Posted on by Aranyascope

Once Upon A Time

Long time ago, at least 30-32 years, an incident happened that left an indelible mark in my memories, it was unbelievable but I being the witness can’t deny it. I am a student of science; I only believe in facts and logic but I couldn’t either disprove or prove it with logic or science. Let me elaborate and you, the reader take the call…

I had just graduated BSc (Hons) from college and as I was fascinated by the image of police, appeared, cleared and joined the police force as Sub Inspector. My first posting was at Digha as the second-in-command of the newly created police station under the SHO Pulak Roy.

In those days, Digha wasn’t like what it is today, yet to become a tourist hotspot, although the govt had decided to make it a tourist attraction and as a first step created a police station having jurisdiction of Digha, Ramnagar and Paniparul and some smaller towns besides the scattered villages. We would often go for a nightly round of the areas right from Ramnagar covering the district. It was mostly peaceful area with a rare fight amongst the neighbours and fewer incidents of theft. I was happy and enjoying my police duties.

I still remember, it was a Saturday and a new moon night, the surroundings were pitch dark, black and the stars were shining bright now but an hour back a heavy downpour has made the tarmacked road even more black. We were returning from Ramnagar to Digha on our nightly round. At the front of the vehicle, I was sitting in the middle between the driver and the SHO, Pulak Babu. At the rear, 4 armed constables were sitting and at least one of them had managed to doze off…snoring lightly. I looked at my watch, the radium dial confirmed the time to be exactly 2 am.  

The headlight of the jeep was cutting the darkness like a hot knife on butter, there was silence in the vehicle except light rhythmic snoring of the constable and sound coming from Pulak Sir as he kept his cigar burning by frequently puffing out the smoke.  

We would occasionally cross a sleepy village waking up the dogs who would bark aloud to warn the residents of our intrusion. The driver was expertly cruising at a decent speed.

Another village came up on the horizon, we will be soon pass by it waking up another set of street dogs. Suddenly, we saw a man standing in the middle of the road with raised hands as if asking us to stop. The driver angrily honked to make him clear the route but the man stood to his ground. As we close on the man, we could see that he was a villager in simple clothing. The driver stopped the jeep very close to him. Pulak Sir got out, irritated, about to admonish the man but before he could, the man started howling hysterically, “Murder… murder, Sahib, please come quickly before they run away.” The voice of the man sounded like it was coming from far although his lips were moving in sync.

Pulak Sir raised his hands to signal him to stop and asked, “Where, who has been murdered?”

I was observing the man, his eyes seemed absolutely still, cold and stoned, expressionless.

Without answering Pulak Sir, he said, almost whispering, “Come with me Sir, quickly, they might be at home still. Come quickly, follow me.” The man walked towards the village through the wild growth with ease, we followed him but strained to keep pace with him. The constables followed behind us while the driver remained with the jeep.

Pulak Sir whispered to me, “The man seems mysterious, be careful.” I was a bit shocked, as Pulak Sir spelt out my own thoughts. I took out my revolver and signalled the constables to be watchful and ready with their weapons. Pulak Sir had got the name of the man… Madan, a resident of the village.

The man continued through the path ignoring the obstacles and the muds created by recent downpour.

“Are you planning to murder us?” Pulak Sir asked Madan, sarcastically.

“What are you saying Sir? I am not capable of killing even a mosquito. Look we are here at the spot.” Madan pointed towards a banana tree and said, “Below that banana tree is the dead body. They have buried the body here couple of hours ago.”

“Who are they?” Pulak Sir demanded to know.

“They are 4 of them.”

“Please say the name of those people.” Pulak Sir asked, visibly irritated by Madan’s evading answer.

“Here Sir, below this tree.” I focussed my torch, the tree seemed to have been planted recently, the trunk of the tree is not firmly aligned with the ground and recent rain has loosened the soil around it. There were marks of footsteps and chunks of salt on the ground as well.

“Shall I dig out the body?” Madan started digging with his bare hands without waiting for the answer.

“What are you doing? Stop it. We will come back in the day time with proper equipment and witnesses and dig out the body.” Pulak Sir said. Madan stopped digging.

“You tell me the name of the culprits.” Pulak Sir asked again.

Instead of naming the murderers, Madan showed sudden urgency, “Please come with me Sir, they are still inside the house.” He was probably afraid that the culprits will run away.

Pulak Sir asked two of the constables to stay near the banana tree and rest to follow him.

“No need for them to stay here, I will ensure no one comes here.” Madan assured.

We followed Madan through the zigzag path of the village, one or two dogs barked after being disturbed of their sleep. Madan stopped in front of a single storey house pointing to it, he said, “They are all inside that room, all four of them.”

Pulak Sir signalled the constables to take guard around all the exits of the house. I went up to the door and knocked, “Open the door, you are surrounded by the police.” I could hear noises coming from inside the room, probably the goons are getting armed. I kicked the door open and entered along with Pulak Sir and Madan. There were four of them with knife and machete ready to attack us… but, wait a minute, they dropped their weapons at the sight of Madan and surrendered. The constables had the four men handcuffed.

“Let’s go and dig out the body.” He said looking at Madan.

We reached the spot where the banana tree was loosely placed on the ground leaning on the shoulder of another tree. “Madan, we need a mason to dig the soil and a witness as well.”

“No problem, Sir, I will go and get the mason and the Sarpanch for the witness.” Madan said and walked quickly into the darkness.

After a while, a man came with a spade, “Madan sent me to dig.”

“Where’s Madan?”

“He has gone to call the Sarpanch, Jagdish Babu.”

“He should not run away; we will need him to file the case.” Pulak Sir thought aloud.

“What case Sir?” asked the mason.

“You dig carefully. We have to take out the dead body in one piece.”

“What dead body Sir? I won’t touch any dead body at this hour.” The mason cried out.

“If you don’t dig out the body, I will put you in jail along with them.”

Reluctantly, the mason started digging again. Meanwhile, the eastern skies had lighted up indicating the imminent sunrise. Suddenly, the mason croaked unfathomable words and fainted.

At that very moment Jagdish Babu came panting, “Madan said that someone has been murdered and sent me here to identify the body.”

He looked at the dug out dead body, “O hell, what am I seeing?” He rubbed his eyes sharply and said, “This is the body of Madan… but how is that possible… he came to my house… I spoke to him…” He sat down overwhelmed by the turn of the event.

The murderers turned towards Pulak Sir and cried, “Please lock us up at the police station, Sir. Otherwise, the spirit of Madan will kill us. We admit to murdering him in a fit of anger.”

I still vividly remember the above incident even after so many years. I still don’t believe in paranormal but how do I explain what happened in a remote village of Digha…

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Notice

Gobindo Babu was sitting by the river Ganges when he saw his long serving servant dressed in all whites, fresh clean shirt and dhoti and wearing a white cap walk by him. The servant smiled at him as he passed his master. Gobindo Babu suddenly remembered that his servant had died recently. He called him, “Hey, you died recently, isn’t it? Am I hallucinating?”

“Yes Sir, there is no confusion, I am your deceased servant. I am now a Yamdoot. You see that person taking bath in the river, he will drown in a moment. I have come to take him with me.”

“Do Yamdoot wear such all-white dress? I thought they wear black clothes. You are joking with me.”

“The real Yamdoots wear this white uniform only.”

“You have been with me for many years, I have taken care of all your needs, hope you remember that. Can you do me a favour?”

“Yes Sir, you have been a benevolent master, how can I forget that? What favour do you want?”

“You will let me know in advance when my time on earth is nearing the end.”

“Okay Sir, I will let you know well in advance.” The servant said and took the drowned man with him.

Many years passed, Gobindo Babu, always at peace knowing that his ex-servant will let him know in advance of his death. His wife would often ask him to get the house renovated, or go on a pilgrimage but would always reply, “What’s the hurry, I will do all those things before I die. I am not dying any time soon, so relax.”

One day, Gobindo Babu woke up in the middle of night to find his servant in same white uniform standing by his bed. The servant was smiling at him. “When will you come to take me? I will finish all my pending works by then.” Gobindo Babu asked.

“I have come to take you now.” The servant replied with a smile.

Gobindo Babu got angry at his servant and shouted, “You rascal, didn’t I ask you to tell me in well in advance, the date you come to take me?”

“Sir, it is not upon me to come at will, I can come only when my current master, Yamraj ji orders me. But we did give you notices periodically, you ignored them.”

“When? How?”

“Sir, earlier you could eat anything plateful, but can you now? Then, earlier you never needed a specs for reading or otherwise but now need them badly at all times. You also take a handful of medicines morning-evening; you carry a stick while walking lest you fall down, you huff and puff climbing the stairs. All these are notices only which you ignored and now cursing me when I have come to take you with me at the end of your tenure on mother earth.”

Source: An adaptation of a Bengali short story of same name by renowned and respected author Shri Bimal Kar.    

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Tatai

It was end of October, Dr. Atunu Sen on earnest request of Dr. Mohan Lal had joined him and his wife Mrinalini for a weeklong stay at the latter’s ancestral home in Hazaribagh. Atanu himself is an ENT specialist while Dr. Mohan Lal is a renowned cardiologist. They have been friends since college days with many similar likes and habits except one, while Dr. Mohan Lal is a complete atheist, Dr. Atanu is a devout of Lord Vishnu and believes in existence of both god and ghosts. In fact, he is so afraid of the latter that all lights of his home are switched on even when sleeping at night!!

Dr. Mohan Lal’s ancestral home is huge, built on a land parcel of over 3 acres with beautiful landscaped lawns and many fruit bearing trees; the custard apple trees are full with ripened fruits. They got down at the Hazaribagh station, a 10-15-minutes’ walk to the home of Dr. Mohan Lal. The station road seemed narrower than the actual because of the vendors occupying the space on both sides of the road with their fares of vegetable, fruits and other home utilities. Behind the line of these vendors were other shops selling meat, fish and eggs. Mrinalini bought vegetables and fruits while Dr. Mohan Lal went to the meat shop buy chicken and fish.

Mrinalini handing over two bags of veggies and fruits to Atanu commented, “We will have to come here every morning to pick-up fresh vegetables and fruits.”

“Where else do plan to take us?” Atanu asked.

“We have come here to relax, no running around for next few days. Get charged for the hectic life back home.” Mrinalini replied with all seriousness.

“What about some sightseeing, going to a few touristy spots? Surely you don’t mean that we come here to shop groceries and vegetables only?”

