I finished my work, essentially gathering market information about a bunch of products that were launched in the region. It entailed not just visiting the dealership but the local markets as well. The reports gathered so far has been very encouraging. The north Bihar markets have always favoured our products courtesy the sales team lead by the Regional Manager. I took the same taxi from Muzaffarpur to Patna that had brought me there from Raxaul. Though, the Regional Manager, Mr. Lal had invited me to have dinner with him, I had declined preferring to have it at the Hotel Pintu near the station. I have heard stories about this eatery from my mother; in the early 50’s my parents were living in Patna and many a evening, my father used pack food from this eatery for the family.

I forced the driver to come along with me to the restaurant for dinner, our last meal, a breakfast of Puri-Sabji and Chai at the Muzaffarpur dealer’s shop and now we were starving. The driver, Ranjit Kumar was vegetarian and I preferred vegetarian food while on tour, easy to digest. We had two kinds of sabji and dal tadka with tandoori rotis, a very satisfying meal, tasty as well. Ranjit dropped me near the platform, I paid him a healthy tip and told him to collect the fare from the office in the morning as Mr. Lal had instructed when the cab was booked for me.      

I headed for the first-class retiring room and found myself a nice sofa at the corner of the room. I settled down to read the book I was carrying, the train, Rajdhani Express to New Delhi wasn’t expected before midnight, enough time to finish the last 150 odd pages.

“Isn’t that Raman?”

I was startled by the booming voice and turned around to see Dipanjan Sir standing at the door of the retiring room with a small stroller, quite similar to mine. He was my boss in my previous organization, much older to me but a towering figure in the marketing field.

“Yes Sir. How are you? Frankly, I am surprised to see you here. Where have you been?” I replied.

Dipanjan Sinha came in and settled down on the single sofa chair and pulled out a cheroot from his jacket pocket, a luxury he indulged since the time I know him. He lit it up taking a long puff and blowing a series of smoky rings in the air.

“I came to attend the wedding of childhood friend’s son at the Govindpur village, 3,5-4 hours from Patna. It’s a small village nestled on the banks of Ganges.” He stopped to take another puff.

“How did the functions go? Did you enjoy the hospitality of your friend?” I poked him.

“Well, till yesterday morning, it was going fine, I was enjoying the pollution-free weather and fresh air of the village, the mobile network is practically non-existent, so no outside interference too but something happened last evening that changed everything.”

I smelled of a story more interesting than the fiction novel I was going to read… so poked him, “Please tell me your life altering story.”

“It’s not a story but fact” his voice boomed in the empty retiring room.

Dipanjan lit his cheroot again and took few quick puffs and began…

Shankar Singh Deo, my friend comes from an extremely wealthy zamindar family and was with me in St. Xavier school although. We became very good friends and were the opening batters of the school team. After school he went to Hindu College while I took English honours at St. Stephens and then did my masters at JNU. He became an IPS officer of Bihar Cadre. We kept touch with each other and met whenever possible. I was sceptical of visiting a village in Bihar but came because of his insistence.

Another few quick puffs…

The Govindpur Village is quite nice and even though small, on the banks of Ganges with large tracts of cultivated fields, very unlike the other villages of the state. Shankar’s palatial house situated right on the banks of the river is 3 stories high on a 10-acre plot with a swimming pool and a tennis court. A horse stable and a fleet of luxury cars, he’s ancestrally rich.  

I was given a warm welcome by Shankar’s family; he introduced me to his large extended family. He took me aside and said, “Sorry bro, as per customs, I can’t serve non-veg to you and as the state is under prohibition, can’t serve alcohol.” I winked at him and said, “I have enough stock of the latter, you can join me in my room.”

In the evening, the entire place, the lawns, the palatial house were lighted up beautifully. I could not help but notice that the top floor of the building was in complete darkness, maybe it was electrical malfunction, I thought. It was the Sangeet and Cocktail evening and I wondered what they are going to serve as cocktails!! My concern was soon answered when I was served a glass of coke with handsome pouring of Rum, my favorite drink. The evening was a grand success, the youngsters kept their dancing tempo with popular Bollywood songs. The vegetarian food was finger licking delicious and the spread was large. Something funny happened when I was having food, a young man came and discreetly put some fish fries on my plate before vanishing amongst the guests.

