I was looking for a job after graduating when I had a chance meeting with Amaresh da, a good friend of my brother. “What are you up to these days?” He barked at me. Amaresh da, a six feet plus bulky man with a Karl Marx beard was a professor of political science with a deep voice.

“Looking for a job.” I replied meekly.

“Are you game for a little adventure while earning a good salary?”

Without thinking much, I replied immediately, “Yes, of course.”

“Well, a distant uncle of mine owns a timber business in MP; he is getting old and being a bachelor has no one to manage his business. He is looking for a young, energetic person to manage his business on a day-to-day basis. He is willing to pay a handsome salary plus boarding and lodging. Check with your parents if they are okay with you going there, then I will talk to him and arrange your meeting.”

There wasn’t much discussion as I had made up my mind on taking up the job. As discussed with Amaresh da, I boarded the train to Jabalpur and reached on Saturday morning, his uncle Sailesh Nandi had sent his jeep and the driver held up a placard with name as I came out of the station. Our destination was Nainpur, about 140 km or 4 hours drive through not-so-good roads, the driver, Ramsaran declared. I got to know that Ramsaran, a hefty 90kg, muscled man was not just the driver but also doubles up as man Friday cum body guard of Sailesh Nandi.

The sawmill of Sailesh Nandi was huge spread over 5 acres; three huge machines were busy in chopping and searing the logs in the front of the gated complex while a bungalow at the rear portion with its own garden stood elegantly. I liked the place immediately.   

Ramsaran took my bag and asked me to follow him to the bungalow. We found Sailesh Nandi sitting in his office on the ground floor of the bungalow. Sailesh Nandi was nowhere near his nephew Amaresh physically, he was just a little over five feet, plump with a protruding paunch and receding hairline. He was wearing a finely starched white dhoti with half sleeve kurta, an attire he wore daily. After the pleasantries and tea-snacks, Sailesh said, “Amaresh spoke very highly of you. I like your personality and your willingness to leave home at this young age to work here. I will pay you a salary of Rupees Two Thousand Five Hundred plus free boarding and lodging. I hope it is acceptable to you.”

Acceptable? It was beyond my dreams. In the mid-eighties, this salary was princely sum plus the free accommodation and food. Moreover, in Nainpur, there was no scope of spending a rupee on entertainment or food, it was a dead town in those days with few other sawmills and sundry industries. I agreed immediately and Ramsaran guided me to my residence, a corner room on the first floor next to Sailesh Nandi’s. It was a large room with a huge ornated bed that you see in movies or in the homes of zamindars, a study table with a chair, an easy chair by the window, few paintings or prints adorned the otherwise empty walls. In the corner next to the bed was another ornate wardrobe. Ramsaran put my suitcase next to it and said, “Sir, you freshen up and come to the office then I will show you around the estate and appraise you about the functioning. You will get to meet the other staff also.”

The ground floor had furniture to seat guests and a really large dining table that can seat 16 people at a go. There were 8 rooms of which 6 were for the staff accommodation, one was the office of Sailesh Nandi where I met him and the last one was the general office. Ramsaran joined me in the hall and introduced me to the staff and then we went out to check the sawmills and the rest of the estate.

In the evening, Sailesh came in my room with a local lady and said, “This is Lata, our cook cum washing lady, you can give your laundry to her for washing. She lives in the outhouse.”

The lady went away, Sailesh Nandi sat down on the desk chair and said, “I have made lots of wealth in my lifetime. Nowadays, I don’t enjoy the rigours of the business. Once you are able to manage it on your own, I will go on a pilgrimage.”

It took me few days to understand the business and then I introduced few things that helped in production of timbers as well as business. Most of the transactions were cash only, so every evening, I would tally the accounts and hand over the cash to Sailesh Nandi who would put the money in a large trunk next to his bed. The cheques were deposited in the only bank in the town, next day morning.

After three weeks in the job, I had mastered the function of an Estate Manager, and from the demeanor of Sailesh Nandi, I assumed, he was happy with my work. I have checked the customer track record and ensured all long pending dues are recovered and thereafter credit was extended to only a few big buyers with good track record of payments, rest were all on cash payment.

One day, Sailesh Nandi came to my room with Ramsaran following him a trunk.

