This is the story of my friend’s father.

I had just got promoted to Class 9 after spending two years in the previous class. However, within the first week of the first month of school reopening, the teachers realized I was not going to make the next grade with other students. Therefore, mid-session I was handed my transfer certificate and unceremoniously thrown out. It was difficult to get admission in any school in Dhaka at this time and I was totally at loss about my next move.

My Uncle asked me to join him at Jamalpur where he was a well known political figure and headed the board of few schools. I got admission in one of the schools where he was a director and started the new session. When you join mid-session, it raises lot of curiosity among the existing students but within a week they make you their friends. So, in next 10 days, I made some good friends – Saiful, Shanu, Lakhin, Jahangir, Munni, Aarifa, Dancing Shiela, Wrestler Shiela and many more.

The story is about Saiful’s father. Saiful was the first boy of the class but he was not into studies 24×7 like most other first boys. Therefore, soon we became very close friends. Almost at the end of class 9, I got to know that Saiful’s father had married twice and Saiful and his two sisters are born of the first marriage. The second marriage did not yield any child. His father was rich in the sense that he own lots of landed property. He wanted to keep Saiful with him as the second marriage proved to be childless but Saiful’s mother did not agree and took him away to ensure he goes to a school and become educated.

Though, it was quite tragic situation but we used make fun of it and teased Saiful, “Why don’t you get your father married again? At least we will get treated to a feast of Biriyani and other delicacies.” He would get upset and not speak to us for rest of the day.

After my Senior School Certificate (SSC) exams, I came back to Dhaka to join college. I used to meet all my Jamalpur friends whenever I visited my Uncle’s home. When other students were busy getting special coaching for university admission, I was loafing around knowing well that I won’t be getting admission in the university and even my uncle cannot help this time around. So the call from Saiful was blissful. He said. “Come to Jamalpur immediately, my father is getting married next week. You always wanted to have feast at my father’s wedding, there will be lots there! Incidentally, the girl is no other than our classmate Shiela.”

I was shocked but asked him “Which one, Dancing or Wrestler?”

“Dancing Shiela” replied Saiful.

Must tell you here that there were two Shielas in our class, one had a built like a wrestler hence referred as Wrestler Shiela while the other was a good dancer, hence Dancing Shiela. We used watch her dance in the girl’s common room through the keyhole.

Anyways, next day I left for my Uncle’s home in Jamalpur. On the day of the wedding, dressed up in our finest clothes we accompanied the groom for bride’s home. “You father is so old, his one leg is already in the grave! The bulb may fuse any day.” I told Saiful under my breath.  “The old man is beyond reasoning.” Saiful replied as a matter of fact.

We were soon lost in the midst of all good looking dames who had a chance to flirt with the boys in abandon and I forgot all about Saiful’s father. The food was excellent starting with pulao, bhuna beef, mutton, egg, chicken, sweet curd, sweets and ice cream. Everyone was enjoying except Dancing Shiela who perhaps was thinking that instead of joining university, she is being married off to a old man for money. And the groom happens to be the father of her classmate, what an irony!

In such a situation, nobody cares about what the bride is thinking or what is going through her mind. I too let the thought pass me and helped the bride get into the palanquin and she was brought her husband’s home. There was another reception next day and after spending a week in Jamalpur I came back to Dhaka.

On the fourth day after I came back to Dhaka, Saiful called up. I answered the call with a joke, “Where has your father taken his bride for honeymoon?”

Saiful’s voice was sad as he said, “He is yet to go, but will go 6 feet under the ground.”

“What are you saying?” I cried.

“He passed away an hour ago. The burial will be before sunset, see if you can make it in time.” said Saiful.

I immediately left for Jamalpur.

After the burial, I stayed over at Jamalpur, giving moral support to my dear friend Saiful.

Three days after the death of Saiful’s father, the Panchayat called a meeting at Saiful’s home to discuss and help in property division. One of the leader of the group took aside Saiful and in a conspiratorial voice told, “If you give me acre of land, I will ensure you get the entire property.” Saiful did not made any comment.

The meeting started and the members of the Panchayat started voicing their opinion in contradiction to each other. Then Saiful said, “Please stop everyone and listen to me. The matter is our family concern, if we can resolve it ourselves, do you guys any problem?”

The Panchayat said in unison “No, not at all.”

Then Saiful turned towards her first step mother (his father’s second wife) and said, “I know you don’t like me at all, mother and though you have not given me birth, still I am your son only. Moreover you are getting old so I and my sisters would like to take care of you, please stay with us. What will you do with this material wealth, we are your real wealth, mother.” The impact was immediate as his step mother hugged him and said, “You are right my son, I don’t want any of this wealth.”

I thought Saiful had played a masterstroke by emotionally blackmailing his step mother. He has effectively reduced the number of claimant to just two parties.

Saiful then turned towards Dancing Shiela, his second step mother and said, “Mother, you know me very well, we have studied together. My father’s death has affected you the most; whatever I say or do it will be insufficient. However, the property will be divided into two parts, one will be yours and the other will be ours. But you cannot go back to your parent’s home with all that property because your parents might marry you off again with some other old haggard man for money. So, I would request to you is stay here and continue with your studies and when it is time, we will find the right groom for you.”

Dancing Shiela’s parents had objection but she agreed immediately to Saiful’s proposal. Probably she trusted Saiful more than her own parents who had practically sold her off to the old man.

Today, six years after that eventful day, Saiful called again and said, “Next month, my younger step mother is getting married. Please come and join the festivities.”

Aniket Mathur cursed his adventurous trait for the third time in less than thirty minutes. It all started at the birthday party of his brother-in-law where his niece, a civil service trainee narrated the haunting stories from her many trips across the country, especially in the eastern parts.

Sure enough, Aniket traced his old classmate, Rudra, an IAS officer posted in Bhubneshwar and fixed up this trip. Together, they had planned to spend couple of days at this Govt. Dak Bunglow that also serves as a training centre for the civil servants, reliving their college day’s adventure. Unfortunately, Rudra had to rush back to the city on urgent call promising to be back in the morning. Aniket was all alone in the spacious Govt. Bunglow in the outskirts of Bhubneshwar. There was not a soul around except the care taker who had taken the food order and gone to prepare the same. It is nothing fancy, just simple chicken curry and rice with some salad. Aniket surveyed his surrounding, it was a big room with a double bed in one end of it and a sofa set on the other. Well lit for now but there is a likelihood of load shedding during the night. It was just 7:30 pm but felt like 10pm with absolute darkness all around except the room and the corridor just outside it. The care taker, Raghu had promised to get the dinner in the room by 8:30 pm, so there was about one hour to kill. Aniket had a bottle of his favorite whiskey that he loved to call ‘elixir of life’, he poured himself a large portion and added plain water in the absence of any aerated water (soda). He then started reading ‘1962: The War That Wasn’t’, the book he started reading a week back and soon got engrossed in it.

Raghu the care taker came with the dinner of chicken curry and rice with salad on the side exactly at 8:30 pm, by which time Aniket had his two large pegs of whiskey and was feeling hungry. He finished his dinner in a hurry and as agreed with Raghu, kept the tray outside his room to be picked up by Raghu later at night.

It was too early for Aniket to retire to bed so he went out for post dinner night walk. The bunglow was almost in the middle of an acre plot with most of the area maintained as manicured lawn. On the edges were palm trees, mostly coconut and betel nut. On one corner there were a bunch of banana trees some of which had banana flowers soon to convert into fruit. In the centre of the lawn were flower bed of various kinds but Aniket couldn’t make out what kind in the darkness. Behind the boundary of the bunglow, there was a stretch of greenery that almost resembled a forest and beyond that was the highway that connected Kolkata on one end and Vizag at the other end. As he turned to return, a dilapidated structure on his left came in his view, he could only make out that it was a bunglow too but nothing more. Aniket made a mental note to check it out in the morning.

Aniket changed over to his pyjamas and locked the door and checked the windows. The windows were all secured with wire nets from the outside so that one can keep them open for breeze to sail through. With so much of greenery around, there was no question of any pollution. Aniket switched on the reading lamp on the side table and switched off the main lights and settled down in the bed with his unfinished book. In a way he was happy to be alone, he can finish the book in two days. The only sounds emanated from the lawns are of the cricket and occasionally the croaking of frogs. Aniket was tired and soon dozed off, the book resting on his chest.

It was well past 2 am when Aniket was jolted out of his dreams by the crying of a female that drifted in from the outside. He tried to figure out the source but it stopped suddenly. He thought that it must be from the care taker’s hut and it must be his wife that was crying, probably the guy must have abused her after consuming toddy, the local wine made from a particular palm fruit. Aniket decided to admonish him in the morning and kept the book on the side table and switched off the reading lights to sleep.