Dr. Mohan Lal joined them, he had overheard their discussions, he spoke, “Atanu, there’s nothing to see here, only relax, eat, drink, walk around and when you get bored, go back home and to your work. And yes, you get to taste the best Jalebi and Rabri, here in this market. We will come back here to have the Jalebi-Rabri.”

The gate was opened by the caretaker-cum-gardener, Ramdas. He took the luggage and the shopping bags inside. There’s an outhouse close to the main building where he lives with his family. All through the year he tends to the lawns and maintains the house very efficiently. The front lawn was blooming with variety of flowers, the riot of colours and the fragrance made the place vibrant. They sat down there while Ramdas brought them tea and cookies.

Once the sun set over the horizon, the surroundings became very silent. In the afternoon, there were sounds of occasional vehicles and hawkers passing through the streets but now nothing, pin-drop silence. Atanu was feeling uneasy, being a city bred boy, he is more accustomed to the constant noise and honking sound of the city streets. He started probing, “What happens if some one is sick? Are there any hospital or clinic nearby?”

“None, there are no hospital or clinic here. People mostly wait patiently for the fever or cough to get over on its own, praying to the Almighty. If the patient becomes critical, they are taken to Dhanbad. Sometimes, doctors from Dhanbad or Ranchi come here to set up Medical Camps. I have heard that there are few young doctors in Ranchi who have formed an association called Ayurdad, who come here once a month to check on the patients and provide medication.” Dr. Mohan Lal informed.

“What about the crime scene? Are there any robbery, theft, murder reported in recent times?”

“Not that I know of, it may happen once in a while but nothing to worry.”

“And wild animals? You had mentioned that the forest is close to this property.”

“Yes, once in a while a fox or a leopard do stray over from the forest but nobody comes out from their homes at night. You play cricket, football, enjoy a picnic style eating out under the sun during the day, get inside after sun down, enjoy your drink, sing and dance, enjoy hearty dinner and sleep.”

Atanu looked outside through the glass pane of the window, he could see the half-moon behind the eucalyptus trees. The feint moonlight made the atmosphere a bit eerie, he felt goosebumps. Dr. Mohan Lal has been watching his friend and couldn’t resist teasing him, “Oh, I forgot to mention, you know, most of the houses are owned by people who have business or occupation in the cities like Dhanbad, Ranchi, Patna or even Kolkata, they come here once in a while, most of the time, houses are unoccupied, an ideal situation for the ghosts and spirits to inhabit.”

“Please don’t make jokes about ghosts. You know, I am scared of such things.”

“Then, I am sure they will show up to you.” Mrinalini teased Atanu.

“You mean, they exist in this house too?” Atanu was quite shaken.

“We have come after almost five years, the house was unoccupied, there’s a strong possibility that some of them may have taken shelter here.”

Atanu looked at Mrinalini and Dr. Mohan Lal suspiciously, he couldn’t make out if they’re serious or joking. He called out to Ramdas who came immediately.

“Are there ghosts here? And dacoits?”

“Dacoits don’t come here because there are hardly any tourists coming these days and locals don’t possess enough wealth to attract dacoities. They have gone away to other more lucrative areas. But yes, I have heard of paranormal activities in the vicinity. Sahib, you don’t worry, this house doesn’t have any spirits, good or bad.”

“The ghosts don’t come here, this area is populated, they prefer solitude. Most of them live on the other side of the forest, in Ratanpur.” Dr. Mohan Lal having heard the conversation, quipped.

Atanu kept the lights on at night, still had a fitful sleep. In the morning after freshening up and having tea-biscuit, they went to the market for fresh veggies and meat. They decided to have their breakfast at the famous Daroga Singh Kachoriwala where the dal-kachori is said to be the best in the region, they also make very crispy jalebi and creamy rabri.

Atanu had just put a piece of Kachori dipped in the aloo-masala when someone from his behind called out, “Hey, Atanu, how are you? When did you come?”

Atanu turned around to find Subroto Babu with his wife Kaberi and son Tatai coming his way.

“We came yesterday only. What about you, when did you come?”

“We have been here for a week now and getting bored. Nothing to see around, thinking about going back now. How long do you plan to stay?”

“We are here for another 4-5 days at least.”

“Thank God, let’s meet up for lunch or dinner, it would be nice to catch up… please share your mobile number, I will call you.”

“Yes, please give your mobile number, in case of any emergency, we can call someone we know.” Kaberi who was listening to their conversation, spoke up.

“Where are you putting up?” Atanu asked avoiding giving his number.

“We are just behind the forested area at Ratanpur, my grandpa’s house. It’s a 3-story big house in green and yellow colour façade. Why don’t you come with us now?” Kaberi informed.

“Sorry, I can’t come right now, I am with my friends but will come some other day.”

“Then give your number, I will call you to fix for lunch.” Subroto insisted.

Atanu had no option but share his mobile number with Subroto. They went away in their Suzuki Ciaz. Dr. Mohan Lal who has been listening to their chat, asked, “Who were they?”

“Oh, they are my neighbour back home.”

“You shouldn’t have given your number to them.” Mrinalini said but did not elaborate further.

“Yes, but he was insistent, wants to call me over for lunch at their house. It is strange because back home, they keep to themselves, not very friendly with the neighbours.”

“Where are they staying?”

“Ratanpur, at Kaberi’s grandpa’s home.”

“OMG, that area is not good, I have heard of many paranormal instances happening there. You must refuse their invite.” Mrinalini was concerned.

“Shall I tell them?”

“You can, but what’s the point? They probably know and we can’t go there to guard them… moreover, who can guard anyone against the spirits?”

“Let’s not talk about the unknowns. I won’t be able to sleep at night.” Atanu said with a nervous laugh.

“Okay, let’s not talk about them. But I have experienced the presence of the spirit in our house on an earlier visit. I won’t tell you where as we have to stay for few more days.” Dr. Mohan Lal winked at Mrinalini.

“You are a doctor yourself, man of science, why are you afraid of ghosts? Have you ever seen them?”

“Well, the ghosts don’t differentiate between doctors and common man, they attack anyways.”

“Only a female ghost, maybe a Petni or Shakchunni will be after you, they usually speak in nasal tone as they suffer from cold n cough, as an ENT specialist, you are their ideal choice.” Mrinalini teased.

They had a relaxing day, Mrinalini made Chilli Chicken and fish curry with mustard for lunch forcing Atanu to over eat. He slept the entire afternoon.

In the evening, they were chatting when Atanu’s mobile rang. He exclaimed, “It’s Subroto calling, hope he’s not calling me over for dinner now.”

“Brother, I am calling in distress, need your urgent help.” Subroto cried from the other end.

“What happened?”

“My son Tatai is running high fever, since we came back in the morning.”

“Yes, I remember, his eyes were watering and he was coughing too…”

“He has been like that for couple of days…”

“Give him a paracetamol, I will come in the morning but I am not carrying my medical equipment.”

“Have already given him paracetamol but it has had no effect.”

“Sir, please come now and check my son.” Kaberi spoke from behind.

“I don’t know how I can help, we have come here to relax and decided not to bring any medicine or medical equipment, not even my stethoscope. We have no plans to see any patient.”

“Your friend is a doctor too; he probably has a stethoscope.”

“No, even he is not carrying it.”

“Then, can we give him some other medicine?”

“But where will you get the medicine, there are hardly any chemist shop. I suggest, give him another paracetamol and wait for the morning to take him to Dhanbad.”

Subroto agreed and disconnected the phone. However, he called again after an hour or so, “Doctor, Tatai is bleeding from the nose and his temperature is very high. I am very scared.”

“Why?”

“Is it dengue? I have heard it could be fatal if not treated early.”

“It is possible.”

“Please come and check on him.”

“Why don’t you bring him here, you have a car…”

“I can’t, he is bleeding profusely, please come.”

Atanu was confused, “What to do?”

“Tell them to go back immediately, the kid won’t get proper treatment here.” Dr. Mohan Lal advised.

“But Subroto is in dire need, being a doctor, how can I refuse him…”

“It is getting late, how will you go there, we don’t have any vehicle and you are unlikely get a rickshaw to go there at this hour.” Mrinalini said.

“Then you have to pass by the forested area, you may encounter wild animals.” Dr. Mohan Lal added.

“Even if the wild animals don’t attack, the Petni and Shakchunni won’t spare him.” Mrinalini said.

Ramdas, working in the kitchen had heard them, he came out and said, “Saheb, I will take you there, I know the house quite well.”

“All the best. I had warned you about giving out your contact details.” Mrinalini spoke as Atanu left.

Atanu followed Ramdas who have been walking briskly. There were no street lights, only the light coming from the residences lit up the path faintly. Meanwhile, Subroto called up twice and urged him to speed up. Atanu, trying to keep pace with Ramdas, tripped over near the forest but got up quickly. Ramdas came to his rescue and guided him rest of the way.

“There is the house of Dutt Saheb.” Ramdas announced as they approached the big 3-story house.

“Thank the Lord. But what I am seeing, isn’t that Tatai standing at the gate?” Atanu spoke aloud.

“Yes, that’s true. Your friend must have tricked you to come here.” Ramdas said.

“Hey, Tatai, what are doing here? Where’s your father?”

“He is upstairs.”

“He said you are running high fever and bleeding from the nose…”

“I am absolutely fine. Dad easily gets scared and exaggerates… makes big issue of small things.”

Atanu and Ramdas went inside and climbed up to the first floor. He pushed open the bedroom door, Subroto and Kaberi were howling over the very still body of Tatai.

Atanu felt his blood draining out, he collapsed on the floor.

Posted on by Aranyascope

Maha Kumbh 2025

THE BIGGEST GATHERING OF HUMANITY ON THE PLANET EARTH IS THE LARGEST RELIGIOUS GATHERING OF HINDUS, THE FIRST COMMUNITY ON MOTHER EARTH.

It’s pure joy and ecstasy.

NO ANIMAL SCARIFICES, NO BLOODSHED, NO UNIFORM, NO VIOLENCE, NO POLITICS, NO CONVERSIONS, NO SECTS, NO SEGREGATION, NO TRADE, NO BUSINESS.

IT’S HINDUISM, ALL ENCOMPASSING.

Nowhere else HUMANS ever congregate(d) for a single event in such a number; be that religious, sports, war, funeral or festivity. It’s always been the KUMBH mela and this year it’s Maha Kumbh, which is celebrated every 144 years.