“You don’t need to handover the cash everyday to me, here’s the trunk for you to keep the cash and we will sit once a month and reconcile.”

Three months passed without any incidents, life was running like a machine, at times boring for a boy in his early twenties. I had sent almost the entire salary to my mother, keeping just about five hundred rupees with me and all that had remained intact in the absence of any avenues to spend. Then something happened that changed the course of my life altogether.

It was a Sunday and the cook had made mutton curry after a long while and that prompted me to overeat. The full tummy and the cloudy weather made me sleepy in the afternoon. I had a unusually long slumber and got up late. There were thundershowers outside, the sawmills had stopped working but the weather had become pleasantly cool.

That night, I had difficulty in sleeping and lay awake listening to the roars of the clouds and the incessant drumming of the rains on the tin-shades of the warehouse. The occasional lightening would create a psychedelic effect in the room. In one such instant, I thought I saw a man leaning on the window grill, looking inside the room. I focused my torch on the window but no one was there. I dismissed the thought to be an illusion. I did not tell anyone, lest they laugh at me.

In the morning, the Sun showed up but the ground remained muddy due to overnight rain. The day was spent in segregating the dry logs for the sawmills and ensuring dry timber boards are quickly delivered to the customers. During monsoon, there’s a menace of snakes as well, so everyone gets in their room after sunset. Coming to my room, I tallied the accounts and deposited the money in the trunk. While working, I had a feeling that I have been watched by some invisible eyes and invariably I would look at the window but it was just the window.

After dinner, I prepared to sleep and as an afterthought closed the window and covered it with the curtain. The weather was cool and the ceiling fan distributed the air equally in the room. I slept soundly only to be awakened with the shaking of the bed. I thought it to be earthquake and jumped out of the bed. The shaking stopped immediately. I went out of the room to check on others but everyone was sleeping in their rooms including Shailesh Nandi in the next room. I was puzzled, was that really an earthquake or was I dreaming? I decided to check in the morning during breakfast.

“Anyone felt the earthquake last night?” I asked.

“Earthquake? What are you talking about? There hasn’t been an earthquake in this area in the last 50 years. This is one of the safest places as far as earthquake is concerned.” Ramsaran opined.

“My bed shook violently; I jumped out of the bed and the shaking stopped.” I spoke, a bit unsure.

The staff at the table looked at each other, there face turned a bit concerned but nobody spoke. Sailesh Nandi had come to the table and asked what we were talking about. After listening to me, he said, “If it happens again, wake me up, I am next door to you.”

I woke up in the middle of night with great discomfort in breathing, it felt as if someone is pressing a pillow on my face, trying to kill me. Collecting all my wits, I sat up on the bed and just then the bed started shaking violently like a boat on the high seas. I was frightened and tried to shout but only a feeble shriek came out. I clanged on to the headpost of the bed for what seemed eternity. Finally, a chilly breeze brushed past me and the shaking of the bed stopped. I rushed out of the room and banged on the door of Sailesh Nandi.

“I can’t stay in that room.” I blurted out as soon as Sailesh Nandi opened the door.

“Calm down, come inside and tell me what happened.”

I explained the nightmare I just experienced. He listened thoughtfully and then said, “Look, the other rooms are not opened for ages, in fact since the time I bought this place, it will take time to make any of the other room habitable. Tonight, you sleep with me, this bed is big enough to accommodate both and tomorrow I will ask Ramsaran to sleep outside your room just in case you need him.”

The following night, Ramsaran came with his beddings to sleep outside my room but I insisted that he sleep inside the room, a decision, I regrated later.

I fell asleep easily knowing that I have a strong protection in the form of hefty Ramsaran. He regularly exercised and did weight lifting developing strong body muscles. Ramsaran decided to sleep near the window just in case someone tries to break-in from there.

I have always been a light sleeper, the commotion in the room woke me up, in the feint light coming from outside, I saw Ramsaran writhing in pain holding his neck, a garbled choking noise coming out from his throat. In those crucial moment I had a brain freeze, sat on the bed like zombie watching life snuffing out from the body of Ramsaran. Suddenly, a strong gust of chilly wind hit me like a bulldozer and threw me on the bed. I regained my senses and rushed towards Ramsaran but it was too late, his lifeless body lay still. I staggered out of the room shrieking hysterically. The entire residence woke up and joined me on the corridor. I pointed my finger towards my room and blabbered, “Ramsaran is dead. A spirit killed him.”