Aniket woke up with the first light of the sun peeping through the gap of the curtains of the window. It was 5:30 am by his watch. He got up and brushed his teeth, ready for his morning yoga. Something he has been doing for last ten years. It not only keeps him physically fit but makes the brain sharp too. Exactly at 6 am there was a knock on his door and Raghu came with a tray of tea and biscuits. As he laid down the tray on the table next to the bed, Aniket asked him “What happened last night? Did you beat up your wife? I could hear her crying.” Then without waiting for his answer added, “If it is repeated again tonight, I will call the police.” Raghu was dumbstruck but feebly replied, “But Babuji, I am not married and I stay alone here. You can come and check please.” It was Aniket’s turn to be surprised and shocked, he blurted out “T-Then who was that lady crying last night? I could hear her very clearly.” Raghu shrugged and said, “I don’t know Saheb what you are saying. There is nobody else besides you and me in this place. The gardener will come by 8 am and the cleaning lady by 9AM. That’s the routine for these two people. The city guys send in cook and server when there are meetings of more people otherwise for small gathering, I only do the cooking.”

Aniket dismissed him without further discussion but was in deep thought, was it all his dreams or his mind playing games because he has come for adventure of the paranormal kind. He decided take a walk and put on his sneakers. Walking in the lawns, he soon forgot all about the night for the beauty of the manicured lawn with the variety of flowers was breathtaking. Aniket kept walking and taking pictures with his phone camera. He did realize but he had reached the spot of the plot from where the dilapidated bunglow could be seen clearly. It seemed, no one lived there except a few stray dogs. He tried to figure out if any human could be seen but even after 15 minutes of wait there was no sign of anybody. He decided to go there and check out himself. But before that he needed to take bath as Rudra is expected now anytime.

Aniket was ready and about to call Rudra when he heard the approaching car on the driveway. And soon Rudra appeared on the door. He was dressed in deep blue jeans and white T-shirt and a Nikon camera with long lens hung from his neck. He said, “Hey Ani, are you ready? We can start right now and have breakfast on the way. There’s a nice place serving authentic Utkali cuisine.” Aniket was ready; he picked up his backpack that contained his camera, binocular and a notepad. Then they were on way to Konarak Sun Temple. The plan was to see the Sun Temple in the morning and then proceed to Puri to see Shri Jagannath Temple, have the fabled bhog-prasad and spend the day in the beaches before returning to Bhubneshwar.

The day was well spent, both Rudra & Aniket could capture some breathtaking shots of the Konarak Sun Temple and before that had Luchi-Aloordom and Prawn Cutlets for breakfast at the highway restaurant. Then on way to Puri, they stopped over at Olive Ridley Sea Turtle Reserve taking as many pictures as they possibly could. The darshan at Jagannath temple was satisfying and the bhog-prasad was superb. On way back, they picked up fried fish for the evening snacks to go with their drinks and prawns for the dinner. Aniket was doubtful if Raghu can do justice with such nice big prawns but Rudra said he had it earlier too and Raghu is a brilliant cook. True to his reputation, Raghu had made marvelous prawn curry in mustard sauce that was complemented by the hot basmati rice. The fish fries were as fresh as one can get in the coastal areas which went well with the bottle of Chivas that Rudra had brought with him. After dinner, they went out for stroll in the lawn which was washed with bright moonlight. They were engrossed discussing the day’s events, particularly the exclusive darshan of Jagannath Ji and the awesome sighting of Olive Ridley turtles complete with their nest. They had reached that corner of the lawn from where the ghostly bunglow can be seen. Aniket stopped in his track and whispered to Rudra, “Look Rudra, there’s light coming out from that haunted bunglow.” Rudra did not know anything about the woman’s crying or about the dilapidated bunglow, so he said nonchalantly, “So what, somebody must be staying there.”

“No, nobody is living there. This morning I was here for quite some time, except for a few stray dogs, there were no other living things; I mean I did not see any activity there.” Aniket said excitedly.

“If you are referring to paranormal activity, my dear, let me tell you, the ghosts don’t need any light. They are better off without it.” Rudra guffawed at Aniket.

Aniket then told him about last nights’ crying of a woman and his morning conversation with Raghu. Rudra became serious and then said “We must then investigate in the morning.”

Meanwhile, the light flickered for a while and then everything became dark. No sounds emanated from anywhere barring the chorus of crickets and occasional croaking of frogs.

Aniket and Rudra came back to their room. It was well past midnight and they decided quit for the day. Rudra had an adjacent room and both room had a connecting door internally. Aniket was tired and half a bottle of Chivas soon put him in sound sleep.

Aniket was awakened by the commotion just outside the window next to his bed. He could hear male voices discussing something in hushed up tone, someone was clearly agitated for some reason. Aniket thought of waking up Rudra and take a look outside together. He went to Rudra’s room through the door joining the two rooms. The bedside lamp was on but there was no sign of Rudra, in fact the bed looked like it hasn’t been used at all. Aniket turned to return when his eyes caught something shining in the light of bed lamp under the pillow. He moved the pillow and lo and behold, a pistol just came into his vision. What is Rudra doing with a pistol? Aniket picked up the pistol and went out to check outside.

In the full moon light, he could see Raghu and two more persons covered in shawl discussing animatedly. Near them was another person lying, may be unconscious. Aniket called out, “Raghu, what’s happening?” Raghu and the other guys hadn’t noticed Aniket so they were startled by his voice. One of the guy with a stick in his hand moved menacingly towards Aniket but stopped short of him noticing the pistol in his hand. He spoke to the others in his native tongue and all three scampered away towards the back of the building. Aniket went to check on the figure lying on the ground and was shocked find Rudra lying unconscious. He immediately went inside to get water and sprinkled on Rudra. He opened his eyes and immediately stood up. “Where have they gone?” asked Rudra anxiously. Aniket told him that they ran towards the back of the building. Rudra ran towards the back followed by Aniket but nobody could be seen. Rudra took the pistol from Aniket and went to check the room where Raghu lived. No one was there either; he started searching the room and came out two local pistols or kattas and notebook which had some names with mobile number and some numeric figures against each. Rudra took all of those and said, “Let’s go.”

Rudra called a few number from his mobile once they were back in the room and gave some instructions. Then he got up and started towards the door indicating Aniket to follow him. They got into their Scorpio and Rudra drove it straight to the dilapidated bunglow at the back of the govt. dak bunglow. It was all dark, not a flicker of light from anywhere except a shadowy light from the full moon. The whole image was haunting and Aniket could feel goose bumps all over his body. Rudra switched of the lights of the Scorpio killed the engine which made the surrounding even more eerie. Aniket started to say something but Rudra stopped him as he wind down the vehicle windows. The only sound was that of the chorus of the crickets and occasional croaking of frogs. Once in a while a street dog could be suspicious of something and bark and then some its clan would join in without knowing the cause and create a ruckus in otherwise calm night. In the distance, one could hear the movement of the heavy vehicles on the highway. One such sound of vehicles became increasing clear and it seemed a convoy of vehicles was approaching the very spot where Aniket and Rudra were. Slowly the silhouettes of the vehicles, SUV’s, five of them came into vision as they came closer and closer. When the vehicles were about 200-250 meters from their Scorpio, the first vehicle used dipper and Rudra also responded by using his dipper. Then the vehicles rolled over having killed their engine noise. A posse of uniformed police men and women came out from the five vehicles. Rudra and Aniket also went out to meet them. The Police Inspector from the first vehicle approached Rudra and saluted him. Aniket wondered why a police man was saluting a civilian!

“Have you got the search lights and are your people properly armed?” Rudra asked the Inspector who had introduced himself as Inspector Rajiv Patnaik along with Sub-Inspectors Muhim Raza and Indrani Sen.

“Yes Sir, we have got all the equipments you asked for and all are carrying fire arms” replied Inspector Patnaik.

“Okay, then let’s move in then. I suspect the kingpin is also hiding in there and they may be heavily armed. So we have to go in there with minimum noise and catch them alive because I want to get the entire gang” said Rudra. Then he turned to Aniket and asked him to stay put in the vehicle and come when he calls him. Rudra led the team of police personnel towards the dilapidated bunglow and soon became invisible in the darkness as the moon had also gone behind a patch of dark clouds. Aniket sat in the Scorpio but his eyes were glued towards the building where Rudra had gone.