The world of statistics look with awe at the statistics; 400 million people over 44 days, over 15 million taking the holy dip on the first day, a temporary city across 4,000 hectares, 150,000 tents, 3,000 kitchens, 145,000 restrooms, with 40,000 security personnel, 2,700 AI-enabled cameras, etc. These are mind boggling statistics but is not what makes me wonder.

MY AWE IS NOT ABOUT MATERIALISM, STATISTICS OR PHYSICAL ASPECTS OF THIS EVENT.

It’s not about what our eyes can see. It’s not about size or numbers. What amazes me is (what we call ancient) the knowledge of the humanity’s connection with the universe.

It amazes me that it’s rituals are performed with reference to the alignment, positioning and timing of the celestial bodies in the universe (heavens) signifying human relationship with the Cosmos and its physical and spiritual effect on human destiny and future.

It has no power structure or political polity driving it. It’s indigenous to the faith. It’s not about an organised religion. It’s not about a hierarchy.

This Hindu Dharma’s understanding of the humanity’s relationship with the universe, from vegetation (under our feet) to the stars (in the milky way) is an evidence of the advanced knowledge in Hinduism which has extraterrestrial roots & connections.

The meditating Sadhus’ consciousness is able to reach frontiers beyond space & time. It breaks the illusion of duality of me & the universe.

BEYOND MATERIAL SCIENCE

I think today’s space travel through rockets is a primitive technology. Our physical bodies are not us. We don’t need to physically travel anywhere as once we understand that we are souls having a physical experience, from localised particles, we become infinite, part of the whole, present everywhere, as entangled particles exhibit; distance and time barriers lose existence. When we become pure consciousness; part of the divine light; timeless and formless.

It’s the awe when Sadhus of Himalayas and Quantum mechanics take a holy dip together in the vast ocean of knowledge. It’s not enough to say that Hinduism is aligned with nature. There is no duality; it’s nature itself. Being a Hindu is coming back to your natural state.

Nature is Hindu! Every living being is Hindu.🚩

(Collected)

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The Roommate

Sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction.

Many years ago, while visiting my maternal uncle in Kolkata, I came across a news item in a Bengali newspaper, “A dreaded serial killer, Sikandar Baksh, after brutally killing a businessman of Bou Bazaar is absconding and police believe that he was hiding somewhere within the city only. They were hopeful of arresting him soon…” I read the news in passing and did not give much thought to it.

A few years later, after marrying off his daughter Mimi, my uncle suddenly passed away. It became a handful for my aunt to manage the large ancestral house, it was sold to a developer and she moved in the heart of Kolkata in a rented flat in Tollygunge, till her own flat in the vicinity gets ready.

My job as Marketing Manager took me across the country for short hauls including Kolkata but never for a long enough period to meet any relations, at best I could connect with them over a telephone call. I always spoke to my aunt over phone when I visited Kolkata but couldn’t visit her. Then, couple of years ago, an opportunity came when I had to extend my stay in the city over the weekend and I decided pay her a visit. So, on Sunday afternoon, I checked out of the hotel and went over to her house in Tollygunge.

My aunt was overwhelmed with joy seeing me. She hugged me and took me inside. It was a two-bedroom apartment, small but neat and clean. She asked me about my parents and siblings back home. And how’s my job and long I am in the city. The maid brought tea and snacks for us. She informed that the maid comes in the morning around 8am and leaves at 8pm after preparing the dinner, doesn’t stay overnight. While we were chatting, I could sense that my aunt was anxious about something, her body language suggested that she was under some kind of stress.

“What is it that you are feeling stressed?” I finally asked her.

“No, it’s nothing, I am not stressed but happy to see you after such a long time.” She tried to evade my question. I did not press further.

Later, after dinner, she asked me sleep in her room while she sleeps in the guest bedroom, “You, sleep in my room, I will take the other room.”

“No way, you sleep in your own bed, I will sleep in the guest room and it is a matter of one night only.” I refused her offer firmly.

“Okay, in case you need anything at night, wake me up.”

A sumptuous dinner and the comfortable king size bed soon put me to sleep. The Tollygunge area was infested with mosquitos because of many waterbodies and every household uses a mosquito net besides the repellents at night. Though the peak winter was gone, the nights still had some chill, so the mosquito net provided a bit of coziness that helped in sound sleep… only if one is not awakened by the sudden ringing of the mobile phone.

I was rudely woken up by the constant ringing of my mobile phone that I had kept on the bedside table along with my wristwatch and purse. It took me few moments to figure out where I am and where’s ringing sound coming from, and then few more to slide my hand out from the mosquito net. And then I got the shock that sent a chill through my spine… a black hairy hand holding my phone extended towards me… just the hand from the elbow to palm was visible. My throat became dry, I could hardly speak, mustering courage I shouted, “Who are you? What are you doing in my room?” But I guess only a throaty groan came out. Meanwhile, the phone had stopped ringing and the black hairy hand placed it back on the table as my aunt knocked on the door, “Bubai, are you okay? I heard some noise…”

I got out of the bed and opened the door to let aunt come inside. She switched on the light and examined the room, everything was in its place, nothing missing. At last, she said, “Did you had a bad dream? Because the sound you were making usually happens if you are having a nightmare.”

“Yes, aunty, probably it was a nightmare.” There was nothing else to explain otherwise. Moreover, I did not want to scare her unnecessarily.

She put on a night lamp and went back to her room. Though, I was a bit scared and kept searching the room in the low blue light of the lamp for the black hairy hand and the person that it belonged, but eventually sleep overpowered my anxiety. The night passed without any further disturbances. In the morning after breakfast, I took leave from my aunt promising to meet her again not knowing that was the last I have seen her alive.

My cousin, Mimi, herself an engineer had married a techie and settled in Bangalore, we kept in touch through social media and occasional telephone calls as life became busy with our involvement in our own family and career advancement. Even that became irregular to the point of just wishing each other on special occasion and festivals.

Last Sunday, I got a call from my cousin Mimi that her mother, my aunt had passed away and the last rites will be performed at Kolkata and she will be grateful if I could join them as I am the only relative, she has now from either side of her parents. I told her that I will finish my work on Monday and take the late evening flight to Kolkata.

I reached Dumdum around midnight, coming out from the airport found Sujoy (Mimi’s husband) waiting for me. It took us 40 minutes to reach Tollygunge, though I wanted to stay in a hotel, Mimi insisted that I stay with them, she actually emotionally blackmailed me to stay with them. Besides the three of them, Mimi, Sujoy and their son Rupam, the full-time housekeeper of my aunt were present when I reached. After chatting for a while, we retired for the day, I was directed to a guestroom when I realized that this is a bigger and different apartment than where I had last visited. I asked Mimi, “This is a different apartment, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is a different and bigger apartment than where you last stayed.”

“What happened? When did you buy this and why the change?”

“It’s a long story; I will tell you tomorrow but promise that you won’t make fun of it.”

I promised her not to make fun of her but became impatient to hear all about it.

During the day, we remained busy with arrangements for the last rites besides attending to visitors and relations who came to express their heartfelt condolences. At last, after dinner, I could get hold of Mimi and demanded to know the reason for shifting the house. We were sitting in the living room. Mimi went inside and came with a slim file, composing herself, she started narrating…

A few months after you visited mother, few unnatural things happened in that house, the part-time maid often complained to mother that whenever she went to the guest room to clean in the evening, she felt the presence of someone else in the room. Maa dismissed her saying it was all psychological and eventually told her to clean the room when daylight is still there. This helped to an extent but then even Maa could hear footsteps in the adjoining room whenever she woke up at night. She did not tell us or anyone else lest we feel distressed living far away from her. Then, Sujoy came to Kolkata on work and decided stay with her instead of the company guesthouse. She told him to take her room, while she sleeps in the guestroom but Sujoy flatly refused.

The first two nights passed peacefully, nothing untoward happened or Sujoy was too tired and slept soundly through the night. On the last night of his stay, he and Maa chatted quite late into the night. He tried reasoning with her to come and live with us in Bengaluru. She was adamant that she cannot go and live with her daughter, typical traditional mentality.

Mimi looked at Sujoy and said, “Why don’t you narrate the incidence yourself?”

Sujoy:

I was a little disturbed because, with age, Maa’s health was an issue but I could not dent her traditional thoughts. I kept tossing and turning, it took some time for me fall asleep. I don’t know how long I had slept but woke up as I felt someone is nudging my pillow and breathing heavily like when you experience nose block. I was sleepy, thought Maa is trying to wake me up needing some help. I opened my eyes and froze. A very dark muscular man with thick black moustache is looking at me angrily, his eyes were burning red. I tried get up but he forced me down, his black hairy hands started strangling me… he was saying something in a language I couldn’t understand. I gathered all my strength and pushed his hand away from my neck. In the sudden act of mine, the man lost his balance and fell backwards hitting the table, toppling it. I ran out of the room on to the veranda chanting Gayatri Mantra and taking deep breath. Once I had calmed down, gathering my wits, I came back to the room and switched on the light, the clock showed 4:45 am, only an hour away for sunrise. The table had indeed toppled, my phone, purse and the watch lay all over the floor. But there was no signs of any other person except a foul smell of rotting animal filling the room. I was surprised that with all such commotion and noise, Maa did not wake up. I took the chair outside, sitting on the veranda waited for the sunrise.

In the morning, I called up Mimi asking her to take the next flight to Kolkata without explaining the reason, called up my office to inform of my extended stay in the city for family emergency. I realized that Maa had been taking sleeping pills probably to avoid the nightly encounter with her roommate.

While having breakfast together, Maa suddenly pointed to my neck and said, “What are those blue marks on your neck? Tell me what happened in the night.” There was shock and terror writ on her face. I dismissed her fear saying I do get such marks not just in the neck but other parts of the body sometimes and it goes away on its own, the doctors have assured nothing to worry. By the look in her eyes, I knew she did not believe me.

I went to office to finish few urgent assignments and picked up Mimi from the airport. Maa was surprised and happy to see Mimi. Together, we put pressure on her to shift with us to Bengaluru immediately. Reluctantly, she agreed to go on a temporary basis till this apartment gets ready. She was with us in Bengaluru for six months and moved in this apartment. Mimi arranged for a full-time housekeeper to move-in with her. She stopped taking the sleeping pills and lived peacefully.  

Sujoy stopped and Mimi extended the slim file towards me. I opened it to find few newspaper cuttings inside. I started reading the news article from The Telegraph:

In a recent raid to a warehouse in Khidirpur, police have not only recovered huge quantities of drugs but have arrested two dreaded criminals having link to the still absconding serial killer Sikander Baksh. On sustained interrogation, the duo admitted being close associates of Sikander Baksh. Together, they had murdered the businessman from Bou Bazar and had taken shelter in an under-construction house in Tollygunge hiding from the police. There, they had an argument about sharing the loot and in the heat of the moment they had killed him and buried the body in that building.