Maybe because of the exhaustion and/or the Rum intake, I had a sound dreamless sleep at night. The breakfast was laid at the lawns, the warm winter sun made the atmosphere very pleasant. I dug into the Dhuska with Aloo-Chana sabji following it with warm cup of black coffee. Sitting in the lawn, I noticed that the top floor of the building was not adorned with any lights at all, it was not electrical fault as I had thought. I was intrigued and sought an answer from Shankar’s nephew sitting on my table. He evaded any direct answer and suggested that I check with his uncle.

In the afternoon, after lunch, I finally caught hold of Shankar and asked him why the top floor of the building was not lighted. His face became grave, “Let’s not talk about it. We do not have any good memories about that floor. Nobody goes to that floor, it’s kind of abandoned. In fact, I am thinking of demolishing the structure there and keep it as open roof, may create a garden.”

But why? I insisted.

“Well, if you really want to know, my grandfather was murdered in his own bedroom on that floor by his cousin. My father was studying in college in Patna and only family member present was my grandmother and aunt. My grandfather’s cousin announced that he died of heart failure took over the reigns of the zamindari. But it was short-lived as within a months’ time he fell down from the roof and died. Some says that he committed suicide while others say that my grandfather’s spirit pushed him to his death. Whatever it is, my father decided to leave that floor as vacant, once a week in the daylight, the floor is cleaned up to maintain the sanctity.”

Can we have a look at the place? I insisted again.

Shankar called for the keys to the floor and we walked up the stairs to the third floor. The floor was only half constructed, the rest is open roof. The constructed area has a large hall for meeting visitors and holding parties, two large bedrooms with attached bathrooms with dresser and a pantry large enough to be classified as kitchen. I liked the place and the daredevil bug inside me woke up smelling adventure. I told him that I wanted to spend the night in that room before leaving the place. Shankar tried to dissuade me but I was adamant. I moved my belongings to the room that was once occupied by Shankar’s grandfather and where he was allegedly murdered.

After the wedding ceremonies were over and most guests have departed, I went to Shankar and his wife to congratulate them take their leave. “Please think it over, Dipanjan. Although, I do not believe in paranormal but that floor has been lying abandoned for decades, there could be snakes or some poisonous insects coming out at night. Moreover, there’s no electrical connection in that floor, you will have to rely on your torch and the lanterns. I have arranged for few lanterns to light up the floor as much possible but still there are pockets of darkness.” Shankar tried a last bit effort to stop me but I ignored and climbed up to the third floor. The place seemed different from the afternoon visit; the lanterns placed at different places created a light n shadow play. I was tired after the day’s activity, it was past midnight, I took my medicines and slept.

I woke up by the sound of someone walking with a stick in the hall. I checked my watch which said it was 4:30 am. Who could it be? I wondered. I got out of the bed lighting the torch given by Shankar and went to check the hall. An old man in dressing gown was walking up and down the hall with the help of a stick. He stopped looking at me and apologised, “Sorry, I woke you up.”

“No, it’s okay but who are you and what are you doing here? I was told that no one lives on this floor.” I replied with askance.

“Actually, I live here only but Shankar doesn’t know about my existence.” He replied mystically.

“Okay, why don’t you come in the bedroom and relax? The bed is big enough for both of us.”

The old man followed me to the bedroom at sat at one corner of the bed. “I can’t sleep at night, why don’t you go back to sleep?” he said not looking at me.

I don’t know why but I said, “I think you have a story to tell. I am all ears, tell me.”

The old man turned towards me, in the light of the lantern, I could see it was drained of colors, almost chalk white, the eyes have gone into cavity, overall, the man was skeleton thin. He looked straight into my eyes and said, “Will you believe what I tell you?”

Why not?

