-Shishir Kumar
Switching from a bona fide crime reporter to a paranormal researcher indeed needed a jolt to start. Prior, dealing crime scene, visiting post mortem houses and sitting besides depleted dead bodies and writing notes was an everyday affair. No fear and no thought of ghost.
The inherit fear and belief on ghost, that I had since childhood, had vanished with time. I could without emotion see the lynched bodies, whose sight would give a normal person sleepless nights for months. I sat as the postmortem went on, sipping tea, peeping inside the corpse to understand what led to the organ failure.
In this routine life I too needed a break. An evening I switched off all the phones and caught a bus to my native village. That was how I did it every time, even my office and family was OK with it by then.
My village lies very near to the Himalayan range. It had just two families till 50s, who had shifted post Bhoodan movement in that area, later joined by labors and Bangladeshi immigrants. So, a typical Haveli of 40’s with a corner that had an old well fenced with thatched divider for no entry, with strict instructions to not to enter that space at night.
As I reached for my two days break, to my bad luck or say good, it started raining, and that too cyclonic. Means I was stuck for next five days. It won’t stop before that. Rain meant only puddle that replaced the village roads.
The third night, we had a small get together of brothers. So it was the chicken with beer that ruled the evening. We retired to our rooms. My brother and I shared a room. It was dot 3:00 am at night when the beer inside me forced by the cold winds of Himalayan range coupled with rain, asked me to get up.
Rain in villages means snakes. As their nest gets filled with water they rush to the human habitat.
I asked my brother to accompany me in case I encounter one of the ropes (It’s prohibited to speak snakes post sunset in villages). But his beer was still in his brain surrounding the medulla oblongata. He asked me politely to get lost.
I came out of the room. It was awesome, dark, breeze of the Himalayan range and drizzle. Something made the adrenal gland inside me get up. And I instead of heading towards the toilets (that rests in backyard and looked like a forest then) or finding a suitable corner like any other Indian men walked straight to the thatched fence. Excitement Unparallel!
I slipped inside through a gap. It took me a few second to adjust the lenses inside my eyes and see what I had only seen in the sunlight. So on the end stood 60 years old walls, painted yellow, had cracks from past earthquakes. Very next to it was a jackfruit tree on the right hand side and on the left was a hand pump that should have been by the Archaeological department by now. And in front of me was “The Well”.
After realizing the surrounding I started what I had gone for, with somewhere in mind to challenge if something existed. Beer, cold weather meant more than a minute. But then I saw someone beside the well and behind the hand pump means diagonally some 3 feet away from me.
Oh, it was a woman. A smiling woman. Of course clad in white sari, but it had a border and green one.
No, no, no, no, nono its just hallucination. Mind creates images when we see in dark. I looked the other side towards the jack fruit and back to the left. Man! she still stood smiling.
Could have been my imagination because of the stories of the well I had heard, but no one ever told me a story about this well, she is still smiling.
It has to be a reflection of some wall due to some light source. Really, its cyclone means power cut and a cloudy sky which means no moon.
I again looked at her. She stood firm still smiling, as if telling me - “Challenge Accepted”.
That one minute my mind was invaded by millions of probable reasons (I was a well read chap). I tried everything from Law of reflection to optometry, from Geeta to Paranormality and from Sigmund Freud to Brain Weiss. Believe me nothing worked. It stood in front of me some 5’4 tall, Feet’s hazy, cloth visible, face unclear yet smile prominent.
The gush of beer, at night in Himalayan range, is unstoppable. I could not even run away. Last 10 second I pretended I am not seeing you. As it ended I ran as if I had seen a ghost, I had actually seen one.
Kicked my brother, woke him up, and took the flash light, both of us searched the whole area. Found nothing, just a memory - the smiling face.
With that started my journey of paranormal research, and now its unstoppable. That smiling face would always remain a driving force until I find what I am here to find.
Would share the second ghost sighting soon, Keep a Tap!
© Shishir Kumar
Comments
Post a Comment