Posted on by Aranyascope

Once Upon A Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They are 4 of them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s Madan?”

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

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

“What case Sir?” asked the mason.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted on by Aranyascope

The Roommate

Sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sujoy:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted on by Aranyascope

Mother

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sukanto Bhattacharya.”

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

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

“Jirapali.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jirapali”

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

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

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

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

“Doctor Sahib, what are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dear Son,

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

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

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

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

Posted on by Aranyascope

Sujan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A young boy came running on the road.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? Who told you?” Satish asked.

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

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

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

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

Posted on by Aranyascope

The Woman with the Infant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” asked the guard again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted on by Aranyascope

The Diary of Anama (the Unknown)

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

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

Tuesday March 17

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

“Dear Sanjeev,

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

Love and blessings

Grandpa-2”      

Wednesday March 18

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

Thursday March 19

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

Friday March 20

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

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

“Kolkata”

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

“Something special, you won’t understand.”

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

“I have to go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you land up here in Narottampur?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did he reach here?”

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

“When did he die?”

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

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

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

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

“Who is your son?”

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

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

“But, he is dead.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted on by Aranyascope · 1 Comment

Favours Returned

Dr. Sameer Roy Chowdhury got posted to Nandigaon, a rural posting for a junior doctor, although Nandigaon is more of a mufassil town than a village with a municipal hospital in place. Sameer checked into his residential quarter behind the municipal hospital and joined the hospital in the morning. There were two other doctors but they lived in their own houses in the town. All three worked out an arrangement wherein Sameer would take care of any emergency cases at night being next door to the hospital and in lieu can enjoy extra off days to visit his parents once a month. Life in the mufassil town does not offer much excitement and falls in a routine very quickly.

On that eventful rainy evening, Sameer was studying for his NEET exams for PG course, the cook had prepared the dinner and left for the day. Around 9 pm Sameer decided to have dinner and started heating up the food in the microwave. There was a knock on his door. He opened the door to find the ward-boy Gopal standing under the umbrella… “Doctor, please come quickly to the hospital, there’s an accident victim in critical condition.” Gopal said with urgency.

“Okay, you go and help Wasim to clean the wounds, I will join you soon.” Sameer replied.

He put the food back in the refrigerator, taking his white coat and locking the house he rushed to the hospital. The hospital building is single storey with a long corridor having rooms on either side. There was hardly any patient at night, therefore only a skeletal staff on the night shift. Most of the lights were switched off with only two tube lights on either end of the corridor lighting up the space. The emergency toom was right at the beginning of the corridor where Sameer found a bloodied man on the stretcher trolley, there were visible injury on his head, arm and leg, the man was crying in pain. Sameer took a quick look at the victim decided to shift him to the operation theatre (OT) for surgery, the only hope to save his life.

The male nurse, Wasim was cleaning up the wounds and dressing the area, he wanted to quickly finish the job and go home to attend family function. He said, “It is not necessary, Doctor Sahib, we can let him go after the dressing of the wounds.”

“What are you saying, Wasim? The patient is not in a state to sit up even…is there anyone from his family?” Sameer asked.

“There’s no one with him, he was lying on the road and a kind autorickshaw driver brought him here”, replied Wasim as a matter of fact.

“Let’s not waste any more time and take him to the OT” saying so, Sameer started pushing the trolley. Gopal and Wasim joined him to push the trolley. The OT, on the far end of the corridor was locked, it took some time to locate the guard and get the keys. Gopal unlocked the door, Sameer and Wasim pushed the trolley and shifted the man on the operation table.

“Wasim, please boil some water immediately while I check on the patient” Sameer commanded.

The middle-aged man from the upcountry was in a bad shape… a deep wound on the forehead, a dislocated jaw, blood oozing out from the wounded chest, suggesting broken ribcage. Sameer switched on the focus lights of the operating table and was shocked to see the man. He knew him… Subol da from his village, a gentle soul, used to work on his father’s farm. Subol da lost his wife and young son in a road accident few years ago. The tragedy was too much for him to bear and he lost his mind. Sameer’s mother used to feed him and take care of him, then one day he disappeared from the village.

Sameer called out, “Subol da, Subol da, can you hear me?”

Subol looked at Sameer, his eyes blood red, he seemed to recognise him. His lips moved a little and he said uncomprehendingly something, feebly.