Rudra placed the men and women strategically at the entrance and at other exits of the building and arranged the search lights to give maximum coverage. At the signal from him Sub-Inspector Muhim Raza switched on the lights and the building became all lighted up. At that very moment, someone from inside fired at the searchlight but the bullet ricocheted from the glass cover. These are new age search lights with bullet proof glass covering. Rudra fired from his pistol at the source of the gun fire and low agonized cry confirmed it had hit the target. Rudra signaled his team to move inside the bunglow and made rapid stride himself. More gun shots followed from inside and the police team retaliated with equal zest. This was no hold bar operation. One of the bullets had grazed past Inspector Patnaiks left shoulder but he was undaunted and reached the hall of the bunglow where the fugitives were hiding. He spoke in a stern voice “Surrender now and save your life. Your outnumbered 10:1 and cannot hide anymore.” His message was greeted by more gun fire and this time the bullet hit him in the chest and he went down. Rudra was just behind him and he had seen the source of the bullet and instantly fired at the head of Raghu. There was no need for more firing; three men came out from behind a closet with their hands up in the air. They were handcuffed and taken away. Rudra checked the nerves of Inspector Patnaik, he was still alive and was immediately rushed to the nearest hospital. The search of the house yielded more fire power and 15 Tribal girls in the age group of 12 to 18 years. They were taken to the local NGO shelter for the time being. The whole Operation Maira was over in 20 minutes.

Next day evening, Aniket and Rudro along with Sravani, Rudro’s wife were seated in the living room of his spacious apartment in Patia, Bhuvaneshwar. Aniket took a sip of Single Malt whiskey and asked, “Rudro, as far as I knew, you had joined Administrative Services, so how come are you involved in crime busting?” Rudro smiled and said, “About 5 years back, fed up with mundane work in administrative services, I decided to leave the services and get into private service just like you. But then I met Sravani and her father who was then a senior rank official in PMO, convinced me of a more adventurous profile in IPS. So, about 4 years back the switch over happened.”

“And you got hitched around the same time too” quipped Aniket. Sravani threw a cushion towards Aniket and all had a hearty laugh. Then on a serious note Aniket asked, “But tell us the whole story from the beginning.”

“If I start from the beginning then it will be too long, so I will briefly tell you how and when it started and the rest as we go along”, replied Rudra.

Rudra narrated:

About 4 years back when I shifted to the Police Services, I had to go through a three months long training schedule. Then finally, when I was ready for posting, I was called to the Home Ministry to meet a gentleman by the name Mr. Gopalkrishna Iyer, a Secretary rank official in the ministry. Later, when I met him, I got to know that he was the head of the famed NIA. He told me that I have a choice of regular posting or I can join the elite team of Special Officers. He told me that I will be an ACP/ ASP ranked officer attached to a police station but my real job would be very different from the regular police work and I shall report directly to him only. My first assignment was tracking down a high profile fugitive with political connections who was hiding in Europe with a fake identity. The person was brought back to the country to face criminal charges and has been sentenced to jail now.

On my way back from Amsterdam, I met a guy named Ashim Das, hailing from Odisha and running an NGO that provided job oriented education to the tribal girls. The state of Odisha has a sizeable tribal population, probably next to Jharkhand. He told me as a matter of fact that they only manage to enlist a small percentage of girls from the tribal areas as most get sucked into the Maoist insurgency or are traded in human trafficking. The situation was really grim. He said that there exists a web of conspirator which unfortunately has the blessings of some unscrupulous politicians that shield them from law. He provided certain names but I could not act on them immediately on my own, I needed proof of their connivance. So, when I met Mr. Iyer for debriefing, I told him about my conversation with Ashim Das. Mr. Iyer heard me patiently and then said that it (Maoists) is indeed a big headache for the govt both central and state. He suggested a transfer to Bhubneshwar to investigate the case and bring the culprits to justice.

Here, for ease of work, I am reporting the CM directly and have access to all departments and their heads are told to cooperate with me for their own good. I had found out the kingpins of this human trafficking web but needed to catch them in the act as our laws have too many loopholes through which these guys can escape. As we speak, two politicians and three senior govt. officials along with the members of the gang have been arrested under non-bailable offence. Once we zeroed on these individuals in high places, we not only tracked their physical movement but their telephonic conversations as well.

About a fortnight back I had the intelligence report that a ‘consignment’ of humans was supposed to be handed over to the representative of Maoists. And as luck would have it, you, Aniket, wanted to come here to experience haunted bunglow and I agreed as it would coincide with the Operation Maira. I did not join you on the first day as I wanted to tie up some loose ends.

When you narrated the events that your niece had experienced, I checked on the bunglow and realized it was being used by these guys for transit-cum-handover joint. To be honest, I had not suspected Raghu to be part of the gang. When you confronted him with allegation of beating his wife, he got alarmed and called up one of the suspected govt. official for help. This in a way helped us in nabbing that person for conspiracy and under interrogation he sang like a canary and came out with names and modus operandi of the group.

Last night after you had gone to bed, I moved out and went call Raghu but he was not in his room and as I was coming back to my room to call Inspector Patnaik I met Raghu near our room. When I asked him what he was doing there at that hour, someone hit me hard on my head and lost consciousness. Rest of the story you know. This evening I checked on the health of Inspector Patnaik, he is critical but out of danger. It is sad that Raghu had to die because he was really a very good cook.

“Why call it Operation Maira?” asked Sravani.

“Oh, that’s the name of a very bright student of Ashim Das ran NGO school. She was abducted by the Maoists and raped repeatedly before killing her. It was to honor her.” Rudra said solemnly.

“So, what’s next?” Aniket and Sravani asked in chorus.

“Let’s see where we go next and what story awaits us”, Rudra said with a wink in his eyes.

Dr. Saxena came back to his chamber after checking on the patient, 65 years old Gurpreet Singh who has been on life support ventilator for last seven days on bed no. 421 on the fourth floor of Super Specialty Nursing Home. Every effort is being made to keep him alive and Dr. Saxena felt hopeful…

As he entered his spacious spanking clean room, a lady got up and said, “Sat Sri Akal, Doctor Sahab.” Dr. Saxena was little irritated seeing a woman sitting in his chamber. He made a mental note to admonish Inderjeet, his front office Executive. Keeping a stoic face he returned the greetings and said, “I can’t recall having met you. What can I do for you?”

The lady said, “My name is my name is Inderpreet Kaur. My husband Gurpreet Singh is on ventilator for last one week. I want know about his health condition.” As it is Dr. Saxena was upset now he simply burst out on the lady, “Why are you here? We have a defined time slot for meeting the patient. You should come at that time and check with on-duty doctor. This is my OPD time and there is long queue outside. Please go now.”

“I am sorry, Doctor but I do not have time to come back again. So, can you please tell me his state of health?” Inderpreet Kaur said in a low tone to calm down the otherwise charged atmosphere.

Dr. Saxena decided to cut short the conversation and said in an even tone, “Frankly, I do not see much hope of his survival. His brain is partially dead but we are doing our best to revive him.”

“But how long?” asked Inderpreet.

“That is difficult to say, we are hopeful as long as he is breathing.” Said Dr. Saxena nonchalantly.

“But is he still breathing?” asked Inderpreet in a strange voice looking straight at Dr. Saxena.

Dr. Saxena was not expecting such a query and the initial irritation came back in his voice when he said, “What do you mean?” Inderpreet without flicking her eyelid and looking straight at Dr. Saxena said in husky voice, “Please let him go. He has been dead for last five days. Please free him up from all those wire tangles.”

Dr. Saxena was now visibly upset and roared, “If you know so much about treatments, why did you bring him here, should have treated him at home only.”

“I would have done that only, if I could. Now, please tell me how I can take him back.” Inderpreet said in an even tone.

Dr. Saxena was very angry now at this kind of impudence of the woman. He almost shouted at her, “Please sign the No Obligation Bond and pay up Rs.12 Lacs, the hospital expenses as of today and then only you can take him back.”

A faint smile appeared on Inderpreet’s face when she said, “My husband died two days after being admitted here and you have put him on ventilator since then to fleece money from us. The legitimate amount for those two days is Rs.1.25 Lacs which I am paying you now.”

Dr. Saxena was extremely agitated now; he shouted again, “Look, I have never seen you earlier. His son came to admit him here. What is proof that you are his wife as you are claiming? I do not want to continue this conversation with you anymore. Please go from here at this very moment. Otherwise…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, his phone was ringing. He picked up the phone, “Hello, Dr. Saxena speaking.”

“Good Morning, I am Sandeep Singh speaking. My father Gurpreet Singh is admitted in your nursing home. Bed no. 421.”

“Thank God, you called Mr. Sandeep. Your mother is creating ruckus here. How can we treat your father if your mother continues to interfere in our affairs? She is behaving as if she knows more than the doctors! I am telling you now, if she doesn’t go from here peacefully, I will have to call in the security.”

“What are you saying Doctor? My mother passed away five years ago.” Sandeep said on the other side of the phone. “What do you mean? She is still sitting in front of me” retorted Dr. Saxena. “Don’t listen to her, she must be a fraud. I am coming just now” pleaded Sandeep from the other side.

With smirk on his face, Dr. Saxena addressed Inderpreet, “You wait here now, your son is coming. We shall decide the course of action on his arrival.”

“I will go away before my son comes. My husband is waiting outside. Although you have kept his body on the ventilator, he has been with me for last five days. You want to meet him? See, he is right there.” said Inderpreet in a plain voice.