The report further said that, police having secured the permission from the court had dug up the said house and retrieved the physical remains of a body. The DNA test confirmed it to be of Sikander Baksh.

At the end of the article, there were two photographs, a file photo of Sikander Baksh and that of the house from where the body was retrieved, the address plate next to the gate made me choke, it was the house where my aunt used live and I had spent one tormenting night.

I closed the file and returned it to Mimi. She looked at me questioningly for my comments. I decided to keep my experience with me. I still don’t know if it was real or just a bad dream, moreover, a closer has happened, so why rake up the past.

Posted on by Aranyascope · 2 Comments

On a Rainy Evening in Mussoorie

Purely on a whim, Gora, Topshe, Pulak and I had come to Mussoorie to spend couple of days then go to Haridwar-Rishikesh and perhaps Kanataal. It was sunny afternoon when left our hotel to take a walk down the mall road, then out of nowhere a dark cloud had enveloped the sky and shortly the downpour started, forcing us to take shelter in a cafe. The aroma of freshly made pastry and patties was irresistible, we ordered the chicken patty along with coffee occupying a table by window and waited for the rain to stop. The weather in the mountains at this time of the year is quite unpredictable, the locals know this and carry an umbrella with them, we didn’t.

The rich aroma of the coffee coupled with the melt in the mouth chicken patty was heavenly. Topshe bit into the patty and exclaimed, “Look at that man, isn’t he our Bipul-da… Bipul Ray? And he is coming this way only.”

Bipul-da is our senior from school by about 5-6 years and resided in the same residential area in our youth days. He even played football and carrom with us, very jovial person and excellent artist and used to work with a renowned advertising agency as their creative director. I have met him a few times for my brand promotions and received valuable inputs from him.

Bipul-da entered the shop and headed straight to our table, it seemed he had seen us and decided to join us. He shouted in his booming voice, “Hey guys, what are you doing? I am glad to catch you guys here, feeling bored roaming the place all alone.”

“How are you Bipul-da? We are surprised to see you but please join us.” Gora spoke for all of us.

We ordered more coffee and pastries and chatted while devouring them. The weather showed no signs of relenting and it was getting dark too. Slowly the discussions veered towards paranormal and especially to the existence of ghosts. Bipul-da said, “I will tell you a true story and it involves me.”

“Please, Bipul-da, we are all ears.”

Bipul-da took a long sip of his coffee and started…

It’s a long way back, you know that I had relocated to Kolkata after school and did my graduation from Presidency college; thereafter, I joined the Clarion Advertising. The city of joy and the advertising fraternity is a fatal combination for health, the smoking and unplugged alcohol consumption did damage my health. The doctor suggested that I take a break and go away from the city to somewhere in the countryside to relax. I started walking towards the metro station, a 10 minutes walking distance from the doctor’s clinic when I felt a hand on my shoulder, turning around I found my college mate Amalendu Sengupta. I had lost touch with him after college and was surprised as well as happy to see him.

“You have lost weight, is everything okay with you?” before I could say anything he asked.

I narrated my wayward lifestyle after leaving the college and current predicament.

“I suggest, you forget about Puri, Digha, Bhubaneshwar and Deoghar, those places won’t do any good to your health. You should go to Milanshahar, within 3 days you will start feeling rejuvenated.”

“Where is Milanshahar? Never heard of this place.”

“Yes, not many people know of this place and that’s why it is still uncontaminated, pristine.” Amalendu replied.

“How to reach there? Where will I stay? Are there any good hotels?”

“Don’t you worry, my father Amarendra Sengupta had bought a bungalow there which is lying vacant now but there’s a caretaker who will look after you. I would have gone with you but…” Amalendu stopped short of saying something and then continued, “You just tell the caretaker that I have sent you. Take the train to Giridih and then a bus ride of about 12 km to Milanshahar. There you ask anyone to direct you to Amar Kothi. I look forward to seeing a healthy Bipul soon.”

Amalendu hurried into the evening crowd after giving his advice. Next day, I took leave of ten days from office and proceeded to Milanshahar. It was well past 8 pm when I reached Milanshahar, town was almost asleep barring a few hurrying homes. I found a shopkeeper about to close down and asked him direction to Amar Kothi. He looked at me in total disbelief and said, “No one lives there anymore, it is an abandoned house with wild foliage and animals.”

I realized, the shopkeeper is not acquainted with Amar Kothi, or maybe the caretaker is lax in his job. “It’s okay, just tell me which way to go.”

“Go straight, you will see a small hillock, keeping it on your left take the right-side road, keep walking till you reach the Christian graveyard, the white walls of Amar Kothi will be visible as soon as you cross the graveyard.”

I started walking towards the Amar Kothi as per the direction of the shopkeeper. It wasn’t a easy thing with suitcase in one hand and the torch in other, the path was rough with rocks and wild growth. Although it wasn’t even 9 pm, the place gave the impression of midnight with not a soul to be seen anywhere… I could hear the howling of foxes in the distance. After walking for almost half hour, I finally reached Amar Kothi. The bungalow is quite large and spacious, there were growth of wild foliage and moss around the house as the shopkeeper said. I unlatched the gate and it opened with a cranking noise. I went to the porch and looked for a calling bell, then knocked on the door loudly. After a while, I heard the sound of opening of a door and voice called out, “Who’s there?” I looked up at the source of the voice, “I am a friend of Amalendu. He told me to come here.”

The light of the torch focused on my face, “Oh, you are Bipul, please to see you… I have been waiting for you… let me come down and open the door.”

I wondered who is the gentleman who knows my name, is it someone like me who has come for health reasons; it can’t be the caretaker, he wouldn’t have called me by name like that. The door opened and a lanky guy came out, I focused my torch towards him, it was lanky Arun, our classmate in college. He hugged me and said, “I am so pleased to meet you after such a long time. Please come inside, freshen up… you must be hungry, the dinner is ready, I will heat them up for you.”

I stood still there, a chill run through my spine, I had heard that Arun had met with an accident on the Durgapur highway…he was driving a motorcycle and had a head on collision with a truck coming on the wrong side of the road, on the spot death.

“Two years ago, I met with an accident and had been in hospital for more than six months. I was almost died then but the doctors did their best. When I came out, Amalendu offered this place to me, I am here since then.” Arun said as if reading my mind.

I was exhausted and tired, it could have been just a rumor, I thought and went inside following Arun. “Will you take bath? There’s hot water in the bathroom, you will feel better.” Arun suggested.

The hot water bath actually helped in getting over the tiredness. I came out to the dining hall to find Arun standing by the dining table and a plateful of smoking rice, chicken curry and other delicacy on the table. “Come, have your dinner.” He invited me.

“Wow, it looks very appetising. Who cooks here?” I asked.

“There’s local lad, Munna who does all the work here right from cleaning, dusting the rooms to cooking and washing the utensils. Very efficient chap, lives in the nearby village.”

“What about you? You won’t have dinner.”

“I already had my dinner…usually take it around 6:30 in the evening.”

The food was delicious and I thoroughly enjoyed the spread, especially after a strenuous day. I was sleepy too and it was evident on my face.

“Come, I will show you to your room, sleep well and we will talk again tomorrow.”

Arun walked me to the bedroom which had a single bed neatly done up, a glass of water on the bed table as if Arun knew my habit of drinking water first thing waking up in the morning. Anyways, I was too tired to further and the moment I hit the pillow, a deep slumber enveloped me, I slept immediately. Around midnight I was woken up by the constant hooting of owls. The moonlight from the window was bathing the room, I could clearly see the room and surrounding, nothing was amiss. I turned to my right and a cold wave touched my senses, I opened my eyes and turned stone cold… a skeleton was sleeping on my cot and I had touched its cold hand. I screamed loudly.

“What happened Bipul?”

Arun is standing beside my bed. I pointed my finger towards the skeleton but it wasn’t there anymore. The bed was empty just like when I had slept.

“You are a kid, must have had a bad dream. If you wish, I can sleep with you.”

“No, no, that’s not required, it must be a nightmare, I am fine now.”

Arun went away. I tried to sleep but a new thought started bothering me… I had locked the door before sleeping, how did Arun enter the room? I was scared to get up and check in the darkness.  

In the morning, first thing I checked the door, it was locked from inside. I checked the room in daylight for any other ways to enter but none existed. How did Arun come inside the room? I went out to ask him. Arun was in the lawns, watering the plants.

He laughed aloud when I asked him about last night, “You have had a dream, when did I come to your room? Didn’t you lock it from inside?”

Was it a dream? I can still see the skeleton in my bed and Arun standing by my bed, very clear and living dream it was. I did not pursue the matter further.

“Wash up and get ready, Munna will serve tea shortly”

There were two cane chairs with a matching table on the porch, Arun sat on one and I took the other. Munna came with a tray of tea and biscuits and placed it on the table.

A shiver ran down my spine looking at Munna, I have never seen a living human so thin, just a layer of skin over the skeleton. His complexion was charcoal black, the eyes were trying to hide in the socket and the most striking feature was his white teeth, jutting out from his mouth.

“How scary is his features” I exclaimed.

“What’s there in the human form, inside the skin, all are just skeletons only. Howsoever he may look like, Munna is very efficient in his work. Moreover, we have to keep people whom we can trust, Munna is our very own person.” Arun explained.

“Where is your tea?”

“I don’t take tea or biscuits. It is best to avoid them. I had my soaked chana with ginger, first thing in the morning when I wake up.”

Arun thought for a while and then said, “I have to go to the post office and few other places, you relax here, don’t wait for me at lunch, I will have something to eat in the market.”

The whole day passed, even the evening too gave way to the night, Arun did not return. At the dinner table, I asked Munna, “When will Arun come back?”

“Can’t say, Saheb is like that only, some days he doesn’t come at all. I don’t know where all places he goes. You have your dinner, I have kept saheb’s food separately in case he wants to have.”

Something odd happened at dinner, I asked for extra chapati and sabji, Munna went up to the kitchen door but did not enter, just brought the items, it seemed, someone was standing inside to handover the dishes to him. I shrugged off the matter, finished my dinner and went to room. The house seemed mysterious, some paranormal forces are roaming the house, looking for preys.