“Would like to drink some water, Subol da?” Sameer asked with concern.

Gopal brought a glass of water and Sameer fed Subol a few drops, a gurgling sound came out from his throat and his head tilted on the side letting out the water from his mouth. Sameer, checked the pulse and nodded sadly at his assistants, “Subol da is no more. Gopal, please arrange to shift the body in the morgue.”

Wasim covered the body with a white sheet and asked, “Doctor, you know him?”

“Yes, he is from my village. My mother used to adore him, she took care of him after tragedy hit him when he lost his wife and son in an accident.” Sameer replied.

“Then we should inform someone in his family” Wasim said hopefully.

“There’s no one in his family. Let the police take necessary action in the morning. Meanwhile, you go and get the paperwork ready, I will wash up and write up the report.”

Sameer looked at his bloodied hands, took out the ring from his finger and began to wash. Gopal went out to call the morgue assistant.

The guard came to lock the operation theatre as Sameer was drying his hand. He went back to the emergency room to write up the report. The guard locked the room and went to his post.

As he started writing, memories flooded his mind… he remembered Subol da telling him stories when he was young, giving him a ride on his bicycle and teaching him how to cycle. He also remembered how melancholy he had become after losing his family. His mother ensured, Subol da gets proper food everyday and tried to cheer him up…

“What are you thinking, Doctor?” Wasim’s question broke his reverie. He started writing up the report and signed it putting an official stamp on the report. As he was putting the pen away, he noticed that his ring is missing. He remembered taking it out to wash his hand in the OT washbasin. The gold ring, with an amethyst stone was specially made for him by his mother, it was special. He rushed out to retrieve it from the OT.

The corridor was empty as the few patients occupying the benches have gone home after getting treated. The tube light at the other end of the corridor near the OT has started flickering, signalling time to change it. When he reached the OT door, he found it locked, he called out to Gopal to get the keys from the guard.

While waiting for Gopal to bring the key, he felt the air around him getting heavy, the flickering of the light gave an eeriness to the surrounding especially as the morgue happened to be the room opposite to the operation theatre. There was no sign of Gopal or the guard, he started walking back to look for the key himself. He took few steps but stopped at the sound of the lock being opened. He turned around to see the guard opening the OT room door. Sameer was perplexed, where did he come from? I didn’t see him coming. He thought.

After a little while, the guard came out from the room but did not look at Sameer, in fact he stood with his back facing him.

“Did you get my ring?” Sameer asked.

The guard simply stood there silently.

“What happened? Did you bring out my ring?” Sameer asked, desperation showing in his voice.

Without saying a word, the guard extended his hand backwards holding the ring. Sameer took the ring and immediately felt an icy cold wave pass through his body. He looked at the figure closely. This is not the guard, he wears a proper uniform, this one is wearing a pajama and torn shirt.

“Who are you?” Sameer called out. His voice had become shrill in unknown fear.

The man slowly turned around to face Sameer.

Sameer was shocked to find Subol da standing, the deep wound on the forehead, the incapacitated left arm dangling on the side. He let out a deafening scream and started running back to the emergency room. Then he saw Gopal and the guard coming with key.

“What happened Doctor Sahib?” Gopal asked with concern.

Sameer took hold of Gopal, shivering violently and blurted out, “Subol da.”

“What about him? Where is he? I kept his body in the morgue.” Gopal said.

“He was in front of the OT, he went in to fetch my ring from the room.” Sameer spoke haltingly, still impacted by fear. He showed them the ring on his finger.

“What are you saying sir, I locked the door myself and keys are still with me” the guard replied.

“Let’s go and check the OT.” Gopal said as he walked towards the OT. Wasim too joined them.

The OT room was locked and so was the mortuary room. Sameer spoke in a dazed state, “But, I saw Subol da going in and bringing out my ring.”

Wasim, placed his hands on Sameer’s shoulder like an elder brother and said, “Consider this as a favor returned. Your Subol da just paid back all the love and favors that your mother showered on him. The spirits do return to pay their debts.”

Posted on by Aranyascope · 3 Comments

The Haunted House

The house stood amidst a large unkept garden, it was big, probably has five or six bedrooms besides sitting and lounging areas. Lt. Colonel (Retd) Narayan Reddy stopped when he saw the FOR-RENT sign hung over the gate.  He tried to push open the gate but it was locked and made crackling noise. A middle-aged man came out from a house, opposite side of the road…

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Yes please, I am thinking of renting this house, where can I find the owner?”