Some of them went inside to check and came out saddened. Sailesh Nandi spoke in a hushed tone, “Oh no, not again. Have to inform the police.” He went down to his office to make the phone call. We followed him. All of us waited in the hallway till the police came in the early hours of morning.

Inspector Dinanath Dwivedi, a veteran close to retirement had several postings in Nainpur Police Station and knew Sailesh Nandi very well. He went through with regimental accuracy interrogating everyone present, thoroughly examined the room for a clue but there was none. The body of Ramsaran bore no external injury mark except bleeding from the nose and mouth.

“So, young man, tell me exactly what happened in that room?” Inspector asked me.

I narrated the incidences of the last three days culminating in the death of Ramsaran.

“Hmmn, this is the third instance and all the victims died in similar manner.” He spoke facing Sailesh Nandi who was sitting next to me.

“What do you mean, the third instance?” I asked,

“Well, the first one happened many years ago, the estate manager was found dead on the bed, apparently died of asphyxia with bleeding nose. I was a rookie sub-inspector then, we did extensive investigation to find the culprit but nothing was found. We had to close the case as a sudden cardiac arrest, a natural cause of death. It aligned well as the manager was in his mid-fifties, a age range with many such instances.” The inspector stopped to take a sip of the tea, served by Lata to everyone present in the room.

“The second incident happened three years ago, a young man, probably your age or little older, came here from Bengal to work as an estate manager. He was found dead with his head smashed against the bedpost. He had barely completed one in the job. There were no sign of any struggle and the door was locked from inside. Again, we did a thorough investigation and what we found can’t be explained scientifically, it defies all logic.” He took few more sips of the tea and kept aside the empty cup.

“Our investigation revealed that Mr. Nandi had bought this estate from a certain Kishori Lal on a as is where is basis, meaning, he bought the house with all the furniture and fixtures including one existing sawmill at a price below the prevailing market price. Why, Mr. Nandi, wasn’t that right?”

“Yes, it was well below the then market trend and I thought myself very lucky to seal the deal within three days and getting the possession immediately.” Sailesh Nandi confirmed.

“Well, we found out that this Kishori Lal wasn’t the owner of this property. It belonged to his distant uncle who being a widower without any children of his own had adopted Kishori brought him here from the village. Kishori became greedy and on a fateful night murdered his uncle, probably strangulating him by pressing a pillow on his face. We could not apprehend Kishori Lal as he had fled the country immediately upon selling this property to Mr. Nandi.”

Inspector Dwivedi picked up his empty cup of tea and dejectedly looked around, immediately, Lata brought another steaming cup of tea for him. He took a sip and continued.

“Being in the police and otherwise also, I do not believe in the ghosts or paranormal, but after two inconclusive murders I told Mr. Nandi to get rid of the ornated bed but it seems he did not take my advice. It is your sheer luck that you are alive today, the wrath of Kishori’s uncle fell on poor Ramsaran.”

“I am sorry, I did not heed to your advice then, the bed is very expensive, made out of mahogany wood and hand curved. It is worth at least thirty thousand rupees, but I have learnt my lesson, let’s burn the damn bed, will make it as the last resting place of Ramsaran.” Sailesh Nandi spoke with full emotion.

The cursed bed was brought down and was set as the funeral pyre for Ramsaran. Since, Ramsaran had no family, Sailesh Nandi decided to perform the last rites for him. The entire fraternity of the Nandi Sawmill gathered around in addition to the policemen. After chanting of the mantras, the fire was lit and the morning breeze helped the fire to glow quickly engulfing the pyre made of the bed. No one moved for the next four odd hours till the fire subsided to reveal the ashes of Ramsaran. But surprisingly, nothing had happened to the bed, it remained intact, not even any burn mark. The raging fire could not destroy the bed; the evil spirit will not allow it to be destroyed.

And that was when I decided to leave Nandi Sawmill and the town of Nainpur, the nightmare I experienced shall remain etched on my memory till the last day.