“I am the grandfather of Shankar. This floor was my living quarter as well as office where I used to meet people during the day for business and have parties with friends in the evening. I had created a flourishing zamindari besides businesses from timber trade to mining.” He stopped to take breath and then continued.

“One day, my cousin came to me asking for shelter. He had become bankrupt in speculative business and sought refuge with me. I could not refuse and took him in. I engaged him in the administration of the zamindari alongside the manager of the estate. I was happy that he enjoyed the work and there was no rivalry between him and the manager. Almost a year had past and everything seemed settled when suddenly I fell ill and was bedridden. The doctor, a close friend, one day when there was nobody in the room, told me that my cousin along with the manager was conspiring to kill me and take over the zamindari and the businesses. I was aghast and decided to confront my cousin immediately. I got the opportunity when he came to see me in the evening. I told him that I know about the conspiracy he has been hatching and he should leave the estate immediately or else I will throw him out in the morning. Moreover, if he showed up again, he will be killed and no one will get to see his body. My cousin first denied the conspiracy then got aggressive physically assaulting me. I was weak due to my illness; he strangled me with his bare hands. I died.” He stopped.

I was shocked by his incredulous story which was writ on my face. The old man smiled and said, “I see, you don’t believe me. Let me show you how he killed me.”

Saying so, the old man started strangling himself, his tongue came out, the eyes started bulging out from the socket. I felt dizzy and tried to stop him but couldn’t. I lost my senses and collapsed on the bed. I don’t know how long I was senseless but when I opened my eyes, I saw Shankar and others are looking at me with concern.

Dipanjan Sinha stopped and lit up his cheroot once more and just then the loudspeaker announced the imminent arrival of the Rajdhani Express. I picked up my bag and rushed towards the platform stopping at the door for Dipanjan to join me.

“Hurry up Sir” I said and turned to look at him. The empty room looked back at me.

Epilogue

I was sure that I had a dream sitting on the sofa at the first-class retiring room of Patna Junction Station. In the days to follow, I got extremely busy with financial and business year ending followed by the annual sales and marketing conference.

Then one day, I met my brother at the club and he asked, “Do you know Dipanjan Sinha, your ex-boss, is no more. He died of cardiac arrest in a remote village of Bihar.”

I was stunned, no words came out of me.    

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

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

“Are you Bengali?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bolangir” I replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about the vehicle?” I asked feebly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunil was walking through the jungle track. He had checked in the small hotel almost adjacent to the jungle of Sariska, Rajasthan. Once upon a time this used to be a thick sprawling jungle full of flora n fauna but now humans have taken upon the jungle land for agriculture and residential and commercial use pushing the animals back into the deeper part of the jungle.

He was looking for the ancient temple of Bhairav, the manager at the hotel had given him the direction which he followed to reach at the temple but found it in ruins and abandoned. He was told that the place is serene and has a calming effect on those who visit. He looked around the place which was much greener than the rest of the jungle that he had come through, he could hear the sound of flowing water at a distance, other than that there was pin-drop silence. He liked it. He thought, I will come again in the morning and explore further, maybe go and check the water source as well. Sunil is city bred, grown up and living in the busy Karol Bagh of Delhi where it is always noisy and full of people, he liked the jungle for the lack of those very thing. He really enjoyed the serenity of the place. “What a beautiful place, wonder who built this temple in the middle of the jungle?” he spoke to himself.

“Yes, indeed this is a beautiful place”. Someone spoke from his behind startling Sunil. He turned back to find his long-lost friend Vikas… “Is that you, Vikas?” he shouted in excitement.

The guy named Vikas is of the same age as Sunil but exceptionally slim and had a serious demeanour, he spoke slowly, “Yes, I am the forest officer here.”

“Where did you vanish after the college? I kept looking for you and got know that your family has moved away from Karol Bagh without any forwarding address.” Sunil asked.

“Well, my father, the only earning member, passed away suddenly, my maternal uncle took us to his home in Burdwan. He sent me to Guwahati, Assam to work at the company of his friend. The pay was very low, so I sat for the exams to get into a govt job and was selected to be the forest officer here.” Vikas told him again in a slow monotonous voice.