“The owner doesn’t live here. I am the caretaker of that house. I am Vilas Deshmukh. And you?”

The man folded his hand in namaste and introduced himself.

“Narayan Rao, retired Army Officer.”

“I wouldn’t recommend you to rent this house, it has a very bad reputation. Who all is there in your family?”

“I and my handyman Sambhunath. Can I see the house from the inside and then decide?”

“Sure. I will get the keys.”

Vilas Deshmukh went back to his house to get the keys. Narayan Reddy walked around to take a better view of the house from the sides and he liked what he saw. It was a big double-story house with lawns all around the built-up area.

Vilas Deshmukh opened the lock of the gate and they entered. It, indeed is a big house spread over two floors, the ground floor has a big hall for sitting, a dining room, kitchen and pantry besides a storeroom at one corner just next to the staircase that’s going to the upper floors. The first floor comprises of four very spacious bedrooms around a central lounging area. Moreover, there was an open field at rear and a lake providing cool breeze throughout the day.

“I will take it, Mr. Deshmukh. I am giving you the cheque for two months right now.”

“There’s no hurry for that, Col. Reddy. I request you to reconsider your decision… of the last two occupants, none could stay beyond one night, the first one was found dead below the staircase and his servant in the rear lawns while the second one came out of the house screaming in dead of night. There are other houses I know that are up for renting, I can show you those.”

“I am not refuting your claim but I am taking this house, I will come in the evening with Sambhunath.”

In the evening Narayan Reddy along with his handyman Sambhunath came with their luggage and settled down in their new abode. Sambhunath liked the house, “Saheb, it’s too big for us?” he said innocently.

“Sambhu, we have seen hard days in our army days, now its time to enjoy life.” Narayan Reddy affectionately placed his hand on Sambhu’s head and ruffled his hair.

They ordered food from the nearby eatery and finished their dinner early. Narayan Reddy decided to take the first room near the staircase on the first floor and allotted the adjacent room to Sambhunath.

Narayan Reddy woke up in the middle of night as he thought he heard footsteps outside. No, he can hear the footsteps, very soft, climbing up the stairs, the sound stopped in front of his door. He has a gun but it is in the cupboard, taking it out might alarm the intruder. He picked up the 5-cell torch, it could be used as a weapon if need arises. The footsteps slowly started retreating and climbing down the stairs. Narayan Reddy, took out his revolver and opened the door, Sambhu too had heard the footsteps and came out of his room. Both went down to check from where the intruder had entered… all the doors and windows were locked and tightly shut, no one can come through them. It’s an old house, there might be some hidden ways at the back of the house, will check in the morning, Narayan Reddy thought aloud.

Nothing untoward happened rest of the night. In the morning, Narayan and Sambhu did a thorough search of the house but couldn’t find any secret outlet to enter or exit the house.

“I will go and get the grocery and vegetables from the market; we can’t survive on hotel food every day.” Narayan Reddy announced and left for the market.

As he was getting into the car, Mr. Deshmukh came out, “How was your first night in the new home?” he shouted from his balcony.

“All well. It is a big house, there were some unusual noises but nothing serious.”

Waving goodbye to Mr. Deshmukh, he drove away to the market.

When Narayan Reddy came back from the market after almost two hours he found Sambhu standing outside near the gate, visibly shaken, ashen faced.

“What happened? Why are you standing outside?”

“Come inside Saheb, I will tell you.” Sambhu’s voice wavered.

Sambhunath took out the grocery-vegetable bags from the car and went inside behind Narayan Reddy.

“Okay, tell me now”, once inside, Narayan Reddy commanded Sambhu.

“Saheb, I was cleaning and dusting the rooms and went to the storeroom to look for a broom, suddenly, I felt someone is standing behind me breathing heavily, it was ice cold. I turned around but there was nobody. Saheb, this house is spooky, makes me very nervous, let’s go back to our old house.”

“Sambhu, this is a big house and you were alone, you must be thinking about last night and then you may have felt the cool breeze floating in from the lake. Don’t worry, everything will be alright.”

Though Narayan Reddy assured Sambhunath, he, himself was a bit unsettled but being a Fauji, kept his cool and like a sniffer dog, searched the entire house for any clue. The house was as clean as the bright sunshine outside. The day passed peacefully.