I tried to sleep but sleep eluded that night, I kept tossing and turning on the bed. My senses became alive with the sound of stick fighting right outside my room. Arun hadn’t returned as far as I knew, I went to the window and slide the curtains on one side. The view terrorized all my senses, Munna was swinging from a tree, all skeleton, his height has increased exponentially long, he looked at me, his eyes bloodshot red fireball. On the porch, two skeletons were sitting close to each other the stick fighting noise is coming from their bones. They too turned to look at me following the gaze of Munna, two pairs of bloodshot fireballs ready to turn me into ashes. Then, something amazing happened, the skeletons on the porch started getting filled with flesh and when their features were complete, I could easily recognize, Arun and Amalendu. I don’t remember, how long I had screamed. I could not sleep the whole night, shivering in fear and waiting for my imminent death.

As soon as the morning broke, I packed my bag and ran out from Amar Kothi. I did not stop till I reached the grocery shop that I had seen while coming. The shopkeeper was opening the shop, huffing and puffing, barely able to speak, I asked for a glass of water. He looked at me in puzzled amazement, probably not expecting me to be alive.

“Aren’t you coming from Amar Kothi?” he asked handing me a glass of water.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“What did you have for food?”

I hesitated then said, “Munna used to cook for me.”

The shopkeeper’s mouth turned into a big O, the eyes fearful… in a shivering voice he said, “Munna? What are you saying? Don’t you know, two years ago, Munna was found hanging from a tree in the lawns of Amar Kothi.”

“Suicide?”

“I don’t know but people say, his cousins murdered him for the share of property and gave it a look of suicide.”  

I did not stop for a moment more till I reached Giridih railway station where the station master narrated the rest of the story.

Amalendu used to go to Amar Kothi quite frequently but a year ago his dead body was discovered by the gardener on the porch of Amar Kothi. The police did their investigation but the murder case remained inconclusive.

My head started spinning, who did I meet coming out from the doctor’s clinic? Why did Amalendu asked me to come to Milanshahar and particularly Amar Kothi? Were they planning to kill me too? I thought a lot about my experience but couldn’t get any satisfactory answer.

Bipul-da stopped and looked out of the window. “Oh, the rain has stopped, I will have to go now, some friends are waiting for me.”

Bipul-da rushed out from the café into the darkness of the night. Gora’s phone rang, he picked up the call… “Hello, Gora, where are you?”

“Swati-di, how are you? We have come to Mussoorie for couple of days. We met Bipul-da here in the café, he just left to meet his friends. Are you too in Mussoorie?”

“What are talking about? Bipul passed away this afternoon after a massive cardiac arrest.”

The phone slipped out from Gora’s hand.  

Posted on by Aranyascope

Mother

Dr. Debashish Chowdhury successfully completed his internship at the govt hospital at Barasat and was posted at the Hridaypur Govt Hospital. Dr. Debashish, all of 26 years age, became the lone doctor at the village hospital. He took up residence near the hospital but away from the village centre. His house was in an isolated patch of the village surrounded by open fields of rice cultivation on one side and mix of palm, mango and jackfruit trees besides others creating a feel of forest. The narrow make-shift road from his house went straight to the hospital and then to the state highway. Dr. Debashish being an introvert, hasn’t made any friends, he prefers to read in his free time. A local boy named Sonu does errands as well as cook for him. The village turns sleepy by 8:30 pm with deserted roads. Urban bred Dr. Debashish initially did not like the place and wanted to leave but stayed back for the sake of his career. The regular load-shedding after sundown made his life difficult as he was not familiar with lighting a lantern, every evening, Sonu would light up two lanterns.

Like any other evening, after dinner Dr. Debashish was reading a medical journal when he heard someone calling, “Doctor Sahib. Doctor Sahib.” It was past 10 pm.

He wondered who’s at the door at that late hour as most of the villagers sleep by 8:30 pm, he took the torch and opened the door. A handsome middle-aged gentleman was standing by a vintage car in front of the gate, before he could ask, the gentleman spoke, “Sorry to bother you at this late hour but I need your help, my wife has suddenly fallen ill and there are no doctors other than you. I shall be grateful if you can come along with me. I promise to drop you back later.”

Dr. Debashish was looking at the gentleman, he seemed very familiar but Dr. Debashish couldn’t place him. He asked, “Where’s your wife?”

“She’s at home… about 5 km away from here.”

“Okay, I will go with you.” Dr. Debashish quickly changed clothes, locking the house, he got into the passenger seat next to the driver. The gentleman was already seated in the back.

“What was your name, you said?” asked Dr. Debashish as the car started moving.

“Sukanto Bhattacharya.”

Dr. Debashish stopped himself from asking any further personal question, he’s a doctor going to see a patient, there’s no need to get involved personally, he thought. They covered the distance in silence, the only sound being the friction noise of the tyre with the rough road and occasional howling of the dogs. The car stopped in front of a palatial house; the light bulbs are too feeble to light up the surrounding. “That’s our house”, declared Mr. Sukanto Bhattacharya.

Dr. Debashish got down from the car and looked up at the house, though the lights were too feeble, the moonlight was bright enough to see beyond the silhouette of the structure. He was shocked, the house looked very familiar to him, the high-rising pillars, the long corridors and veranda all looked as if he has seen them earlier. He asked, “What is the name of this place?”

“Jirapali.”

Dr. Debashish was certain that he had never been to this place, but why does the place feel so familiar as if he has spent time here in this house… he wondered with a bit of unease.

A handyman came with a lantern, Sukanto took it from him and invited Dr. Debashish, “Doctor, please come this way. Sorry for the inconvenience, the electricity is hardly available in the village and the voltage is too low to be of any use.”

“It’s okay, let’s check the patient immediately.”

They walked in silence through the long corridor to the staircase leading to the upper floors. Climbing the stairs, Dr. Debashish was again struck by the familiarity. He felt a cold wave run through his veins giving him goosebumps. The air was filled with some sort of fragrance, maybe of some flowers, he couldn’t place it. The whole house was in deathly silence, the only sound came from the footsteps as he followed Sukanto in to a large room.

A large bed with intricate design lay in the middle of the room; in the low light of the lantern, Dr. Debashish could see a frail figure on the bed under the thin white sheet. For a moment, the bed looked familiar to him but he shrugged off the feeling and went closer to the bed.

A very frail lady sleeping on her side facing away from Dr. Debashish. He spoke in a low voice, “Please turn around mother, I want to check you.”

The woman did not stir from her position or responded. Dr. Debashish repeated his request.

This time the woman stirred and garbled noise came out of her as she tried to turn.

“How are you feeling, mother? Where is it paining?” Dr. Debashish asked softly.

The woman turned to face him… Dr. Debashish saw a mist covered face looking at him lovingly. Before he could say anything, the room suddenly became dark, the lantern lights dimmed exceptionally low. He frantically called out, “Sukanto Sir, where are you? Show me the light.” His voice echoed through the room. The lights came on as suddenly as they had dimmed. He looked at his patient more closely… her eyes were sad and melancholy. The woman started crying, the loud cries reverberated through the entire house hitting the very core of Dr. Debashish. He felt something inside him pinch his heart with force. He was unable to control his emotion, involuntarily he was crying too. His head started spinning and he fell down, unconscious.

He woke up slowly at the calling of his name, opening his eyes slowly he found the villagers surrounding him… he recalled seeing a few of them at the hospital. He looked around, he was sitting on the floor of the corridor, layers of sandy mud greeting his body. He tried to remember the events of the night…a gentleman in a vintage car brought him here… “What’s this place?” he asked one of the villagers.

“Jirapali”

“Okay, now I remember clearly… A gentleman named Sukanto Bhattacharya brought me here in a car… to check his ailing wife.”

The villagers looked at each other in bewilderment. An elderly villager spoke eventually, “Sukanto Babu used to be the Panchayat Pradhan, his forefathers were the zamindar of this area. He passed away 18 years ago just 2 months after the passing away of his ailing wife. Those days, there were no hospitals and doctors here in the village, for medical treatment we had to go to the town Barasat.”

Dr. Debashish got up from the sandy floor and patted his body to clean the dirt… he was puzzled. He needed to go back to the hospital. A young boy gave him a ride back to the hospital. The day passed in daze… he kept thinking how he landed at the old zamindar house a few kilometres away from his quarters. Moreover, why the house, the people there looked familiar to him, he kept thinking all day.

Days turned into week, weeks tuned into month, life had returned to normal and boring for Dr. Debashish, he had almost forgotten about the zamindar house and the incident of that night. Signing off for the day, he decided to take a stroll through the village to get familiar with the surrounding and perhaps get to know the inhabitants. He was walking with gay abandon, passing few hutments where the women of the house were preparing dinner, delicious savoury smell wafted through the air. The surroundings became secluded with open fields on either side of the road, Dr. Debashish became conscious and wanted to turn around but some unknown force made him walk forward. Soon, he realized, he was standing in front of the old zamindar house. He could see many people silently moving around on the long corridor of the house. A car came to stop in front of the house from which Sukanto Bhattacharya alighted. He looked at Dr. Debashish and smiled waving at him.

“Doctor Sahib, what are you doing here?”

The call brought him to reality, he turned to find a young boy with his mother…they had visited him yesterday at the hospital.

“Where were you going, Doctor Sahib?” the lady asked.

A few other villagers also joined them. One of them asked, “What were you doing in this abandoned house at this late hours, Doctor Sahib?”

“I don’t know, I felt someone strongly pulled me here.”

“Sir, come with me, I will take you back to the hospital.”

“It’s okay, I will find my way back, thank you.”

The villagers ignored him and walked him back to the hospital. Alone at home, he thought, does he have a link to the house? Why does Sukanto Babu shows up like that? Why does he end up in front of that abandoned house? He was intrigued but the answers eluded him.

He had three holidays coming up and decided to visit his parents. In the morning as he was packing up, he got call from his mother, “Please come quickly, your father is very unwell and wants to see you urgently.”  

He reached home in the afternoon and found his father in a very bad shape. The cancer has reduced him to a skeleton. The physician inside him told him that his father may not survive the night. He sat down beside him holding his father’s hand, gently called, “Baba, I am here. How are you feeling?”

The old man opened his grey eyes and looking at Debashish, his eyes lit up momentarily as he tried speak, a garbled sound came through his trembling lips, “Son, son, you have come…. I…I…” the old man couldn’t finish as life slipped out of his body.

Once, the cremation and last rites were completed, Dr. Debashish decided to return to work. His mother came with a sealed envelope, “Your father left this envelope for you.”