“So, how long are you here?” enquired Sunil.

“A little over a year now…” before Vikas could continue there were sounds of people approaching, probably a group of students in excursion or trek. Vikas became little agitated with the approaching noise, “I will go now, but come tomorrow, I will meet you here again. I have something to share with you” saying this Vikas walked into the thick foliage and vanished. Sunil waited for some time to see the group of teenagers walk by talking animatedly. Sunil thought, Vikas was his best friend in the college, quite upright, always standing up against any kind of atrocity, helping the weak in their fight for justice. He used to be quite sturdy, muscled and strong. What happened to him, he looks like skeleton now, maybe the life in the jungle has taken a toll on his health. Sunil followed the path taken by the teenagers to reach back to his hotel.

Just as he was entering his hotel, he saw there was a forest office on the opposite side. He hesitated a bit before approaching it. There were two forest officials sitting in the office, he asked one of them, “Do you know where I can find Vikas, about 30 years old, I believe he is a forest office here. I met him in the jungle few minutes back but he was in a hurry and left before I could take down his address.” The officers looked at each other and then at Sunil, anxiety mixed with fear was writ on their faces, the other officer in a cracked voice asked, “What name you said?”

“Vikas Dutta.” Sunil told him.

“Look, it’s a vast jungle with many forest offices and numerous officers and staff, it is not possible to know every individual. You may check at other camp offices.” The officer replied as a matter fact.

Sunil could sense, something was amiss, the officers were hiding information from him, but why? He couldn’t figure out but decided not to peruse further. He decided to go back to the temple and check if Vikas is still around there.

Sunil had a nap after lunch and woke up around 4 pm, got ready and left for the Bhairav temple. As he entered the jungle path leading to the temple, the weather changed, the air became still and heavy, there was absolute silence all around. Sunil was in a trance as he rapidly walked towards the temple. He reached the temple and shouted, “Vikas, Vikas, where are you”? there was no response, he walked up the broken steps of the temple, the door was closed. It has been closed for many years now with mud accumulating at the base making it difficult to open. He tried to push but failed.

Sunil wondered if Vikas would still be around in this part of the jungle? He was questioning himself, why did he come here in this darkening evening. Surely, Vikas have to be present at other locations of the jungle as well and he wouldn’t be waiting for him here. He decided to return to the hotel.

As he turned from the temple, he was surprised to see Vikas standing at a distance from him wearing the same uniform of the forest officer that he was wearing in the morning, though his hair was in disarray. “Where did you vanish in the morning and why? I went to enquire about you at the forest office but they couldn’t tell me anything about you”. Sunil spoke with mild irritation in his voice.

“I knew you will come; I was waiting for you since morning” Vikas spoke, again slowly in the same monotonous voice.

“But did you run away? Why are you scared of the people?” Sunil asked angrily.

He could sense visible fear on his friend’s face, he looked terrified of some unknown fear. Vikas looked around and then spoke, almost whispering, “They are looking for me, if they catch me…” before he could finish, a voice came through, “Hey, hey, hey…” a shepherd boy trying to control his flock of sheep and making the sound. Sunil watched them go past and turned towards Vikas only to find that he has vanished again.

“Hey, Vikas, where are you?” he shouted. “I need to talk to you, come out.”

Vikas came out from behind the temple. “What’s wrong with you? Why do you hide as soon as other people appear? What are you afraid of? I am a journalist with ANI, I can surely help, you just have to ask…I know lot of senior officers in the govt and police department, I can talk to them” Sunil said.

The eyes of Vikas lighted up for a moment, then he said, “Forget about me, it’s getting dark in the jungle, you better leave now. The jungle is not a safe place after dark.”

“Okay fine, but you walk with me to my hotel, we can talk there… let’s have dinner together. We are meeting after such a…” Sunil couldn’t finish, sound of a motorcycle approaching could be heard. He looked at Vikas but he was nowhere to be seen. Sunil jumped on the temple parapet and hid behind a pillar. The motorcycle came into view, two forest officers with rifles were riding, they stopped at the temple and one of them went to the temple door to check. He shouted back, “All is okay.” Then they rode on to the forest path. Sunil came out in the open, so did Vikas. “Come here in the morning, I will tell you my story” saying this Vikas walked into the dense forest and vanished.

