident of his vehicle not getting stolen, I was concerned about the huge amount of money in my briefcase. I picked up my overnight bag and the briefcase and followed Shivram Ji. It was difficult to keep pace with him on the rough patch of road and with the luggage in both hands but the fear of unknown made me walk briskly. After walking for about half hour, we saw a white single-story house with lawns around the house. Shivram Ji opened the gate and walked in, I followed suit. Reaching the porch, he called out, “Raghunath, Raghunath.” A little while later, a man came out from the rear side of the building holding a lantern.

“Namaste Babuji, how are you?” Raghunath addressed Shivram Ji with respect.

“Good, my car broke down on the road. My friend will stay overnight here, hope you can arrange a room for him.” Shivram Ji told him.

“Yes Sir, the Dak Bungalow is completely vacant, I will arrange a room for Sahib immediately.” Raghunath responded with sincerity.

Shivram Ji put his hand on my shoulder with assurance and said, “You go and relax, I know Raghunath for a long time, he will take good care of you.”

“What about you? Are you not staying here?” I asked, a little worried.

“I have to return to Sambalpur to new tyres, I will hitch hike a truck and should be back in the morning. You don’t worry, I will take you to Bolangir tomorrow.” He assured me.

“Come Sahib, I will show you the room. What will you like to eat for dinner?” Raghunath asked.

“Whatever, you are having, I will have that only.” I assured him.

The light from the lantern made the surrounding even more eerie and the darkness seemed darker. I could make out that there are a series of rooms along the balcony and we stopped in front of one of them. Raghunath opened the door and ushered me in keeping the lantern on a table. The room was big with a double bed in the centre of the room and a cupboard and study table with a chair at the other end. There was a reclining chair on the other side near the window.

I put my bag and the briefcase inside the cupboard. Raghunath went out in the darkness to prepare for the dinner. A little while later I heard some noise outside, from the window I saw Raghunath taking out water from the well in the lawn. And soon he came into the room and said, “I have brought water for your bath, you freshen up while I arrange for your dinner.”

The water was cold and relaxing, the day’s exhaustion and a simple but tasty food soon made me sleepy, I retired for the night. I don’t know, how long I was sleeping but I suddenly woke up by a sound of Payal coming from the distance. I was a bit groggy waking up suddenly and tried to focus and figure out where I am, slowly remembered that I am at a Dak Bungalow. The noise was getting closer now and I can now make out a female voice seeking help. Soon, there was a knock on my door followed by an appeal, “Please open the door. Those people, chasing, will kill me.” Initially, I thought it was ruse to rob me and decided not to open, come what may. But the voice has started crying now and also there was the sound of mob rushing in, I opened the door. A young girl barged in and closed the door immediately.

“Hey, who are you? Who is following you and why?” I asked and increased the flame of the lantern.

The girl was in her early twenties, decked in extensive gold jewellery as if a Princess is coming from a wedding ceremony. She put her finger on the mouth and whispered, “Don’t speak, they will hear you and come here. I will spend the night here and go away in the morning.”

“Okay, you sleep on the bed, I will rest on this recliner.” I replied.

 I was still sleepy and soon slumbered in deep sleep on the recliner. The constant knocking and calling by Raghunath and Shivram Ji woke me up. The sun was shining bright outside. I got up and looked at the bed, it was empty, the girl was gone. But how, the door is still locked from inside!! I checked the cupboard, my bag and briefcase is still there… I haven’t been robbed.

I opened the door for Shivram Ji, it was clear from his face that he had little sleep at the night. “Come, let’s go, the jeep is all set to roll.” He spoke.

As I was clearing out, I noticed a ring lying on the bed, a red ruby ring… I am certain it was not there when I checked in the room. Did she leave it for me as gratitude for sheltering her last night? I looked at Raghunath and asked, “Did someone else came last night, a young girl?”

“Except you, no one else came last night. I sleep on the veranda Sahib, if anyone had come, I would know” Raghunath replied with sincerity.

“It’s new place for you, probably you had a dream”, chuckled Shivram Ji.

Who was the girl? Why did she leave the ring? How did she go out of the room? The questions kept haunting me throughout the journey.

We reached Bolangir in the morning where I met the Raja Sahib and handed over the money to him. After lunch, sitting in the lounge I noticed life sized portraits hung on the walls all around. I got up to see them up close… a particularly striking image of a young girl caught my attention. “Who is she?” I asked the Estate Manager who had been asked to look after my wellbeing.  

“She is youngest daughter of Raja Saheb, the Pricess Padma. She had gone to a wedding ceremony, while returning, her car broke down on the road near the Dak Bungalow. Some goons saw her and tried to molest her. She ran towards the Dak Bungalow and knocked on the doors for help but no one opened the door, to save her honour she jumped into the well and committed suicide.

Everything became clear to me now, the girl seeking refuge last night was none other than the Princess Padma and the ring… I searched the ring in bag and took it out. “Do you know, who this belongs to?” I asked.

One look at the ring and he shouted, “Where did you get it? This ring belongs to Princess Padma. Look at the back, her name is engraved on it.” He was shivering in excitement and repeated, “Where did you get this ring?”

“Oh, that’s an amazing story…” I replied before leaving for the station.