He took the envelope and opened it, a handwritten letter came out…

“Dear Son,

When you get this letter, I would have left the mortal world. It is important that you must know the truth, otherwise my soul won’t rest in peace. We are not your biological parents. The woman, Savitri, you know as your mother had delivered three still-born babies before and I was mortally scared that another still-born baby would kill her. As fate would have, the fourth baby too was still-born. In desperation, I bribed the nurse to switch the baby with one born in the next bed. Both the mothers were unconscious and never came to know of the switch. However, I remained the culprit to your real mother. Hope she and your real father will forgive me.”

Dr. Debashish slowly folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. The visuals of the old lady crying and saying, “My son, come to me” flashed in front of him.

“What’s written in the letter?” his mother asked.

“Nothing of concern mother.” He hugged his mother tightly as his eyes welled up in tears.

Posted on by Aranyascope

Sujan

A month back Inspector Satish Chauhan has come to village Bakheta, 40 minutes’ drive from Rohtak city as SHO (Station House Officer). He has been transferred here as punishment for not adhering to the dictate of a minor politician with enough influence. The police station is away from the centre of the village, near the main bus station. His residential quarters a further away… 10 minutes’ walk from the chowki, a small pond behind the house and then the cultivable land spreads as far as one can see. Satish liked the place, being in mid-forties, he is done with the cat-n-mouse chase. His son has just started his engineering degree course from NIT Kurukshetra. Satish has already decided to quit once his son graduates, going back to his village near Ambala and doing farming like his father.

The Bakheta village is mostly peaceful with some incidences of snatching and theft once in a while. In all such cases the culprits were apprehended within a few days. Satish loves to read, especially fictions and has brought with him few boxes of books. Most of his free time is spent in reading these books. He also takes a stroll along the pond going into the fields of wheat cultivation.

He was returning from morning walk, when he saw constable Deepinder waiting for him at the gate of his quarter. As he approached him, Deepinder spoke with urgency, “Sir, please come to the station immediately.”

“Why? What happened? Is it a case of theft or murder?” Satish asked.

“No Sir, nothing of that sort… the Panchayat Pradhan Rajbir Jangra is waiting for you.”

“So? Let him wait. I will come in a while. If he needs urgent attention, SI Amit Kumar is there to attend.”

“Sir, he wants to talk to you only. He is quite influential and close to the ruling political party. I suggest you meet him as soon as possible.”

“Okay fine. I will join you in 10 minutes.”

Panchayat Pradhan Rajbir Jangra was waiting in his office and stood up as Inspector Satish Chauhan entered, “Good morning, Sir. I am Rajbir Jangra. I wanted to meet you for long time but couldn’t because of work pressure. Besides being a businessman, I am also the Panchayat Pradhan of Bakheta village… but my visit has nothing to do with either. I have come to invite you for the “Mundan ceremony” of my grandson. You have to come to the party in the evening.”

“Thank you for the invite, I will try my best but can’t promise you. You know, our job is 24×7, don’t know when some emergency incidence happens.”

“No, no, you will have to come, I will send the car for you.”

“Okay, I will come for a short while.”

Looking out through the window, Inspector Satish watched Rajbir Jangra getting into his BMW SUV and wondered from where the wealth comes to these guys.

Constable Deepinder came in with a tray, a cup of tea and a plate of bread-pakoda, breakfast for Inspector Satish Chauhan. After placing the items on the desk, he stood at the side. Satish has found the young boy quite intelligent and logical. He looked up at him and asked, “What’s the matter Deepinder? Do you want to say something?”

“Sir, this man… Rajbir Jangra is not a good person. He is not only corrupt but can go to any length to achieve his objective. He had a business partner who just vanished one day… it is rumoured that Rajbir murdered him and burnt his body in his farmhouse.”

“Deepinder, it is just a rumour, no proof or witness, we can’t act on it on mere suspicion.”

“Sir, my distant cousin works at his home as a security guard, I will ask him for more information.”

The week passed peacefully without any incidence in village Bakheta. On Saturday, Inspector Satish Chauhan went to Rohtak on a case related to his previous posting and returned late in the evening. He saw the familiar BMW SUV outside the police station but still asked the guard, “Who’s car is this?”

“It belongs to Panchayat Pradhan Rajbir Jangra. He has sent it to take you to his farmhouse.” The guard informed as a matter of fact.

It would not look nice, if I don’t go, thought Satish and told the driver that he would soon join him after freshening up. The farmhouse, more like a palace, was lit up for the celebrations and Rajbir came quickly to welcome his special guest, Inspector Satish Chauhan. He introduced him to the other distinguished guests and to his son. The party continued till almost midnight… Satish had called for his vehicle not wanting to take any favour from his host.

The farmhouse was on the other side of the village, the driver finding the roads devoid of traffic was cruising at a good speed, Satish seating at the rear seat dozed from the days’ exhaustion and the hearty meal at the farmhouse party. Suddenly, the driver applied hard break and the vehicle stopped with a screeching noise. “What happened?” Satish asked.

“A young boy came running on the road.”

Satish was surprised, “Young boy? At this hour in the middle of nowhere? Are you sure?”

“Yes sir, I saw him zigzagging in front of the car.”

Satish got out of the car to inspect. In the darkness, as far as he could see, there were no settlement, only cultivated land on both side of the road.

“You must be feeling sleepy. There are no houses anywhere in the vicinity. Drive carefully.” He instructed the driver irritatingly.

On reaching the police station, he checked if anything needs his attention but the duty officer informed that all are under control. Satish crashed out once he hit the bed. A low noise of a child crying woke him up, he checked his wristwatch, it was 2 am. Being a police officer, he’s trained to be attentive at all times. He tried to concentrate on the crying sound, it was coming from the rear of the house… picking up the 5-cell torch he went out to check.

The light from the torch though powerful did not show up the source of the crying. Satish walked towards the sound in complete darkness trying to focus the light pinpointing the source. He stopped, the light has caught the source… a young boy of 10-12 years wearing shorts and a torn t-shirt standing near the pond crying. Satish rushed towards the boy but his foot hit a stone, losing balance he fell down. He wasn’t hurt and got up quickly. The boy had vanished. He focused the beam all across the banks of the pond but couldn’t find the boy.

He came back wondering if the young boy is same one that the driver saw!!

Over the next two days, he became busy with managing political rallies of the rival parties and forgot all about the young boy. He was driving back home late at night when he had to apply the brake with full force… out of nowhere, a young boy, dangerously came running in front the police jeep. He shouted at the boy, “Hey, who are you? Be careful.”  The boy looked back at him and then ran away in the darkness. Satish tried to see where the boy went but couldn’t.

The following morning, he enquired in the police station if anyone had seen a young boy of 10-12 years age in the vicinity but no one could recall seeing. The driver said, “Sir, you did not believe me the other day when I was driving, now you have seen him too. I have a feeling that the boy is an apparition.” Satish is a logical person, doesn’t believe in paranormal, he dismissed the driver, “What nonsense, there’s no such thing. You check the neighbourhood for the kid, his parents must be informed.”

A few days later, he was finishing his reports when Panchayat Pradhan Rajbir Jangra landed in his office with large box of sweets and said, “Sir, the other day when you came, I couldn’t take good care of you in the midst of so many people. Please join me and my family this coming Sunday for lunch. I would feel honoured.”

Satish knew that being the SHO of the area, he will occasionally get such invitation. He politely tried to decline, “On Sunday, I have to go to Rohtak on urgent work, I won’t be back before evening.”

“Then let’s meet for dinner.” Rajbir was insistent.   

Satish, though irritated, calmly replied, “I can’t say anything right now, I really don’t know when I will be back here on Sunday evening… it all depends on my work.”

It was late evening on Sunday when Satish returned to the police station. Deepinder was at the gate, “Sir, Rajbir Jangra had sent his car for you but I told the driver that you aren’t back from Rohtak and we don’t know when you will come.”

“Good, if his man comes again, tell him that I am still not back. Now, is there anything else, otherwise I will go home for the night.”

“No Sir, everything is okay, you take rest.”

Satish walked the short distance from the police station to his home… getting closer he saw the BMW standing in front of his house. Rajbir came out from the passenger side and greeted him, “Sir, good to see you, I have been waiting for you only.”

Satish had no place to hide, “Okay, let’s go but I am very tired, will not be able to stay for long.”

Rajbir had made a fabulous arrangement, a banquette in honour of his guest. Satish was feeling tired and was seating alone in the porch when he noticed the same young boy standing at the distance. He got up to go catch the boy but he vanished quickly. Satish became pensive, the boy was trying to tell him something… he must do something, but what?

On Monday morning when reached his office, Deepinder was waiting for him, “Sir, we have found the boy, his name is Sujan… missing for last two weeks, only child of his parents. They are frantically searching for him.”

Two days later, Satish woke up in the middle of night… he heard the low crying of a child again. He quickly dressed up and went out to look for the boy. He was standing at a distance and started walking as soon as he saw Satish. This time, Satish did not call out but started following the boy. They walked quite a distance, the boy never looked back as if he was certain that Satish was surely following him. After a time, the boy stopped in front of big house and looked at Satish, his eyes were sad and begging for help. Satish looked at the house and realised he had been to this house, a couple of times, the farmhouse of Panchayat Pradhan Rajbir Jangra. The house was in darkness, the inhabitants sleeping comfortably. The boy had vanished again, he came back in silently before anyone could spot him.

Satish could deduce that there are strong connections between the missing boy and the house of the Panchayat Pradhan. He will have to find out. He will ask Deepinder to investigate.

Two days later, Satish was in his office when Deepinder came rushing and said, “Sir, very bad news. The little boy was murdered by Rajbir and buried in the lawns of his farmhouse.”

“What? Who told you?” Satish asked.

“I told you earlier that my distant cousin works at that house as security guard, he narrated the whole incident. The boy had entered the lawns to pick some fruits, one of the guards caught him and presented him to Rajbir Jangra. In the fit of anger, Rajbir hit the boy on his head with his walking stick. It was struck so hard that the boy died instantly. The body was buried at the corner of the lawn and everyone involved were paid handsomely to keep quite.”

Inspector Satish Chauhan was aghast at the brutality, he immediately arranged a team to search the house. He personally went to the district magistrate’s office to get the search warrant and requested him to keep it under the wraps as he feared someone in the DM’s office in the payroll of Rajbir Jangra might tip him off.