Narayan Reddy decided to stay awake at night, had a frugal dinner in the evening followed it up with few cups of black coffee to help him stay awake. Sambhunath slept early in his room. Narayan Reddy made himself comfortable on the easy chair and waited… for something unusual to happen.

As the night grew, there was eerie silence except for the tick-tock sound coming from the wall clock.  Despite the cups of coffee, Narayan Reddy ultimately dozed off only to wake up with a start when the church bell struck at midnight. His senses stiffened immediately, he could feel the presence of another person in the darkened room, someone is right behind him… the icy breathing very close to his neck. The Fauji spirit in him made him jump out of the chair and face the intruder, a blank space behind the easy chair was all that he could see. He heard the quick pace of footsteps running down the stairs and then came the sound of something heavy falling down followed by a heart wrenching cry of a dying man and then there was complete silence. He has seen death and the agony from very close in army but even he was stunned by the event.

“Saheb, open the door.” Sambhunath banged on the door.

Narayan Reddy came out to find Sambhu shaking in fear. He pulled him inside his room and gave him water to drink. They spent the rest of the night, awake and tensed but it passed peacefully.

In the morning, Narayan Reddy found Vilas Deshmukh having tea on the balcony of his house.

“Oh, come Col. Reddy, have some tea. You are really tough military man who could live in that house for two nights.” Deshmukh said jovially.

“Thank you, Deshmukh ji. Please tell me what exactly happened in that house.” He asked seriously.

“Okay, I am going to tell you what I know. Long ago, maybe 10-12 years back, a Bengali businessman named Pralay Dey, a businessman from somewhere in Bengal built this house. He was a bachelor and lived with his nephew. Life was good for him… his business was booming. He even got his nephew married and the new bride took control of the household. They were a happy family. Then suddenly, one morning, Pralay was found dead, probably slipped and hit head on the floor.” Deshmukh stopped take a sip of his tea.

“As per the last will and testament of the deceased, the property and money were received by the nephew who within a months’ time winded up the business, sold the house and left the city without any forwarding address.” Deshmukh stopped, sadness enveloped his eyes.

“The house was bought by Ghanshyam Das, a businessman from Delhi. He wanted to setup a Confectionery and Sweet Shop for his son, Angshuman. They performed puja and threw a grand house warming party. Angshuman and his mother went back to Delhi leaving Ghanshyam Das to finish setting up of the shop with his trusted servant Baburam. Next day morning, Ghanshyam Das was found dead near the staircase while the body of Baburam was discovered in the back lawns.”

“Anshuman tried to sell the house but by then the news of multiple death in that house has spread like forest fire, no one was interested in buying the house even at a discount. Anshuman, asked me to be the caretaker and look for a suitable buyer or tenant; the house has remained vacant for over five years till you came in.”

Narayan Reddy took leave of Deshmukh without telling him about the incidents of last two nights. He called up his junior colleague in the army, Major Ashish Kumar…

“Hello Ashish, how are you?”

“I am fine Sir. Its good to hear from you, hope you are in good health.”

“Yes, I am fine. Actually, I called you about your brother, you had once mentioned that he’s a para-psychologist and is interested in paranormal activities, I want to consult him.”

“Well Sir, my brother, Nirmal, incidentally lives very close to you, only an hour away. I am sending you his number, you can call him up. I hope, it is nothing serious.”

“No, no, not at all. Just need to satisfy my curiosity.” Narayan assured his friend.

Narayan Reddy called up Nirmal Kumar to fix an appointment and left to meet him. He narrated the events of the previous two nights to Nirmal Kumar. He asked few questions then said, “Let’s go to your home and see it firsthand.”

Nirmal Kumar, with his vast experience in paranormal activities, could sense that everything was not right in the house. He felt an undercurrent of tension in the air. He checked every room, the balconies and the lawns; the storeroom intrigued him the most.

Nirmal Kumar took a deep breath and said, “Look, Narayan, something is not okay here. I will come back in the evening with my assistant, Mrityunjay who is an excellent medium, will do a planchet to call the disturbed spirit to pacify it, hope we will succeed.” Narayan Reddy had no faith in occult sciences but kept quiet.