Sunil couldn’t sleep well throughout the night and kept thinking about Vikas… what he’s afraid of and what story he wants to tell me… he finally slept in the wee hours of the morning.

He had a quick breakfast and left for the Bhairav Temple. He has only this morning to find out the mystery of Vikas, tomorrow, he must join office .  

He reached the temple premises half expecting to find Vikas but there was no one in the vicinity, the air is still and kind of heavy. He decided to wait for some time, since he has come, no point turning back without knowing the story of Vikas. He waited for almost half hour and still no signs of Vikas, he thought, probably, Vikas has nothing to say, I am wasting time…

“I am here” hearing the faint voice of Vikas, he turned around.

Vikas was standing near the temple door, he hand signaled Sunil to come close. Vikas pushed the door and it opened with crackling noise. He went inside and asked Sunil to follow.

Sunil stopped on his track, as a rotten, putrid smell emanated from inside the temple. He took out his handkerchief to mask his nose from the foul smell before entering the temple.

The idol inside temple looked terrifying with vermillion pasted on the upper portion of the face, the temple was dark except the light coming through the open door. Sunil switched on his phone light. The idol was broken at many places looking even more grotesque. Vikas was at the back of the idol and asked Sunil to come there.

Vikas pointed at the corner of the platform of the idol. Sunil could make out that the brick there is loose as if it was taken out and placed again. “Look under it.” Vikas whispered.

Sunil lifted the brick to find a packet in the hollow under the brick. “What’s inside the packet?” he asked but there was no response. He looked where Vikas was standing but an emptiness looked back to him. Suddenly, he started shivering, he called out, “Vikas, where are you?” only his voice echoed back. He was perspiring now; with great effort he came out running and did not stop till he reached the safety of his hotel room.

Once he had calmed down, he opened the packet. A pen-drive fell out of it; also, a notebook and an unsealed envelope addressed to Vikas’s mother. Against his principles, he decided to read the letter…

“Dear Maa,

I am in grave danger here in the forest camp. There are three forest officers in connivance with a poacher is doing great harm to the forest. They are killing the animals for their skin and other body parts and selling them at high prices. I have photographed them in action and recorded them in the pen-drive. These people have come to know that I know about their illegal operation. They came to my home few days back but fortunately I wasn’t at home then. Since then, I am hiding from them…don’t know how long I can evade these people…they are many… a gang. They have been threatening me to hand over the pictures or else they will kill me. I am not scared to die but I am going to expose these evil people. Don’t worry for me.

Your loving son,

Vikas”

Sunil sat with the letter for some time thinking about next course of action. The letter was dated four months ago and the envelope had an address. He wondered with whom he had been interacting in the jungle! He made up his mind. He packed up, paid the hotel bill and drove back to Delhi.

Sunil remained busy with office work all through the week but on the weekend drove down to Noida at the address mentioned on the envelope. Vikas’s mother told him that about three months back, the forest department informed her that Vikas is missing after he went for the evening round of the forest and they fear that he may have become a victim of tiger attack deep inside the jungle.

Sunil could figure out the entire story, his friend has been murdered in cold blood. He set up a meeting with the Secretary in the Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change (MoEFCC) with all the evidence which Vikas had documented in the pen-drive. He also showed his last letter to his mother and photographs taken by Vikas before his brutal murder.

Next, he published the complete story as a syndicated news which was carried by all the leading news publishing houses. The news channels on television picked up the story and flashed it on their prime time. The social media carried it further to create a pressure on the administration to act on it. The police arrested the culprits who admitted to the killing; the skeleton of Vikas was dug out from behind the temple, his mother identified it through the gold ring still hanging on his finger.

Sunil attended the cremation of Vikas and carried his ashes to Haridwar to immerse in the Ganges.