Dr. Saxena turned towards the examination cot in the room. Gurpreet Singh was sitting on it and smiling to him. Dr. Saxena couldn’t believe how the dead body that he had seen some time back on the ventilator in bed number 421, has come down to his chamber on the ground floor of the nursing home.  He started sweating and blurted out “What is this? Are you playing games with me?”

This time Gurpreet answered, “What did you gain by cheating my son? He is a simple guy working like a donkey to meet the needs of his family. You have practically made him bankrupt. Are you a doctor or dacoit?”

“Don’t you worry, doctor. We will pay you the amount that you actually deserve. In this cash crunch time, we do not have the cash but here these gold bangles will surely fetch you more than Rs.1.25 Lacs.” Saying so, Inderpreet moved towards Dr. Saxena.

Dr. Saxena moved away from her but there was no place to hide. He shouted, “No, no, I don’t want your bangles or money. Please go away.” Inderpreet along with Gurpreet closed moved closer to Dr. Saxena and said in unison, “Why doctor? You don’t want to make more money? Please take these bangles.” Dr. Saxena shouted, “No oooo….” He went complete blank.

After a while Dr. Saxena realised there were other people too in the room. People who were his patient whose dead bodies have been on the ventilator unnecessarily while he continued prescribe expensive medicines to fleece the families. All of them were asking “Why Doctor?” Dr. Saxena tried to speak but couldn’t as he suffered a massive heart attack.

Dr. Gupta checked the pulse of Dr. Saxena and realised he was dead. Straightening up he thought, well it’s a right time make some money for myself. He instructed the nurse, “Put him on the ventilator and inform his family. The patient is critical.”

Once Dr. Saxena’s dead body was put on the ventilator and the family advised to make the hefty deposit towards the treatment, Dr. Gupta returned to his chamber.

Dr. Saxena was waiting for him there and asked, “Why Doctor Gupta?” Everybody outside the chamber heard the sharp shrill of Dr.Gupta and loud thumping sound of his body falling on the floor.

On the invitation of my friend Indro, I made the journey from Delhi to Gangtok on a November morning. Indro said he will reach from Ranchi to Siliguri and from there we will travel together. I took the morning flight to Bagdogra and reached Siliguri around 11:30 am. But there was no sign of Indro at the appointed place instead there was a WhatsApp message from him that his flight was cancelled and he will reach directly to Gangtok the following day, advising me to proceed to Gangtok.

I had no option but follow his advice, went to the taxi stand and got into a shared taxi with three other strangers. The journey from Siliguri to Gangtok is picturesque along the river but roads can be treacherous at some points. Anyway, we reached Gangtok around 4:30 in the evening and I started hunting for a hotel for the night. This turned out to be a nightmare, because there was no room available in any of the hotels that Indro had suggested I should check. The enthusiasm with which I had started hunting for hotels was now ebbing as was the sun in the distance. In hilly areas, once the Sun sets, it becomes really dark and the surroundings become deserted within a short time.

It has been almost an hour of my futile hotel search and I was feeling tired and anxious with thought of spending the wintery night on the road in a hill station. Just then I felt someone was tugging my jacket. I thought of pick-pocket and turned to hit the person but controlled myself. A dwarfish guy with a half smile on his asking “Are you looking for a hotel, Babu?” Though his appearance was not so welcoming but at that moment he was godsend. I nodded yes and he immediately picked up my rucksack and started walking, I followed him in earnest. After a few minutes of walking through winding streets and lanes that elevated us at least 100-150 feet from the street below, we stopped in front of not so attractive house with signboard that announced Paradise Hotel.  A guy seemingly with unstable mental health was sitting by the gate and having some deep animated conversation with no one in particular. We went inside.

The receptionist cum manager of the hotel recognised my guide and said, “Boltu, how are you? Not seen you for a long time. ” Boltu now smiled openly and said “I had gone to the village for my daughter’s engagement; the marriage has been fixed for April.” Then indicating me said “Harenbabu, this gentleman needs a room, so I got him here to your hotel.” The manager, Harenbabu hesitantly said, “But today, I do not have any room vacant.” I was really at the end of my tether after climbing up here with darkness engulfing the valley rapidly. I requested Harenbabu, “Please let me spend the night on this couch at your reception.” Before Harenbabu could respond, another figure from the side of the reception counter appeared and addressed Harenbabu, “Sahib, why don’t you allot him Room # 401?” Harenbabu was taken aback and admonished him resoundingly, “You shut up and don’t you know that room is not any use anymore?” Then turning to me said, “Sorry Sir, but we do not letting out that room since last year.” I said, “But why?” Harenbabu said, “Sir last year around this time, one English gentleman committed suicide in that room. And later some guests did complain of unusual happenings in that room at night. So we decided to keep it locked and let out to anyone.” Harenbabu’s honesty was applaudable but I needed a room to stay in warmth, so I said, “Listen, I do not believe in ghosts and spirits, let me have the room for tonight at least.” Reluctantly, Harenbabu took out the key of room # 401 and handed over to Boltu who picked up bag once again and climbed up the stairs followed by me and Harenbabu.

The room was decent and above all very clean despite not being used. I was relieved and tipped Boltu for his efforts and I am sure he will get his brokerage for Harenbabu also. I decided to take a walk of the Mall Road 150 feet below my hotel and try out the Momos from Rocky’s as suggested by Indro.

Momos were truly delicious; I tried the chicken, pork and mutton of which the pork ones were the best. Then I roamed around the mall and realised the night settles down much earlier in the hills than in the plains. I checked my watch, it was only 8 pm but it seemed well past 10 pm as by some magic the crowd in the mall were thinning out. I decided to go back to the hotel as weather also became chilly. There was no one at the reception, Harenbabu must have gone home or does he stay in the hotel itself? I did not know, the keys were with me only, so I went straight to my room. Even though, I had shown tons of courage earlier while accepting to stay in this room, now my enthusiasm was not so high realising that this was the only room in this floor. There are two terraces on either side of the room for clear view of the horizon but who would want to go on the terrace at such a chilly night. Also at the back of mind was the fact that someone had committed suicide in that very room and that made the surrounding a bit eerie. I took out my half read book hoping that reading it will make me fall sleep early. After some time I realised that I have almost finished the book but no sign of sleep in my eyes, may be when you are too tired, it takes time to sleep, I thought. Around this time I felt something unusual, it seemed there is someone else in the room besides me. The air in the room seemed to stand still! I got up with a start and switched on the main light in the room. There’s nobody in the room, I assured myself that it was all my fertile brain that was imagining things because of what I had heard about this room. I decided to have a sleeping pill to have a sound sleep. Thereafter, I switched off the lights in the room letting the bathroom lights on and the door slightly open so that the room does not get totally dark. I pulled up the blanket right over my head and slept.

I do not know what time it was but I was awakened by severe shaking of my body, it seemed someone was trying to wake me up and pushing me out of the bed. I could make out the main lamp in the room hanging from the roof is swaying like a pendulum but all the windows and doors are shut close, where is the air coming from? I started sweating in some unknown fear, I looked for the glass of water at the bedside table and it seemed someone has lifted it up in a shaky hand and water in it splitting on the floor below. It seemed there was some super unknown power that was roaming inside the room shaking up everything that came in its way. The power was angry that I have occupied the room that solely belongs to him. I clanged on to the bed fearing that if I get up the unknown evil power will throw me out of the room to the valley down below.  I mustered up courage and shouted, “Who are you?” The reply was a spine chilling laughter that reverberated across the valley. It unnatural, uncanny laughter that was unending, I lost consciousness.

When I came to my senses, it was bright morning with Sun shining in all its glory and brightness. However, the room was in complete disarray, it seemed there have been storm inside the room. The glass broken into pieces, the table on which it was places is upside down, the bed itself has moved to the middle of the room by some unknown force. I decided, enough of my courage and bravery for one night, I will vacate the room that very moment. In any case, Indro should be reaching by evening and he has contacts in some better hotels and it is better to spend the night in some monastery than this haunted room!

I packed my rucksack and went down to vacate the room. Harenbabu was at the reception; he smiled at me and said, “You do have a sound sleep, Sir! The whole Gangtok was woken up last night and you slept through the night without waking up even once!” I was taken aback and hesitantly asked, “Why? What happened last night?” “What? You didn’t realise there was massive earthquake that shook up the entire city of Gangtok. Not once but thrice and the last one was the severest. It was 6.4 on Richter scale!!”

Undeterred, I said with conviction, “I know but decided to stay put in the room only. But tell me who was laughing so loudly?” Harenbabu guffawed “Oh that was Nitai, the mad man you must have seen at the hotel gate who was finding it funny that people were running helter-skelter and laughing his heart out!”

I simply handed over the key to Harenbabu saying, “Can you just get my room cleaned up while I go and take a round of the surroundings? And yes I expecting my friend to join me in the evening so from tonight it will be double occupancy.”