As the day turned into evening, Sambhunath started getting agitated, Narayan Reddy could feel that Sambhu will not be able cope with another night of turmoil. He thought of sending him to Deshmukh household for the night. Just then Nirmal Kumar along with Mrityunjay came in and declared, “Nobody needs to go anywhere, the four of us will sit for the planchet and call the disturbed spirit.”

As directed by Nirmal Kumar, they set up a round table with four chairs in Narayan’s bedroom. Nirmal Kumar asked them to sit down holding each other’s hand, thinking about the spirit that visited them. All eyes were on Mrityunjay who is going to act as the medium. Ten or fifteen agonising minutes passed, nothing happened; then suddenly with a great force all the doors and windows opened and gush of cold air filled the room. Mrityunjay’s body shook up violently but Nirmal and Narayan on his either side holding his hand, kept him glued to the chair.

Nirmal asked, “Who are you? Why are you roaming in this house?”

There was no response, so Nirmal repeated his question, a bit more firmly. Mrityunjay slowly spoke up but it was all garbled.

“Speak clearly. We are here to help you. What is your name?” Nirmal almost shouted this time.

Mrityunjay’s lips moved, “I am Pralay Dey. I was murdered in this house. I have nowhere else to go.”

“Tell us in details.” Nirmal Kumar shouted again.

“I used live here happily with my nephew, Nimai. The business was good and Nimai was learning the tricks of the trade quite well. He was the only family I had. I got him married to a girl named Usha. I had bequeathed all my assets to Nimai. I don’t know why or who poisoned his mind, he became greedy and wanted all the wealth immediately. One night he dressed up in the devil’s attire to scare me. I panicked and ran down the stairs but he came after me and pushed me inside the storeroom, I fell down, my head hitting the iron grill of the utility shelf… I lost consciousness. Nimai and Usha locked me up, being a heart patient, I felt claustrophobic and died of suffocation during the night in the storeroom. And since then, I am living there.”

“Why did you kill two innocent people?”

“I did not kill anyone; they got scared by my presence. The servant went to the roof and jumped to his death while his boss slipped from the stairs and died.”

“So, what is the solution? Why don’t you go away?”

“I can’t leave this house, especially that storeroom. Let me live here in peace, you keep that room closed, all the time… I can’t stay with you anymore; it will soon be morning.”

A gush of wind swept the room, the door and windows shut violently, Mrityunjay collapsed on the chair. Nirmal sprinkled water on Mrityunjay’s face to wake him up. In the morning, Narayan Reddy called the mason to build a wall in place of the door of the storeroom sealing it permanently and giving the spirit of Pralay Dey his own space in the house that he had built to enjoy living but couldn’t in his lifetime.

Posted on by Aranyascope · 2 Comments

Engine #913

By the time I reached the station gate, I saw the train leaving the platform. It’s a small station of a village where only passenger trains stop and the frequency is very low. I looked at my watch, it showed a little over 5 pm and the next train to Kolkata (Calcutta) is now expected around 8 pm, I have to kill 3 hours in this deserted place, its not only painful but boring as well with no one to talk and nothing to see except the open field across the platform with sparse vegetation. I had come on official work at the Panchayat Office of the cluster of villages few kilometres away. I would have reached on time but the Panchayat Head insisted on having lunch at his home and then the only transport of the village, a cycle rickshaw had a tyre puncture forcing me to walk the distance to the station. I was feeling a bit exhausted from the brisk walk and frustrated at missing the train.

I entered the platform, it’s small with a room/ office of the Station Master and a ticket counter on one side and the other side a large shade for the luggage/ parcels, in the centre of the platform are two benches for the waiting passengers to rest. I sat down on one of the benches and stared across the platform through the open field. I don’t know when and how long I had been dozing but was awakened by the voice, “Where do you want to go?” I looked up to find a middle-aged person in black coat and white trousers looking at me inquisitively, must be the Station Master and may have got interested looking at my urban dressing style. “Kolkata” I replied. “Oh, you missed the train, now the next one is expected at 8 pm” he spoke with concern. “You seem to be a city dweller, where did you visit?” he continued with his query. “I came to visit the Panchayat Office for a meeting with the Panchayat Head, Akhil Babu and he insisted on having lunch with him which delayed me otherwise I would have caught the train” I replied. “He is my maternal cousin, please come to office, we can talk and relax till your train comes. We are village people, hardly ever leave the station, and let alone visiting a city like Kolkata, please tell me about the city” the Station Master said with enthusiasm.