The lawn was carpeted with nicely manicured grass, the police team searched the place with hawk eye. One corner of the lawn seemed different from the rest, it had been dug recently and filled up again but unevenly, the loose soil, a tell-tale sign. Satish ordered his men to dug the place; it did not take much digging, the body of Sujan wrapped in gunny sack came out. The parents of the boy were summoned to identify. They broke down seeing the mortal remains of their only child. Rajbir Jangra along with the gardener and the guard were arrested immediately.

That night, Satish was finding it difficult to sleep, he went out to the porch and his eyes caught the sight of the boy named Sujan. He was saying thank you to Inspector Satish Chauhan.     

Posted on by Aranyascope

The Woman with the Infant

The moment the train left the station, Indrajit realized, in the hurry to catch the train he had forgotten his prized torch at his uncle’s home. He hoped to retrieve it on his next visit. The weather had turned sultry and humid even though it was just mid-May. He thanked his stars that he could get the AC 2-Tier ticket under the Tatkal Seva of the railways. He settled down in his cubicle and after a while realized that he was travelling alone in that section, the other three berths in his cubicle were unoccupied, very unusual, he thought.

He took off his shoes and made himself comfortable pulling up the blanket as air in the cubicle became a bit chilly. He took out the book he purchased from the station before embarking the train and started reading it. The train picked up speed, the gentle movement of the coach and the clanking sound soon made him sleepy… he slowly dozed off.

The ticket checker woke him up. As he was checking the ticket, Indrajit asked, “Aren’t anyone coming for these three berths?”

The ticket checker, looked through the chart and replied, “A family of three will embark from the next station.”

Indrajit was relieved and happy that most of the night, he will be alone in the cubicle… he doesn’t enjoy the company of strangers while travelling in a train. He usually reads a book or listens to music looking through the window, the vast canvas that nature presents, brings joy to him. He was contemplating on picking up the book again when the catering staff brought his dinner. He finished his dinner peacefully alone and washed up. He prepared his bedding and switched off the main lights, only blue night lamp in the corridor were lighted. He pulled up the blanket to cover his head and was soon in deep slumber.

The train was cruising at a decent speed when there was loud noise and the train stopped with a jerk. Indrajit woke up with a startle, the train coach was pitch dark, even the blue night lamp on the corridor was not on anymore. He sat up on his berth looking to figure out what has happened; when his eyesight settled in the darkness, he realized someone was occupying the opposite berth. The train started moving again, the night lamp too started glowing and in that feint light, Indrajit figured that the new occupant is a young woman with an infant. She had her head covered with her dupatta or the scarves as is the local custom for married women.

The ticket checker had said there will be a family of three coming for the vacant berths, where are the other two members? Indrajit was in a dilemma… what if the others got left behind… he asked, “Are you alone? Where’s rest of your family?”

The woman kept quiet, did not respond… probably did not understand English. He tried again, this time in Hindi but the woman still did not respond. It would be impolite to press further, Indrajit thought as he lied down to sleep again. But the sleep eluded him, he felt something is amiss. After a while the infant started crying, the woman sang a lullaby to sooth the baby but it had no effect, the infant was hungry, probably. The woman turned the other way to feed the baby, Indrajit got up to take a stroll while giving her some privacy. He walked along the corridor to the other side of the coach… he was surprised that all the other occupants were fast asleep, oblivious to the crying of the infant. He opened the coach door and felt the gush of fresh warm air. He lit a cigarette took few quick puffs before throwing it, closing the door, he walked back towards his berth. He saw the woman with the infant walking to the other side of the coach. She walked out of the AC cabin, intrigued, Indrajit followed her… just in case she needs any help. He stood behind the glass door watching them. The woman holding the baby in one arm, opened the compartment door, a gush of wind caught her, letting go her dupatta, a beautiful young woman turned towards coach door retrieving the dupatta and covering her face. The woman then stood dangerously close to the door cooing to the infant. Suddenly, she lost the balance due to the movement of the speeding train and the infant flew out her arm into the darkness outside. She flung herself in the air behind the child in a futile attempt to catch the disappearing infant. Indrajit, involuntarily let out a cry for help waking up the others in the coach. He rushed to the open door to see outside but only pitch darkness greeted him. He shouted to his travelers, “A lady with her infant just fell out of the train.” Then without waiting for the others to act, he pulled the emergency chain with full strength. The train came to a halt in the middle of nowhere. He along with few others climbed down to check but by then the train had covered a good distance from where the woman had jumped.

The railway guard and the driver along with few policemen came to the coach from which the emergency chain was pulled. “Who pulled the chain and why?” asked the guard. The co-passengers pointed towards Indrajit, “He pulled the chain” they spoke in unison.

“Why?” asked the guard again.

“The infant slipped away from the woman’s arm and she jumped to save her child.”

“What woman? Which berth?” asked the guard.

“She was on the berth opposite mine. Probably came in from the last station.” Indrajit replied.

“Sir, the train is running non-stop since we started without halting even for a minute.” The guard replied clearly irritated for this unnecessary delay.

“The berth, you are referring is vacant, the reservation is from the next station which is still few hours away.” The ticket checker chipped in.

The driver had been silent all this while, now he spoke, “Do you recall the woman? Was she young with an infant, maybe 3-4 months old?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” Indrajit replied enthusiastically.

“Oh no, she’s appeared again.” The driver said.

“Who’s woman? Do you know her?” asked the guard.

“Sir, few years ago, I was the co-driver on that fateful night, a young woman with her infant son was travelling in the AC Coach. The kid was crying a lot, so she came out and was standing on the doorway when the child slipped away from her arm. She jumped after him to save but both of the died that night. The bodies were found in the morning by the villagers.”

Indrajit was visibly shaken. The driver put a hand around his shoulder and assured him, “She only shows up once in a while but has never harmed anyone.”

The guard hurried everyone back in the train and signaled the driver to continue. Indrajit thought he wouldn’t get any more sleep that night. However, the gentle swinging of the train put him to sleep anyways.

The sudden jerk woke him up. All his senses became hyper active as the crying of a baby wafted through the air. He sat up and froze instantly… the woman with the infant was sitting on the berth right opposite his.

Posted on by Aranyascope

The Diary of Anama (the Unknown)

Our dedicated rag buyer (mainly old newspaper, magazine, glass bottles and old utensils) comes every quarter to pickup from our home. Sometimes, he brings some old books which if I like, buy them from him. Last week when he came, he had an old leather folder diary amongst the books. I was intrigued and bought it from him, hoping to get a refill and polish the leather to make it new.

In the evening, I took out the diary, the first page just had the name of the owner, Sanjeev, no surname, no address or contact details. The pages had lost some color turning them off-white… the initial pages turned out to be regular entries of the day’s events, nothing exciting. There were few blank pages and then a story unfolded as I read on…

Tuesday March 17

Today, out of the blue, I received a letter from grandpa-2 (my father’s uncle). Two years ago, he suddenly left home in search of his son who had gone missing during a college excursion. He did not inform anyone at home about his or my cousin’s whereabouts and we assumed the worst has happened to both of them. Now, this letter from him puzzled me…

“Dear Sanjeev,

By the time you receive this letter, I may not be alive anymore. If you can, please come immediately to Narottampur. You have to take the train to Dhanbad, then by bus to Shikarpur and from there you can take the rickshaw to Onkarnath Ashram at Narottampur. Please ask anyone in the Ashram for the house of Govindram, they will direct you. Yes, people here know me by that name only. In case I die before meeting you, please do my final rites at home.

Love and blessings

Grandpa-2”      

Wednesday March 18

The whole affair of grandpa-2 is very confusing… living under a pseudo name at a far away place like Narottampur in the ashram of some Onkarnath… I don’t know what to make of this.

Thursday March 19

I took the overnight train to Dhanbad, just told my parents that I am going out for three days on office work.

Friday March 20

I reached Narottampur in the afternoon. The place looked more like a large village rather than a town, sparsely populated with houses standing randomly in the distance. A passerby directed me to the Onkarnath Ashram, a barricaded large plot with a temple and few quarters for the inmates. I found a priest inside the temple and asked him about Govindram’s house.

“Where are you coming from?” the priest asked with a look of bewilderment.

“Kolkata”

“You have come from far to Narottampur to meet Govindram, what’s the matter?”

“Something special, you won’t understand.”

“Govindram doesn’t meet anyone. Moreover, the house where he lives is not good, it has bad reputation. We don’t go anywhere near it. You shouldn’t go there, if you take my advice.”

“I have to go.”

The priest was not impressed, reluctantly he directed him to Govindram’s house, “Go straight, after you cross the pond on your left, you can see his house next to it.”

I followed the direction and soon could see a single storey dilapidated structure by the pond. Getting closer, I could see wild shrubs and grass growing all over the place. There was a narrow path leading to the building and followed it to reach the house. The door was wide open, I looked inside to find a middle-aged man preparing lunch. “Does Govindram Ji live here?” I asked.

The man looked at me with astonishment, then excitedly asked, “Are you the grandson of Sahib?”

“Yes, I have come to meet my grandpa.” I didn’t know who the Sahib is but guessed he is my grandpa-2.

“Please come inside, Sahib is not too well.”

I followed him to an inner room, a large cot occupying most of the space and a skeletal figure lying on it. Even though he was in complete disarray, I could recognise my grandpa-2.  His eyes lit up when he saw me and he tried to sit up but couldn’t… I rushed forward to hold him. He took my hands in his and said, “I am glad you could make it on time. I have been waiting for you.”

“What happened to you grandpa? Tomorrow, I am taking you to Kolkata for treatment.”

“I am not going anywhere. Now that you are here, I can die peacefully.”

“How did you land up here in Narottampur?”

Grandpa-2 was in visible discomfort, he slowly took out a notebook kept under his pillow and handing it over to me said, “I have written down everything in this notebook, you will know all the details once you read it. You must follow the instructions… Sitaram will help you. The devil will try to stop you. But don’t be scared, the god will help you.”

Before he could say anything more, a bout of cough stopped him. He again tried to sit up with great difficulty, I helped him sit and asked Sitaram to get a glass of water. He took a sip from the glass and looked at me, his eyes had lost all colors, he started shivering and that moment shouted, “There, he is…he has come to claim my body. Run, run away…”

Grandpa’s held tilted on its side, body gave away, I checked the non-existent pulse.

“Grandpa is dead. Please call some neighbour for the last rites.” I told Sitaram.

“No one will come, you and I will have to do the cremation. We will cremate him on the banks of the pond only. I will go and get the necessary items from the market. You stay with him.”