Harenbabu said, “No worries, another room with clear view of Kanchenjunga is getting vacated today, I will shift you and your friend in that room. You come back soon then we will have breakfast together.”

Sukhomoy Samaddar is the English teacher in the local Bengali Senior Secondary school.  He is that character which does not evoke any curiosity; he can be in a party physically without getting noticed by the host. In short, to most people, he simply does not exist. He, however, is an excellent English teacher to those students that are eager to learn. The backbenchers neither cared about him nor did he ever try to discipline them. He is the quintessential non confronting Bengali Babu. So it was quite contrary to his character that he went to see the latest Hollywood movie that evening. He had asked a few acquaintances about the story but all of them had advised him to go and see the film himself. Now that he has seen it, he is repenting it badly. Sukhomoy can’t even sleep at night.

Sukhomoy Samaddar is a confirmed bachelor. It is not that he did not try but somehow none of the women he met wanted to become Mrs. Samaddar. So after a while, he stopped trying. He lives alone in a two bedroom house with sufficiently large garden with coconut, mango and jackfruit trees besides a rose patch that his parents had left behind for him. A housekeeping lady by the name of Sandhya, comes in the morning to clean and cook for him.

Sukhomoy Samaddar had a very bad sleep the evening he went to see the movie. The story of the movie has been playing on his mind ever since he came out the theatre, particularly the two ferocious dogs or rather the spirit of the dogs. How they avenged the murder of their master by crooked nephew is the gist of the movie.  The barking of the dogs is constantly ringing in his ears. He had kept all the doors and windows closed but somehow he had a feeling that some dogs are barking just outside his bedroom door. Sukhomoy’s fear of dogs is from the childhood when the local street dog Bholu in his playful gesture had jumped on him and he had a near heart attack. Bholu is long gone and now there is pack of 4 dogs that have terrorised him to no end. Sukhomoy at all times carries his umbrella which not only comes handy in rains and scorching sun but as a deterrent to these dogs as well.

In the morning, well after the sun shone bright, Sukhomoy, mustered enough courage to come out on his porch and checked the garden but there was no sign of any dogs anywhere. Sukhomoy sighed relief and went on to make tea for himself. As he took a sip from his cup sitting on his easy-chair in the porch, he could again hear the barking of the dog. This time very loud and clear and from somewhere close-by. Sukhomoy froze in his chair, he barking sound was coming from the garden where the coconut trees are lined. He tried to look for the dog but couldn’t make out. He got up and went inside closing the doors and windows. He decided to take the day off from school and called from his landline. He said about not feeling too well and the Principal was very concerned and advised him to take rest for as many days that he wanted. Sukhomoy has never taken any holidays in the last 20 years of his teaching job.

Sukhomoy was startled when the calling bell rang; cautiously he went to open the door. Sandhya, his housekeeper cum cook was at the door. He ushered her in and immediately closed the door. Sandhya felt a bit odd but did not say anything. She went about her job of cleaning. She was opening the windows when very uncharacteristically Sukhomoy shouted at her, “Don’t open the windows.” Sandhya was taken aback and looked at him askance. But Sukhomoy did not elaborate. Sandhya decided that the man is getting old and without a wife around is getting senile. She kept a watchful eye on him for any tell tale eccentricities.  Sukhomoy sat on the living room couch trying to concentrate on the book he has been reading. When Sandhya finished her work and asked him if anything else was required, he said no and locked the door after her departure.

Sukhomoy got engrossed in the book and lost all sense of time. The call bell rang again and so did the barking of dogs. Sukhomoy was sure that the spirits the dogs from the movie have come to take revenge from him but he couldn’t be sure as to what wrong he has done. Sukhomoy started to perspire and could feel a stinging pain in his chest. He thought he was going to die, his mouth was dry and could not even shout for help. But who will come to help him from the spirits of the dogs, he thought. He tried hard to remember if he has ever hurt any dogs in his life but other than shooing them out with his umbrella he has never even thrown a stone at any of the street dogs. Sukhomoy didn’t know what to do; he kept sitting on the couch sweating profusely.

 The bell rang again and this time accompanied by a voice “Sir, are you home? I am Keshto.” Hearing the voice, Sukhomoy felt a bit assured and got up to open the door. Keshto is local jack-of-all-trade and comes to Sukhomoy regularly for odd jobs like getting the tender coconuts or the ripe mangoes from the tree. Keshto gave him a big teethe smile with his paan stained teeth and said “Sir, did you see my mobile phone? I had come yesterday to take down the tender coconuts; maybe I have left it here by mistake.” Sukhomoy felt irritated and said, “I don’t know, you check it yourself.” Just then the barking of the dogs started again and it came from the garden. Keshto was all smiles as he said, “Sir the phone is here only” and rushed to the garden. Keshto climbed up one of the coconut trees like a monkey and came down quickly holding his mobile phone. He came to Sukhomoy and said “Now I remember, yesterday when I was plucking the tender coconuts, I had received a call and kept the phone on the tree top. Then I forgot to take it with me while climbing down.” “But how did you know the phone is on the tree over there?” asked Sukhomoy, a little perplexed. Keshto again gave a teethe smile and said, “He he Sir, the caller tune gave me the location.” Before he could elaborate further, his mobile ranged and the dogs started barking right in front of Sukhomoy. Keshto answered his call and thereafter said, “Sir this barking sound is the new caller tune in the market. This is from the soundtrack of the latest English movie. My son downloaded it yesterday only and made it my caller tune.”

Sukhomoy was speechless for a moment; he couldn’t believe that the caller tune of phone had almost given him the heart attack!!!

Then he remembered, Keshto had asked for 500 rupees yesterday and he had asked him to come this day. He took out a 500 rupees currency and gave it Keshto. “Why did you install such an odd caller tune? Nobody keeps barking sound as caller tune, just change this immediately.” Keshto agreed to change it once he gets home as his son only knows how to do.

Sukhomoy sat down on the couch and felt hungry; he had forgotten to eat his lunch.

Circa 1991, much against my wishes, I was asked to handle the sales management functions in addition to the marketing function for which I was hired in the first place and a job I knew well. My geographic area of operation was north to east i.e. Punjab, Haryana, UP, Bihar, Bengal, Orissa and Assam. The product we were marketing was a bunch of ready-to-eat snacks. I had just got married but have been touring the country side for almost 20 days a month. I was sick and tired of this job and had a talk with my boss about it. He advised me to have patience for couple of months and he will do something about it, typical management style and he was the master.

The month was September when I embarked on 3 weeks tour of the eastern territories beginning with Bihar (undivided) to be followed by West Bengal and Assam. Luckily, the product being very urban, the travelling was restricted to class-I cities/ towns. I started off from Patna to Muzaffarpur to Ranchi to Jamshedpur in the first week. The dealers or wholesalers appointed by my predecessor was ill-equipped to handle food products and were never given any guidance in that area. As a result, there were huge damages and claims that needed settling. By the time I finished the first leg of the tour in Jamshedpur, I was exhausted and badly wanted to get away but the distributer there, Ashish Agarwal, a young guy just out of college insisted that I have dinner with him and catch the 10:45 pm train to Kolkata. Ashish over the last two days had become a good friend, primarily because of his amiable nature and enthusiasm to make the products a success in his territory, so I couldn’t refuse and ended up at his (family) bunglow in Kadma area. The Agarwal household was joint-family; as such it was full house with all his uncles, aunts and cousins living under one roof. The food was vegetarian but delicious and I over ate. After dinner pleasantries done, I was ready to leave for the station and Ashish volunteered to drop me at the station. We left in his Ambassador car not knowing what fate has in store for us. A short distance from his house near the water tank, the ambassador suddenly started spluttering and finally stopped. My first thought was fuel has run out but the fuel gauge showed half-tank is still available. Ashish tried his best to bring the car engine to life but it simply refused to start. I was panicking now as Tatanagar Railway Station was still quite a distance and alternative transport was not in sight. After a frantic search we finally traced an auto rickshaw with the driver soundly sleeping in the back seat. With much cajoling he agreed to drop me at the station. I bade farewell to Ashish and got into the auto rickshaw. The vehicle had clearly seen better days and now was on its last leg. Even with full throttle, it refused to move beyond 10 km speed. It finally entered the station premises at 10:43 and trudged along to the main entry gate.

I left the bewildered auto rickshaw driver with balance change of the Rs.100/- note and ran towards the platform. But I was late by the whisker as I helplessly saw the tail end of the train from Jamshedpur vanish towards Howrah……

I was at my wits end in that completely unknown place. There was not a single soul on the platform except a few sleeping figures in the distance. I walked towards the Station Master’s cabin to check the next available train. The station master was Bong and was sympathetic to my woes but was helpless. The next train was at 4:45 am and he endorsed my existing ticket for that train. He also directed me to the First Class waiting room.