I followed him to his office; it was filled with old furniture and files and had a smell of dust all around. He pushed a chair towards me to sit, there was a bench near the wall for the visitors to sit. The Station Master, Binod Babu, sat on his chair which had seen better days, now it was missing one arm, but Binod Babu seemed comfortable. He took out a packet of Bidi, a indigenous smoking stick of tobacco rolled in tendu or temburni leaf and tied with a string or adhesive, and offered me. I declined as I am a non-smoker. “You, city dwellers prefer cigarette over the local bidi” Binod Babu observed. “No, no, I don’t smoke at all” I protested.

Binod Babu lit his Bidi and took a long puff releasing several rings of smoke and said, “I first had my Bidi while in school and father caught me…what a thrashing he gave me!! But, the habit continues till date. Oh, I almost forgot there’s some urgent work I have to attend. You relax here, I will join you soon.” I sat there and looked around, I couldn’t see any electricity connection in the room and it was getting darker as the evening progressed. After some time, Binod Babu came back with another person and apologised “Sorry, I kept you waiting for long”. Before I could respond, the person accompanying him spoke up, “I heard, you live in Kolkata… I had once gone there, some 20 years ago… had no road or location sense… wanted to visit Kalighat but ended up at Kolaghat.”

“Stop your Kolkata story, Abani. You have told us this story at least twenty times” Binod Babu snapped at the newcomer, Abani Babu.

“Please continue” I tried to put Abani Babu at ease but he gave a quick glance towards Binod Babu and said “Forget about me, let us hear about you and Kolkata”.  

As we were talking, a peon came in with a lantern and placed it on the table then asked, “Shall I get you some hot tea”?

“Yes, and also get some snacks as well” replied Binod Babu.

As the peon turned to go, another gentleman showed up at the door. “Please come in Narayan Babu” Binod Babu called enthusiastically. “Shall I get the snacks for 4 person then”? queried the peon.

“Isn’t that obvious” roared Binod Babu.

The person named Narayan Babu entered the room… he must be over sixty, slim and tall with darkish complexion. He looked at me and exclaimed, “I don’t think we have met before”. Before I could respond, Binod Babu introduced me and explained my predicament.

“So, you are from Kolkata, must be knowing the card game TwentyNine… there are four of us, perfect for the game. I have heard that people in Kolkata plays card game even while walking” Narayan Babu laughed heartily as others joined too.

Meanwhile, the peon came back with three cups of tea and four packets of Jhal Muri with Tele Bhaja (puffed rice preparation with pakoda) and placed the tray on the table. Narayan Babu picked up one packet of snacks while Binod Babu offered the tea to Abani Babu and me taking the third cup for himself. I felt little awkward and asked, “What about tea for Narayan Babu”?

Binod Babu and Abani Babu spoke together, “He won’t have tea. He’s scared of ghosts.”

“That’s strange… he won’t drink tea for fear of ghost”? I asked.

Abani Babu said, “That’s a funny story”.

“It’s not a story but true incident” Narayan Babu said with all seriousness.

“If you have no objections, please tell us about it… there’s still enough time before my train arrives”, I requested.

Abani Babu also joined in, “Don’t be angry Narayan, I was just joking… please tell us what happened”.

Narayan Babu relaxed a bit and relented…he looked out of the window in the darkness and began…

I am the witness to the incident that I am going to tell you, it happened many years ago during the British Raj/ Colonial Rule.

I have just started my job at the railways as an assistant in the engine room. It was a tough job of putting coal in the steam engine… sometimes we had to work continuously for 2-3 days at a stretch. We had to cook our own food, tea and sleep within the limited space inside the steam engine.

It was winter days when we were bringing a goods train full of tea leaves from Siliguri to Kolkata, the entire load was meant for Great Britain. There were four of us inside the engine room, the driver Maqbul Mian, a hefty six footer with matching body and strength, his co-driver, Ramratan Misra, almost reaching his retirement age and two coal feeder Poran Mondal and myself.

Narayan Babu helped himself with a mouthful of Jhal Muri and continued…

It was extremely cold night; we were shivering even with layers of warm clothes and the heat from the engine fire… I shivering uncontrollably, feeling sick, even sitting next to the engine furnace did not help. Maqbul saw that and said, “Why don’t you sleep for a while. I will manage the feeding. In fact, Ramratan Ji should also take a break”.