I took out some money and gave them to Sitaram. I was feeling bad and frustrated… I couldn’t save my grandpa-2, I wanted to take him back with me but failed. I sat there grieving. Suddenly, my eyes caught the sight of the notebook that grandpa-2 had given me, awhile ago. I opened it. There is no mention of any date or year but I could make out that grandpa-2 had been writing for quite some time. The style of writing is like a diary without dates.

Today is the Friday, I have come to Gopalpur in search of my son, Sushant. Some acquaintance in Dhanbad informed that a young boy of Sushant’s description has been seen in the vicinity of the ashram of a tantrik near the river, next to the cremation ground. On the other side of the river is the forest, no residential quarters in the vicinity.

As I reached the ashram, the tantrik shouted, “Come here, I know who you are looking for, he is with me only.”  

I sat at the feet of the tantrik crying, “Where’s my son Sushant, please tell me…take me to him, I want to see him right now.”

The tantrik ruffled my hair and soothingly said, “You have come from far, take rest now, I will take you to him at night.”

I could barely wait for the nightfall and visited the tantrik as soon as it became dark. “Please take me to my son, wherever he is” I requested the tantrik.

The tantrik looked at me with burning eyes that put shiver down my spine. The tantrik did not utter any word but signalled me to follow him. We reached behind the ashram where a dome shaped structure lay abandoned. The tantrik unlocked the door and asked me to enter. No lights were there so I switched on my torch. I saw a staircase going down to the basement, the tantrik commanded me to go down to the basement.

The basement room wasn’t too big, a trident has been placed in the middle of the room and large wooden trunk lay by the wall. The tantrik asked me to open the trunk.

As soon as I lifted the lid of the trunk, a putrid smell hit my nostrils. What’s inside? I focused the torch inside the trunk and let out a cry. Sushant is lying inside like a stone sculpture as if in a deep slumber. I tried to touch him, lift him out of the trunk but the tantrik stopped me, “Don’t touch him.”

The tantrik closed the lid of the trunk. I cried out, “Please, I won’t go anywhere without my son.”

The tantrik spoke softly, “Sushant is no longer yours or mine, he has gone to another world.”

“Then why have you kept his body in this trunk?” I asked defiantly.

“Come up with me, I will explain.” The tantrik said.

We came up and sat down on the porch of the tantrik’s hut. We were sitting facing each other, his eyes were burning from the smoke of the cannabis. He took few quick puffs of the cannabis and started speaking, “When I found your son, he was in a very bad shape, running high fever and unconscious under the Ashoka tree.”

“How did he reach here?”

“I don’t know, maybe he was going somewhere else but got lost. I was coming from the cremation ground when I saw him and brought him here. I tried to save him but he passed away after three days. Before he died, he called out for you.”

“When did he die?”

“About a fortnight ago. I knew, you will come looking for him. That’s why I have kept his body in the basement. It is because of my occult powers that his body hasn’t decomposed yet.”

I was finding it difficult to believe the tantrik but before I could say anything, he said, “You rest now, I have to go the cremation ground for the rituals. I will see you in the morning.”

I sat there alone, the thoughts of Sushant kept haunting me. The approaching footsteps on the dry leaves broke my reverie, I looked up to find the disciple of the tantrik, Shivratan coming my way. He had brought food for me. He looked afraid, he checked the surrounding to be sure there was no else, then whispered, “Please run away from here now, immediately. The spirits of the netherworld will swoop down any moment now.”

“My son is here, I can’t leave him behind.”

“Who is your son?”

“Sushant, he is in the basement of the dome room behind the ashram.”

“Oh my God, that kid is your son? You will hear him cry for help, very soon.”

“But, he is dead.”

Shivratan, visibly shaken, again looked around and spoke in a low voice, “The tantrik, through his occult powers have kept his soul inside the body. The soul is trying to release but can’t and that’s why it cries for help every night.”

“But the tantrik said that he has kept him there for me.”

“Lies. If you can, please release his soul from the body.”

There was footstep approaching us, Shivratan got up saying, “Don’t say a word to the tantrik otherwise he will kill me and keep my soul in the trunk.”

Shivratan left in a hurry; I sat there alone again. Suddenly, I heard someone crying in the distance. It was a cry of extreme pain. I came out and walked towards the crying sound… it stopped as suddenly as it had started. I could hear the winds and the sound of waves hitting the shore. I came back. The day’s events and the exhaustion were too much, I found a cot inside the hut and crashed on it.

I felt Sushant is standing in front of me, his body is crumpling in pain. The face is white, devoid of color, the eyes begging for mercy. He spoke but I couldn’t make out what, I felt his pain and screamed aloud. I woke up and found myself alone sitting on the cot.

In the morning, I told the tantrik, “I want to cremate my son’s remains.”

The tantrik looked at me gravely for sometime then said, “I will bring him back to life.”

I understood that the tantrik has some ulterior motive, he won’t allow me to cremate my son. He will keep the body in the basement for his occult practice.

The miserable face of Sushant kept haunting me. I decided to bring out his body and cremate it somehow. Shivratan realised my determination and came to me as soon as the tantrik went to the river for bathing, “You can’t do anything during the day. Once the tantrik goes to the cremation ground for the rituals, we will bring out the body and cremate it.”

“If he gets to know that you helped me, he will kill you.” I warned him.

“I will run away before he realises it.” Shavratan assured me.

 The day passed stressfully for I didn’t know what to expect when Shivratan and I attempt to cremate my son. By evening the tension was palpable, I couldn’t sit anymore; I went out to the river front to calm my nerves. I saw the tantrik walk out from the ashram heading towards the cremation ground. I walked back to the ashram to find Shivratan waiting for me. He had managed to steal the key to the dome room. We silently went to there and Shivratan unlocked the door. He was visibly afraid so I asked him stay out of sight and went down to retrieve my son’s mortal remains.

I opened the lid of the trunk, Sushant looked same as I had seen him yesterday. With some effort I pulled him out and lifted him on my shoulder ready to go up the stairs. Just then I froze at the sight of the tantrik standing at the top. His fiery eyes were ready to burn me to ashes. He jumped down and shoved me down to the ground. He picked up the body of Sushant and climbing the stairs said, “I am taking him with me, I will lock you up here for eternity.”

At that moment, the idea of revenge is all that I could think of… I picked up the trident and stabbed the tantrik with humongous strength. He fell down the stairs to his death. I lifted up the mortal remains of my son which started to decompose rapidly. The occult powers of the tantrik was not working anymore. Shivratan, probably had ran away seeing the tantrik, so I carried my son’s body to the riverfront and arranging the wood, lit the pyre.

I thought of returning home but realised that I have committed a murder… what if the police comes after me there… the family name would tarnish. In the wee hours, I left Gopalpur getting into the first train that came on the platform. I had no clue where I am heading but when the train stopped at the Dhanbad station I got down there along with few other sanyasis. We walked through the day and reached Shikarpur in the evening. We took shelter at an abandoned house the zamindar. We had a frugal dinner and slept on the veranda.

I don’t know what time it was when I felt a sudden storm swept over me. Instantly I woke up and saw the tantrik standing a few feet away looking at me with bloodshot eyes, ready to burn me to ashes. I screamed, when my fellow sanyasis came, the tantrik had disappeared. I realized, the tantrik even after death will not leave me.

Next day along with the sanyasis, I came here at the Onkarnath Ashram. As soon as I retired for the bed, the tantrik started harassing me, I couldn’t sleep a wink throughout the night.

I left the ashram as morning broke, no point in involving others in my fight with the tantrik. I wandered around the town till I found this abandoned house. I decided to stay put there fending off the nefarious intents of the tantrik. I can’t explain in words, how I have lived for so long despite the daily harassment by the dead tantrik. People around got to know that I deal with the spirits and started avoiding me. Only Sitaram stayed on with me taking care maybe because I had taken care of him when he was down with small pox and the villagers had thrown him out from the village. I brought him here and looked after him till he was healthy again. Now, he is stays with me all day and goes back to his home at night. Every night, the tantrik comes to room to scare me to death, harassing me… I know my death is imminent… only then I will be free from the tentacles of the tantrik, perhaps.

The tantrik will use all his might to capture my soul and convert me into a zombie, Sitaram can’t resist him. I pray to God to save my soul.

There was nothing more in the notebook. I waited for the return of Sitaram with the items required for the last rites of my grandpa-2. It was getting dark with clouds forming in the distant horizon. I realized, a thunderstorm is more than a possibility.

Sitaram came with the items along with a young man, “He is Divakar, I brought him to help us.”

“Let’s hurry before the thunderstorm strikes.” I urged them.

By the time the pyre was set and we brought the body of grandpa-2, the thunderstorm lashed the surrounding with fury, heavy rain poured down incessantly. There was no option but wait for the rain to stop. I was feeling scared, I kept a firm hold of grandpa’s hand. I had a feeling that some unknown force was trying loosen my grip. The intensity of the storm was getting stronger instead of relenting. The sky was lighting up frequently with lightening strikes. Suddenly, I felt movement of grandpa’s body…  it’s moving away… I shouted, “Sitaram, some unknown force is pulling away grandpa.”

Sitaram dived on grandpa’s body to stop it from sliding away. The movement stopped immediately. The intensity of rain increased; the raindrops hit us like multiple needles piercing the body but we stayed put. The weather became unusually chill for a summer month, we were shivering. The rain relented after almost an hour. We set up the pyre again and placed the body of grandpa-2 on it, set it to fire. A sudden gust of wind doused the fire, we lit it again. The fire engulfed the pyre with fury.

Suddenly, there was a deafening screeching shout, some unseen force started throwing the burning logs from the pyre in the water. We shrunk in terror unable to move. We lost the sense of time. A sound of something rolling on the ground shook us from our numbness, grandpa’s body was rolling down to the river. I jumped over the burning pyre ignoring the flames and stopped the body from going into the watery grave. Sitaram and I lifted the half burnt muddy body of grandpa on to the pyre.

The night was giving away to the morning, in a while the dawn will break, suddenly Divakar shrieked in fear and pointed towards the pyre. What we saw was bone chilling… the burnt body of grandpa had risen from the pyre and walking towards the pond. I realised the scheming tantrik is trying to take the body of my grandpa. I was feeling helpless, with great courage I picked up a burning log and hit legs of my grandpa. The body crumpled with loud noise of breaking bones. With the help of Sitaram and Divakar, I pushed back the body on the pyre.

After a while, the dawn broke, grandpa’s body had become a pile of ash. I washed up the ashes, took a dip in the pond and felt relieved. Coming back home, I didn’t tell anyone about the unbelievable ordeal that I encountered. Who would have believed!!