The FC Waiting Room contrary to my expectation was very clean and empty. There was not a soul in that large room. I found a nice comfy single sofa and put my luggage – a suitcase and a leather office bag on the side table, bought a bottle of water from the vendor on the platform who was about shut shop for the day. I made myself comfortable in that sofa and took out the book – Dogs of War by Frederick Forsyth which I had bought from the New Delhi Railway Station. I always buy a book whenever I make a journey on train or plane, it is a habit. Most of the time, the book is finished by the time I return.

After a while, the Station Master came and introduced himself as Mr. Abani Sarkar, originally from Burdwan but posted here for last 2 years. He said he has fallen in love with place and might settle down in Jamshedpur only. He also said in case I need anything like tea or coffee, just hop in to his office any time during the night. I thanked him and requested him if he can wake me up just in case I am not already up by 4 am. He said, “Sure, I will come and wake you up and get you some tea as well to refresh you.”

Once Mr. Sarkar departed, I concentrated on the book and soon was engrossed in it in so much that did not realise than another gentleman had come inside the waiting room and sitting a away from me. The man seemed to be from the armed forces with a very thick moustache and wearing a blue tweed blazer over a grey trouser and a striped tie. The tweed blazer was a bit awkward as it was not that cold in September to wear a woollen jacket. May be the person is old enough to feel the night chill… in the insufficient light of the room, it was difficult to figure out the age.

I smiled at him and said, “Hello, you too missed the train?” He smiled back and said, “Yes, I missed it too.” Thereafter, there was an awkward silence, as I wanted to continue with my reading and it seemed rude to just going back to my book. I was in a dilemma but the gentleman only broke the silence, “You want to read your book, you may please carry on or on the other hand I can tell you a real story. By the way I am Colonel (Retd) Rudrapratap Roy.” I introduced myself and said, “Yes, a real war story would be great. Before that let me get us some coffee.” I got up to go out in search of coffee but Col Roy stopped me and took out a flask and two stainless steel glasses. He gave a hearty laugh and said, “I always carry my coffee with me, just in case…” He poured the two glasses and handed me one of them and came over to where I was sitting making himself comfortable in the other single sofa. Now that he was closer, I could make out that he is in late 50’s or early 60’s but still very fit and strong.

We both finished our coffee and he began his narrative thus….

The year was 1986 and I was posted at IMA, Dehradoon as an instructor. As part of the training, we did regular excursions to the lower Himalayas around Yamunotri and Gangotri. In one such excursion to the Gangotri region, I was leading a fresh batch of 20 cadets who had aspiration to reach great heights physically and intellectually. The young guns were physically very fit and were trekking to the higher altitudes with ease. Our trek was progressing smoothly and we had hoped to reach our summit spot at Gangotri by 1700 hours.

At around 1300 hours we stopped at clearing to have our frugal lunch and to re-energise ourselves. Thereafter, we continued our trek to the Gangotri.

Gangotri, the origin of the River Ganges and seat of the goddess Ganga, is one of the four sites in the Chota Char Dham pilgrimage circuit. The original Gangotri Temple was built by the Gurkha general Amar Singh Thapa. The river is called Bhagirathi at the source and acquires the name Ganga (the Ganges) from Devprayag onward where it meets the Alaknanda. The origin of the holy river is at Gaumukh, set in the Gangotri Glacier, and is a 19 km trek from Gangotri.

Places to visit near the Gangotri Temple

• Bhagirath Shila is believed to be the holy rock where King Bhagirath prayed to Lord Shiva.
• Pandava Gufa, located 1.5 km from Gangotri, is the place where the Pandavas are believed to have meditated and rested en route Kailash. Pilgrims will have to trek up to the Pandava Gufa.

In the pilgrimage journey of Chota Char Dham, Gangotri is often visited after Yamunotri (located on the western region of Garhwal Hills). Pilgrims generally make Uttarkashi as their base camp. The time taken from Uttarkashi to Gangotri temple is about 4 hours by road.

We were about an hour away from our destination, when things started to go wrong. First, one the cadet Tarkesh Kumar, tripped and sprained his ankle badly then all of a sudden, the weather took an ugly turn with black clouds engulfing the entire horizon. I wanted to speed up and reach the summit urgently but couldn’t with a limping cadet in tow. Soon enough, it started to rain and with each move forward, the intensity increased. There were no places to stop and shade ourselves from the incessant rain. There was lightening happening, practically every second and one could hear terrifying sound of cloud bursts. All of a sudden, I could hear another sound fast approaching towards us – the sound of water gushing at great speed. I shouted to the cadets to get hold of whatever they can find nearby as the flood waters minutes away from blowing us away. I was little late in my instructions as the flash flood in the hills are much ferocious compared to the plains and it swept us in a matter of seconds. I had no doubt that very soon I will be meeting my makers and as a soldier, the only thought on my mind was, “This was not the way to go. I would have liked a bullet in my heart or stepping on a landmine.” I desperately tried to catch any moorings but there were none in the path as the water at over 100 Km surface speed swept me away and few of my cadets, soon after I blacked out.

I woke up with a shake and found one scantily clothed Sadhu was shaking me to see if I am alive. I sat up with a startle and felt my throat was completely parched, I couldn’t even speak. The Sadhu held up his Kamandul (a kind of jug) and gestured me to drink from it. Hesitantly, I took a swig from it, the water was very cold but it somehow brought warmth in the body. The Sadhu spoke first and said that it is going to get dark very soon and if I am feeling good, we should hurry and trek down to the nearby temple to spend the night. I agreed and we started to move towards the temple. The temple door was closed but he pushed it open and we went inside, leaving my shoes outside. There was an idol of indeterminate deity which gave out a mystic feeling in the dim light of the earthen lamps and made the atmosphere very eerie with more shadows than lights.

The Sadhu momentarily moved away from my sight only to appear again with some fruits and offered them to me. The smell of the fresh fruits made me hungry and without much thought I devoured them in no time. The Sadhu had been looking at me intently with his deep gaze as I was eating but all the time there was a smile on his lips. He asked me where I am from and I narrated the incidences since that morning. As I was telling him, I instinctly reached into my pocket for the cigarettes but realised they are gone, probably in the flood water somewhere, I looked at wristwatch but it was gone too. No cigarette to warm you up and no way to know the time. I asked the Sadhu how long he has been living there. With a smile, he said “I don’t live here, I come and go”. “You mean you have other places to stay”, I asked hoping he will elaborate his statement. He thought for a moment and then asked me, “Do you believe in God?” My first reaction was to say NO but not to offend my saviour and host of the night I said “I really don’t know but yes I definitely do not believe that God lives inside a temple. The temples are places to exploit the people with fear or greed.” He was nodding his head in affirmation and clapped in joy, hearing me. He said, “I keep telling people the same but still they throng to the temples looking for God. You are different and I knew it when I saw you the first time.”

The Sadhu continued, “The God created different species and plants for a purpose, Humans were created as a superior species to take care of all the others but it seems there have been some manufacturing defect in them!!” He chuckled like a child. Then on a more serious note, said “The very idea of a religion is not of the God, it is the creation of humans for their own selfish agenda. God wanted the humans to take care of the nature in all its form and not destroy it. Initially, the people would worship the nature because they had realised that it is the Nature that helps them in their survival. But slowly over period of time, they, the humans became greedy, greedy of power, greedy of materialistic life, greedy of becoming overlord of their surroundings. And that brought the miseries. One set of humans started exploiting the others and situation came to such an extent that the exploited revolted and refused to accept the God they have been forced to follow till then. They felt their existing God doesn’t care about them. They looked for solace in another God and started following it, worshipping it and then fighting fellow humans in the name of their God. It became fashionable to project – My God is Better than Your God. Alas, they forgot that the God is One only.”

He stopped for a while to compose his thoughts, and then said, “You know, the people who throng to the temples do not go there because they love their God but they have an inherent fear of God in their heart perpetuated by years of exploitation by the priests. I feel ashamed of them.”

The oil lamps started flickering giving the signal that the oil it is in the verge of finishing and the lights may go off any moment. The Sadhu got up and to the other side of the deity and brought to blankets and offered them to me saying, “The lights will go off very soon, why don’t you make yourself comfortable and try to sleep. We will talk again, perhaps in the morning.” I was definitely feeling sleepy, so I took the blanket to make myself cosy and then I slept.

I woke up by sound clanking of chains and rustles of feet outside the temple. I got up and looked for the Sadhu but couldn’t find him anywhere in the still dark temple. Then with a bang the temple door opened and flash of bright sun light filtered through the open door. A posse of people in the attire of the temple priests came in and looked at me in total surprise. They seemed stupefied and speechless looking at me. I was still adjusting my eyes in the sudden bright sun light by guarding the eyes with my hand when one of the priest, presumably the head of the group, asked me, “Who are you and how did you get inside the temple?” I told him about yesterday’s flash flood in the upper regions and how as a castaway I was rescued by a Sadhu and brought to this temple. I also told him that I couldn’t find the Sadhu when I woke up this morning and that he must have left very early in the morning. There was a clear commotion amongst the congregated people and everyone was talking animatedly at once. The head priest raised his hand to silence them and said something that made my head spin violently.