We found a corner to lie down and soon the vibration coupled with the noise of the engine helped us to get into a deep slumber. We woke up with a jolt as the train came to a stop. Maqbul confirmed that the signal is down indicating no passage. It was pitch dark outside and bone-chilling cold but nothing could be done, we were stranded in the middle of nowhere. In the pitch darkness the only lights came from the fireflies but the cold was making me sick again, probably a cup of tea can warm me up a bit. “Brother Poran, can you make some tea for us?” I requested.

Poran Mondal, probably just out of teenage, is jolly fellow and always ready to do any chores with a smile. He went to the pantry to boil the water and make tea. After a while declared that there’s no tea in the container, we have consumed the entire lot during the journey from Siliguri.

“We are carrying tea leaves in the wagons next to the engine” I spoke aloud.

“Right, you are” said Ramratan Ji “I will go and get some for us, I have seen one box is broken at the corner”.

 As Ramratan started to climb down, Poran joined him. Maqbul was uncomfortable with the whole idea and said, “I am worried about the inspector traveling in the guard room. He is not a good man and very vindictive. If he catches them, the situation can become very ugly”.

“But we are not stealing for money, only taking a little for our own consumption and that too from the spillage” I tried to reason with Maqbul.

“I know that but I am concerned about the train inspector, he is a devil incarnate,,, he won’t empathize” Maqbul replied still worried.

“He must be in deep sleep in the guard room” I tried to assure Maqbul as well as myself. Even I became a little worried about Ramratan Ji and Poran.

We went to the door to check but couldn’t see anything or anyone in the pitch darkness, maybe they are inside one the wagons. The fire in engine had dimmed so I fed coal into the furnace and sat near it to soak in some warmth of the engine heat.

Suddenly, there was a commotion outside and a loud voice, “Who is there? Identify yourself.” The voice no doubt belongs to the train inspector, the devil. He must be hiding somewhere nearby… and caught Ramratan and Poran as soon as they came out from the wagon.

Maqbul tried to intervene but the three of them came inside the engine room, the inspector holding Ramratan Ji by the collar. “This man of yours was stealing tea from the wagon” he barked at Maqbul.

“I did not steal, only took a little quantity from the spillage on the floor” protested Ramratan Ji.

“Yes, we did not steal, Ramratan Ji is telling the truth.” Poran echoed.

“Ramratan Ji is telling the truth. He had only gone to take a little portion of the tea for our own use… it is very cold here and we had run out of our stock. Please let him go, next week his daughter is getting married and it would create many problems if you arrest him for this minor issue” Maqbul tried to reason with the inspector.

“Lie, you were stealing the tea” the inspector was adamant. We were scared, Ramratan Ji was shivering in panic and had lost colour.

Maqbul looked straight in the eyes of the inspector and said, “If someone wants to steal, will he take only a handful or the full box? You are unnecessarily suspecting us.”

“Taking a handful of tea or a wagon full of tea, makes no difference, both are act of stealing only. I will file the report as soon as we reach the next station” the inspector shouted back at Maqbul.

“I won’t ever go anywhere near the wagon, please pardon me this time” Ramratan Ji cried out.

“You should have thought about it before stealing, now let’s go” saying this the inspector pushed Ramratan Ji towards the door.

If the inspector really files the complaint, Ramratan Ji will not only lose his job but even get jailed as well. I pleaded with the inspector, “Let it go Sir, please have mercy on him… next week his daughter is getting married, it will be scandalous if you arrest him now”.

The inspector looked at me with a devilish smile and said, “He did not think about it while stealing, now he will have to pay for his sin. Let’s go, the guard has given signal to move”.

Ramratan Ji cried again and grabbed the leg of the inspector, “You are my lord, please forgive me, I will never do such thing again”.

We knew the inspector was trying to take Ramratan Ji to his room for handing him over to the police at the next station. We felt helpless in front of the satanic inspector. Meanwhile, the guard blew the whistle indicating the line is clear to move forward. Ramratan Ji looked at Maqbul and pleaded, “Please help me Maqbul bhai”.

In that moment, Maqbul’s eyes suddenly turned bright and he swiftly moved between the inspector and Ramratan Ji and spoke in a grave voice, “Let him go inspector, don’t ruin his life for a handful of tea leaves”.

