- Shishir Kumar
And the later part night went discussing that what we just saw was what the Bengali legends call Dakini or this is the entity that is known as Chudail. Still not clear, but we had definitely seen something very disturbing.
It was a challenge I had taken up. A tantric in his mid 40s had asked me to accompany him to the funeral ground where he would evoke the spirits and I would be able to see them. The condition was I should not run away.
I? Run Away? Are you serious?
He had asked me to come by 11 at night. But out of anxiety and pure happiness, I bought a bottle of 100 pipers and rushed to his house exact at 9. As I barged into his hut, he sat on a mat that looked like a cheap replica of tiger skin. That was the only cloth around him. Further, he was covered with beads and rosary. That was what I could see prima facie. His hut had an entry from right, he sat in the middle of opposite wall and visitors could sit leaning the left wall of the house.
As my eyes started tuning itself with the light source in the room, I could see a finer matrix. It was half of a human skull on which was kept an earthen lamp. There was a trident to his left that had not less that some 100 rosaries hanging. In front of him were posters of some deities that could not clearly seen as was a think wall of smoke from incense sticks and dhuni. He sat with yoni mundra totally mum. I turned towards the left side of his hut to find a seat.
As I tried fixing my eyes to find a seat, I saw something that almost paralyzed me. I could see head of an old man hanging in air. He looked as dead years ago. He was smiling at me. Some 80 year old man’s face, white hair, crooked yet pleasant smile, all in name of teeth he had a lateral incisor hanging. I could see its every detail by now, even the wrinkles. With a facial gesture he invited me to come to him.
I stopped, stepped back and stumbled on the tantric’s sleeping dog. As it woke so did my friend.
“What happened?”
I pointed towards the smiling face.
“That was guru maharaj. He will be going with us.” And then he lit the huts light. This cunning old man was fully clad in black and so… Matrix!
“You are early why?” This was a different man I tell you. His eyes were red, strange body language and peculiar smell as he passed by.
“I thought I would help you in preparation. See I have brought the whisky.”
Arrogantly, I was asked to sit outside. I strolled out and went to sit below the Peepal tree. The hut stood in midst of a plain land with just a tree under which I sat and two shrubs of Mexican Oleander one to my right and another some 20 feet from of me. I sat gazing the dark sky in that no moon night.
Soon I was joined by two more people. One of them was a patient. He claimed that a woman lives inside him. Wow!
Just before midnight, we started walking towards the funeral ground. My dear tantric friend headed us all naked. He claimed he had covered himself with mantras and only we could see him. Common, dogs bark at visible as well as invisible things.
Then was the patient, followed by I then patient’s Mr. Whosoever and finally down the chain was the crawling Gurujee, who was somehow pushing the ground to match the pace, but the smile and the hanging incisor were enact.
It was a village funeral ground. No lights. As we reached its invisible boundary he clapped thrice. We sat around an almost burned funeral prey. Next to me on my left sat the “sky is whose cloth” tantric, right to me was Mr. whosoever, then sat Gurujee and between them sat the woman inside man.
The hawan started. Woman started showing up, abusing the tantric and getting the answer in same tone. The smile around the incisor increased “See we proved!”
I ignored. I could see nothing. Yes at a moment I did see in a flash of something white standing just next to the patient. The tantric asked me with an eye gesture if I had seen something, I refused – Matrix!
And the show of being abused and abusing went on for an hours. The woman went away or may be gone tired after the long performance. I was asked to give the whisky I had brought. Some portion of it was given to fire and then the party began. At 3 we returned after all the 3 bottles were consumed to an extent of being licked, the 80 years old grand elf had it all.
Gurujee went in trance and was carried back like a gunny bag and was thrown at the peeple tree. I and the other two were asked to guard the living body. No discussions. The tantric was furious. We sat to see the first glimpse of sunrays so that we could run away.
All of us sat gazing here and there when we glued to the same sight. At around 4, we saw a woman came walking to the Oleander tree to pluck flower. Even from distance we could see - she wore deep read saree was pregnant and had a flower basket in her hand.
Quite normal, isn’t?
It was almost, till she turned to us and vanished.
What?
She reappeared on the other side of the shrub, plucked flower and vanished again. We looked at each other, yes we all saw that.
We tried to wake up the old man, we jolted him, pushed him, punched him – but he was in trance.
Parallel on the story board the magik was on. She then disappeared and vanished for a moment and after few blinks all we could see her red saree behind the shrub.
“Someone please kill me, I can’t take this sight anymore.”
And she like continued her prank and was thoroughly enjoying.
It seemed as if the shrub was getting near to us and with it the frequency of her appearance and vanishing decreased. We could not even run. Where to run?
We could see her, see looked not more than 25-27, bulky body, I mean 5’5 was pregnant of at least 7 months. Her body language was of course meant to tease us – well this is how I can say it in parliamentary language.
But then something happened. Mr. Whosoever whispered in the ears of grand elf “Dada Chudail.”
He jumped up and sat as if he never slept. He too joined the show.
The woman again appeared at the right side of the shrub plucked some flowers and vanished. Reappeared on the left side. The old man got up, stood.
The woman vanished. Suddenly she reappeared at a distance from the tree towards the road, she was going. Our grand elf started running behind her as if he was just a 18 year old lad, shouting, “Isko pakdo, ye mujhe chaiye,” In his typical Bengali accent. We too like fools ran behind him without thinking what we were up to.
We saw her till she reached the corner of the road and finally vanished.
We reached there, saw a man milking his cow, and asked him did he see a woman – None.
Came back, the old man slept as he was dead since centuries. And the three of us – It was the same woman who was inside me, I tell you – No it was a Chudail – when would the sun rise???
© Shishir Kumar
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