“I do not know how you entered the temple. There are neither any akhara nor any hermitage anywhere in the nearby. The flash flood you are talking about happened six months ago, the same day that this temple closed for the winters. We unlocked the doors just now after six months and if you, as you are saying, had come on that day, then you have been sleeping inside for six months!” The head priest then held my hands and touched his forehead to them in a gesture of naman or obedience and said, “You perhaps, is unaware but you have been rescued by the God himself and brought here. It was his blessings that you are alive without food or water for this long.”

I had a lot of explaining to do to my commanding officer at the IMA when I finally reached there. But that is not part of the story, the Colonel said with a mysterious smile on his lips. He asked me, “So, young man what you have to say?” I said nothing but just gave him a salute.

Well, the story should have ended here but it didn’t….

I was awakened by the Station Master Mr. Abani Sarkar. He said, “Get up Mr. Bhattacharjee, the train is about to come, it has left the last station.” I got up and checked my watch, it said 4:25 am. I looked around for Col (Retd.) Rudrapratap Roy but he was nowhere to be seen. I asked Mr. Sarkar, “Where is Col Rudrapratap?” Mr. Sarkar looked at me with bewilderment and said, “There is nobody else here, Sir. You are the only passenger that utilised this First Class Waiting Room last night. I even got you a cup of coffee when you were reading your book. Thereafter checked on you on my usual beat and found you soundly sleeping, so I did not bother you.” I protested, “But there was this gentleman who introduced himself as Colonel Rudrapratap Roy. He even offered me coffee and narrated a very nice story or rather life experience too.” I remembered he was smoking a cigar and looked for the ashes on the floor. And it was there, clear tales tell sign of the existence of Col (Retd.) Rudrapratap Roy. I showed the ashes to Mr. Sarkar but he was adamant that there was nobody in the room except me. In a last ditch effort, I checked the attached bathroom but there was nobody there either. I packed-up my bag and followed Mr. Sarkar to the platform and looked around in the hope of finding the Colonel but he was nowhere to be seen.

Till date I have found no plausible answer to this escapade of mine. I refuse to believe that my mind played games with me that night because I had no external inputs like a book or incidence to trigger such narrative. Rest I leave it you to decide.

The flight from Miami reached Frankfurt early in the morning around 6 am. Shakya had ample time in hand but practically nothing to do but wait for his Delhi bound flight in the afternoon.  The terminal 1 concourse where the Lufthansa flight landed will be the same from where it will take off for Delhi. Therefore, Shakya was confined to that small area of Frankfurt airport not able to explore the other part of the airport without a transit visa.  After taking two rounds and checking all the shops, Shakya settled himself at the American Express premium lounge. He took his bath and freshened up before settling down to have breakfast of three-egg omelette with assorted cold cuts and salads. Shakya always enjoys his breakfast more than any other meal, may be because it’s the first meal of the day. In any case, he hardly gets time for lunch in his busy schedule as an Investment Banker based in Fort Lauderdale and his dinner consists of soup and bread on most days. He had married Jennifer while doing his masters at Berkeley University but the marriage lasted less than a year. After that he has decided to never get into that path and is extremely proud and happy of his freedom. He does have many girl friends, mostly happily married, so as not to get emotionally attached to Shakya.

After finishing his breakfast at leisurely pace, Shakya found a nice cosy corner and settled down in the comfortable single sofa. He picked up “Scion of Ikshvaku” by Amish, from his cabin bag, a book he has just started reading and which is basically Ramayana retold in a new light. He still believes in reading books printed on paper, no Kindle for him. Soon, he got completely engrossed in the book and lost touch with his surroundings.

“Hi, isn’t that you Shakya?” a female voice startled him. He looked at the woman who had spoken those words. She looked like a typical Bong lady, wearing western clothes and clearly uncomfortable in them. It took some time, may be a few seconds but Shakya recognised the woman, after all, one doesn’t forget his first love! Her name is Shoma and she used to be Mukherjee when Shakya had met her at their ancestral home in Burdwan. Memories came flooding as Shakya remembered his first encounter with Shoma and thereafter…

Except for his parents, all his uncles had settled down in Burdwan, a laid back town in West Bengal after the partition in 1947. The Bunglow with ample garden was a joint effort of all the brothers but Shakya’s father had decided to settle down in Delhi. The top floor of the house belonged to Shakya’s father and by default to him. His parents have been to the house only on the occasion of weddings in the family and that too for a very short duration. His mother was asthmatic and the humid weather of Bengal did not suit her at all. Shakya, being the only child, longed to meet up with his cousins as often as possible and made it a point to visit his uncles and cousins once a year at least.

It was afternoon and he was alone in his top floor room. All his cousins were either gone to college or were at work. Shakya was engrossed in the detective novel by Sharadindu Bandhopadhyay titled Byomkesh Omnibus. His concentration was broken by a shrill female voice that asking, “Who are you and what are you reading?” Shakya was about to retort with “Who the hell are you to ask and how did you come here?”, when his mejo Boudi (sis-in-law) appeared and said, “Let me introduce you two. Shakya is my Bhaithan (Bro-in-law) from Delhi and she is Shoma, my younger sister. She is now studying at Shantiniketan and is here on vacation.” Shakya remembered the tragic event about 3 months back when his mejo boudi’s parents had met with a road accident on way to Kalimpong from Darjeeling and expired. Mr. Satyashadhon Mukherjee was the General Manager at a Tea Garden in Darjeeling area and was travelling with his wife when their driver lost control of the car while saving a group of pedestrians and plunged into the deep gorge.

Shoma was almost Shakya’s age, about a year or two younger, quite good-looking and intelligent. The two bonded very well in the next few days and by the time Shakya left for Delhi, the bond had transformed into something more. Both being student of economics, they had a leaning towards left of centre politics. They discussed, Marx, Lenin, Trotsky and Naxalism to the Left Front govt in West Bengal. Shakya and Shoma even managed to go Kolkata and spend the day watching Mrinal Sen movie and generally spending the day on their own. It seemed that there was tacit approval of mejo Boudi to their friendship. The day Shakya was to return, both were sad but decided to put up a brave front. They both agreed to write to each other regularly and exchanged their addresses. The long distance friendship was well established and flourishing.

Sometime in the beginning of December that year, Shoma wrote to Shakya that her University is planning a study tour to Delhi-Jaipur-Agra and she will take out time to meet him. Shakya was euphoric with the news and kept following her up with request to confirm the dates. He made up his mind to go Jaipur and Agra on those days as Shoma would be visiting.

Finally, the day came when Shoma and her nine friends along with two teachers landed up in Delhi and checked into a hotel in Paharganj near the New Delhi Railway Station. Shakya went to see her and got introduced to the others. The girls were quite interested in him but Shakya had his eyes only on Shoma. He spent some time at the hotel in the hope to talk to Shoma in privacy but that did not happen. Also, she informed him that they would be leaving for Jaipur early next morning and from there they will proceed to Agra and then come back to Delhi again in five days. Shakya was very dejected as he could not tag along with her to all those places. To cheer him up, Shoma said, “I have taken permission to stay back for two days once the tour finishes. So don’t be so melancholy my sweetie pie”. The news of her exclusive extra days in the city did cheer him up and he promised to show up again when the team comes back to Delhi, as he left her reluctantly.

Those two days with Shoma were the most memorable day in the life of Shakya. They went to see movies, theatre and art galleries as these were not part of her itinerary with the university group. They had the famous Delhi street foods – gol-gappa & paapri-chaat of Nathu’s at Bengali Market and bhatura-chana at Sita Ram, Paharganj and also dined at fine restaurants. On the last evening of her stay, Shakya mustered up courage and proposed to her. In her reply, she simply gave him the most passionate kiss and then they made love, initially awkwardly, because it was first time for both and then with more passion and vigour till both were completely exhausted.

The love did not whither or diminish when the following year Shakya went to IIM Ahmedabad to do his MBA program having graduated in high first class and securing a score of top 50 in the CAT exams. The correspondences continued between the two but Shakya had no opportunity to visit Burdwan because of the pressures of study, all he could manage was 2-days sojourn to home in Delhi twice a year. And in the second year, Shoma also moved to London to do her masters at LSE. The letters that were exchanged twice a week became twice a month but in every one of them, both professed their undying love for each other. Shakya graduated in PGDBA with a score of 8.2 CGPA and was hired from the campus by Citibank and got posted at Chennai. He was diligent worker and soon rose to the position of AVP in a short span of 4 years.