The inspector was taken aback by the demeanor of Maqbul and took a step back letting go of Ramratan Ji. “If I let go of him it will affect my career, I had caught two thieves earlier and this case will ensure my promotion” the inspector blurted out.

“Scoundrel, just for the promotion, you are trying to ruin the life of an innocent person?” Maqbul shouted at the inspector.

Maqbul was shivering from excitement and rage but the inspector had regained his composer and said menacingly, “Move out from my way, I will have you all arrested for theft and obstructing a police officer”.

Maqbul’s face distorted with anger and he looked very different person at that time. I have heard that his ancestors were dreaded dacoits once upon a time but he had chosen a civilized way of life. But now, the old blood somehow had entered his bloodstream, he moved forward catching the inspector by his arms and lifted him up, “You want your promotion, I will give you the promotion”, he hissed into the face of the inspector.

Maqbul no more a human, he had turned into a demon now, we were scared and completely stunned into inaction. Maqbul dragged the inspector towards the furnace, the inspector was scared too and pleaded with Maqbul, “Okay, I won’t arrest him, let me go…I don’t want any promotion”.

“What are you doing, Maqbul?” cried Ramratan Ji.

“I am promoting the inspector to the next level” Maqbul hissed.

Before any of us could react, Maqbul lifted up the inspector like a toy and threw him in the furnace. All we heard was the deafening cry of the inspector followed by the urgent whistle of the guard asking us to start the engine. Maqbul simply fed more coal in the furnace to energize and pulled the lever to begin the journey as if nothing has happened. The swiftness of the event and the nonchalant demeanor of Maqbul had turned us into stone sculpture.

The rest of the journey is completely blurred from my memory… I don’t remember how I reached home the following day but by evening I had very high fever which lasted for a week. When I went to work after ten days, there was complete chaos at the station. No one is willing to take charge of the engine no. 913. I shuddered, this is the same engine we operated that fateful night. The driver named Gomes was standing nearby and I went to him to find about the issue, “What’s the problem, Gomes?”

He looked at me strangely and said, “There’s a ghost in that engine”.

“What are you saying? Have you seen it yourself?”

“The night before yesterday I drove it and two days before that Gopal was driving it back and he told me. I thought he consumes Ganja so may have hallucinated”.

“There must have been other people in the engine no. 913, did they see or hear anything?”

“Yes, they too heard.”

“What did you hear when you were driving it?”

Gomes looked at me blankly, evidently there was fear in his eyes. He pulled me, “Let’s go and sit there. I will tell you, my experience.”

We sat down on a bench next to the parcel room, Gomes lit up a cigarette, took a few puffs to calm his nerve and said, “I don’t believe in the existence of ghosts. I did not believe what Gopal told me either. That night we picked up the load and left Siliguri on time. As the evening progressed, the darkness enveloped, the atmosphere inside the engine room became heavy, I could find no reason for it but we all felt some discomfort. It was not just the chill but something more as if something is trying to strangle us, we were feeling breathless. Suddenly, the engine coughed and gave jerks, I thought there must be something on the track, so I applied the break but the engine did not stop, it kept going at the same speed”.

“What happened next?”

“As the engine accelerated, we could feel putrid smell of burning flesh coming from the furnace. It was suffocating, I started sweating even in that chilly night, I thought I will faint. The fire in the furnace was low so I fed coal in it, the furnace lit up instantly and there was a deafening cry of someone coming from the furnace. I couldn’t make out what the crying voice was saying but Ratul, my assistant heard someone saying ‘leave me please, I don’t want any promotion’. Fear of unknown was gripping me, making me turn into a statue unable to move an inch. Then suddenly something pushed me with a strong force and I fell to the floor. Ratul, my assistant too was lying next to me, his face drained of blood. The engine continued to run as if nothing has happened”.

Gomes took few more puffs and continued, “Somehow, we managed to bring the train here and narrated our experience but no one believed us. Yesterday, a new team took out the engine no.913, this morning they came back with two of their member in a critical health. Now, no one is ready to drive the engine no.913.”

“My mouth had become dry, unable to offer any words to Gomes, I left him there and came back home. Next day I resigned from my job at the railways and also gave up on tea.” Narain Babu concluded with a sigh.

There was a complete silence in the room for some time, then Binod Babu looked at his watch and said to me, “Let’s go, it’s time for your train to Kolkata”.