Shoma, meanwhile, finished her masters in Economics and had returned to Kolkata to do her Phd from Jadavpur University. The choice of JU was purely economical as the cost of doing it in Europe or US was highly deterrent. Shakya in all these years have never been to Kolkata or Burdwan during the Durga Puja festivities and decided to visit Kolkata and also look up Shoma with whom now he wanted to settle down. He requested his parents also to go but his father flatly turned down the offer saying he doesn’t want to visit the chaos called Kolkata. So, Shakya having taken 10 days leave took the flight straight from Chennai to Kolkata. He had pre-booked a room for the duration of his stay at a guest house near Deshpriyo Park, which is the happening place during the festivities. He did not inform Shoma with the intention of giving her a surprise at her flat near JU.

On the Shasti day (beginning of Durga Puja), Shakya went to meet Shoma at her girls hostel just outside the campus. He had bought a diamond ring for her and it was now safely sitting in his pocket. He got off the taxi at the JU gate and asked the tea vendor for the direction to the address. It was a short walk inside the lane and he found the house without much effort.

He knocked on the door and an elderly woman came out and asked, “Who do you want to see?” Shakya asked for Shoma and the lady shouted back to someone inside to send for Shoma. All the while, the lady had been guarding the door lest Shakya get inside, there was clear sign that no male is allowed inside. After a while another female came and told the lady that Shoma is not in her room, in fact she had left early in the morning but she does not know her destination. The elderly lady in turn started to tell Shakya the news but he had already heard so he simply thanked the lady and left.

On reaching the guest house, he called up his Mejo Boudi to check if Shoma had reached Burdwan but the call was picked up by his youngest uncle. He said, “Mejda & Boudi has gone to Darjeeling the day before, and Shoma hasn’t come to Burdwan. Where are you? Are you coming home?” Shakya had no intentions of going there so he simply said “No Chhotka, not now, may be next year I will spend the Pujo with you all.” After disconnecting the phone, Shakya contemplated his next course of action. The guesthouse keeper had already informed him that in case he was to pre-vacate, the minimum charge will be for three days. So he decided to stay put for now and visit the near-by Puja Mandaps and fly down to Delhi to spend some time with his parents.

Shakya made whirlwind tour of some of the most famous Durga Pujas of Kolkata starting with Deshapriya Park, Ekdalia, Suruchi Sangha, Lake Town, Badamtala, Bose Pukur, Kumartuli, Bagbazar, College Square etc. before flying back to Delhi. His parents were pleasantly surprised at his unannounced arrival. His mother was inquisitive about his Kolkata visit but Shakya just said that the place is maddening during the puja time and his father took the right call of not going. He spent the rest of his holidays at home only barely moving out. He was outwardly very calm but there was unease inside his mind. The day before leaving for Chennai, he had called Shoma’s PG only to be informed that she was not in her room.

Shakya returned to Chennai and his work and became busy during the day but remained restless in his free time. He had called the PG every alternate day but every time the answer had been the same that Shoma was not in her room. He could not somehow make out as to where had Shoma disappeared. Finally, after almost two months, he gathered courage to check with his mejo Boudi and called her to find Shoma’s whereabouts. “Helo, mejo-boudi, how are you?” he started off with usual greetings and then asked, “Do you know where is Shoma? Hope, she is fine.” The answer made him gasp for some air as felt breathless. “Oh, you don’t know, Shoma just got married last month with Ronald. They had met in London while she was in LSE. She has moved to Houston USA where Ronald teaches in the university. I wish you could come for the wedding but everything happened so quickly that we could not inform all you guys” said mejo-boudi over the phone but Shakya had stopped listening. He was feeling very unwell and took the rest of the day off and went for long drive to Mahabalipuram. The drive on the new highway and the relentless waves of the sea somehow calmed him. But he just couldn’t believe that he has been dumped so unceremoniously by Shoma.

“Hey, what’s up?” the shrill voice of Shoma brought him back to present from his reverie. He got up and shook the extended hand of Shoma and said, “Hi, it’s been long time. How are you?” “Am good” said Shoma and sat down across Shakya. “So, where are you going? Are you travelling alone?” Shakya wanted ask so many more questions but controlled his emotions. “I am going to Bangalore and from there to Chittoor, where my daughter Priyanka is studying in Rishi Valley School.”  There was an awkward silence which none of them wanted to break. “Will you like some coffee?” Shakya finally asked and got up to get the coffee without waiting for Shoma’s answer.

Getting back with two mugs of coffee, he placed one in front of Shoma and sat down. “So tell me how’s been life with you?” Shakya asked Shoma with a purpose. Instead of answering his question she said, “You tell me first.” Shakya thought for moment then said, “Well, I am settled in Fort Lauderdale with a Green Card. Dad and Mom both passed away two years back and I have no one to fall back in India now. This is probably my last visit wherein I intend to dispose off the Delhi property.” “I am sorry to hear about uncle and aunty” Shoma said softly. Then as an afterthought asked, “Didn’t you marry? What about your family?” Shakya took a hard look at Shoma and then calmly said, “I have none. Now tell me about yourself.”

Shoma looked a little uncomfortable but composed herself and said, “I know, you have not forgiven me but to tell you the truth, I have not led a very happy life. Ronald died in a car crash when Piku (Priyanka) was just five years. I had my University job, so managed somehow but Piku in the western cultural influence was getting out of hand, so two years back I got her enrolled in Rishi Valley. Now, I am moving to Hyderabad permanently, got an offer from ISB for Professorship in Economics.” Shakya did not say anything for some time, looked at his watch and realised his flight might be announced any time soon. He looked Shoma in the eyes and said, “You are mistaken Shoma, I had forgiven you then and there only. I realized that if a person can run away without telling, then that person is not worthy of any memories.” Then changing the cue, said, “My flight will be announced any time now, must move towards the gate. What time is your flight?”

Shoma did not answer. She simply sat there and sobbed softly. Shakya came around to her side and with his kerchief and wiped her tears, then turned to go as his flight is being announced. Shoma suddenly got up and gave a tight hug to Shakya and started crying visibly. Shakya was taken aback completely as a few eyes were directly upon them. He wriggled out her hug and looking straight into her eyes said, “I told you Shoma, I had forgiven and forgotten you. Today, there is no place for you in my life. Please control yourself and get grip on your life. Goodbye.”

Without giving a second look to her, he walked away towards the Gate no. 7A to board his flight. As he sat down in his Business Class Seat, he felt light, having finally erased the memory of Shoma. He felt truly liberated, free, albeit selfishly.

Sujoy works in a software company in Gurgaon and stays at a short distance from his office. He usually comes home late but makes up his long working hours on weekends with his beautiful wife Shreya with enjoyable outings to film or drama or just a long drive in his beloved Skoda Yeti.

On Monday morning, he left his apartment a little earlier than usual as he had an important client meeting. As he approached the parking spot where he parks his Skoda Yeti, he was stunned to see the spot empty! His beloved Yeti is gone, stolen. He called the watchman but the guy was adamant and kept saying that nobody had come during his duty hours. Sujoy forgot all about his important client meeting and rushed to the Police Station to lodge his complaint.

It has been two days and there’s no news about his stolen Yeti. He has been commuting in taxis and visibly upset about the loss of his Yeti.

On the third day, as he is about to get into the Meru cab for going to the office, he is pleasantly surprised to see his Skoda Yeti parked in its usual spot. He rushes towards the vehicle and inspects it to see any damages but there was none. He tries the door and it opens easily and on the driver’s seat there is an envelope with his name. He opens the envelope to finds a letter addressed to him. He starts reading it –

“Dear Sir,

Three days back in the middle of the night, my mother suddenly fell ill and had to be hospitalized. I could not find any taxis at that late hour so I had to borrow your car without telling you. The keys… well that I got from the Watchman’s keyboard, the fellow was in deep slumber.

I know, you have suffered mental trauma in the last few days because of my reckless behavior. I am really very sorry for that and plead with you to forgive me. I have filled the gas as much as I had used and the key is under the mat.

Sir, you have unknowingly helped me at a time when I was in distress and I shall remember that all my life. I can’t express my gratitude in words and as a token of my penance I have left two tickets of the late night show of the Hindi film Gabbar is Back in the envelope for you. Hope you will pardon me and accept this token gift. Once again I am really very sorry to cause you so much trouble, please consider me as your younger brother and forgive me.

Yours truly

Rajinder”

Sujoy was completely taken aback by this turn of events and rushed back to his apartment to tell Shreya what has happened. Shreya was surprised too but the couple decided to forgive the unknown Rajinder and watch the movie later that night.

Sujoy & Shreya came back late that night after enjoying the film Gabbar is Back and was shocked to see the shattered door lock of their apartment. As they entered, everything in the house was displaced, the music system in the living room, the televisions in the bedrooms, the ornaments and cash in the locker of Godrej almirah… all are gone.

There was a note stuck in the dressing table mirror, it said, “Hope you enjoyed the movie. By the way, Gabbar is Back”.