(Photo source: pexels.com)
Disclaimer from the author: If you are reading it, I want to say that I write short stories rarely unlike painting. So, my writing may not be up to the mark. Personally, I do not believe in ghosts & witchcraft. This story is just a fiction. All is made up except the locations. Nothing else. Read it with an open mind. Above all, this story is dedicated to Bibhutibhusan Bandupadhya, a renowned writer. Below, there are two books which are not fiction. If you are a student , you can read them. (MS)
Now, read the story: The Night
Summer in
Guwahati is excruciating. The heat from the concrete jungle renders it
uninhabitable. That night, I waited for a shared cab near Basistha for quite
some time. The bus to Jorhat left at 9 p.m. All of the cabs departing from
Jalukbari were completely packed. I managed to hail a cab and board it. A
kind-hearted fellow traveller took pity on me and made room for me to sit. We
were at our destination in a matter of minutes. The time was 8.30 p.m. It was
still early. I headed to the boarding point with a heavy mountain backpack on
my back. It felt like a tonne of weight. When I got to the boarding point at
the end of the flyover, I found a good spot to keep an eye on the buses. The
buses came to a halt around this location. People would check for their bus and
then get up after they were confident that the bus number on their tickets was
correct.
The boarding
station was teeming with temporary businesses. They sold the minimal
necessities for a traveller: a pan, a cigarette, water bottles, and tea. Nobody
comes here expecting to have a good dining experience. You see worried-looking
boarders with a lot of luggage. Then there were the hawkers and ticket sellers
who roamed the streets in search of clients and boarders. Ticket sellers would
rush to every new face that appeared at the point, as if they were long-lost
cousins. Buses continued to arrive, and the police officer in command of the
area signalled them to go. The buses were unconcerned.
With each passing
minute, standing with a bag became more difficult. Even though the bus operator
said the bus would arrive at 8.30 p.m., I didn't believe them. It was necessary
to add 30 minutes. But one has to wonder, what if they were correct? It was a
game of faith. Anyway, I was perspiring tremendously. It was a scorching day,
around 30 degrees Celsius. The humidity level was also rather high. The bus
came at 9.05 p.m., and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it. I slumped on the solitary seat number 16. The
seat appeared to be comfy. The ticket checker arrived to confirm, and
everything was OK. When I tried to open the window, it adjusted to my
preferences. There was nothing to do but stare outside. A pair of hawkers
entered, carrying water bottles and fruits. After much haggling, some
passengers purchased some fruits. I went to get a bottle of water. That was the
end of it.
It took another 30 minutes for the bus to proceed. It then came to a
halt near an oil depot. It was on the Meghalaya side. The bus then travelled
slowly via Jorabat's serpentine route. Except for a few flickering lights
seeping out from the cabin, the lights were off and there was full darkness. After
a time, everyone turned off their phones and went to sleep. There was nothing
to see outside the window. I finally fell asleep after some struggle.
It was
Jakhalabandha when I awoke. The bus pulled over near a hotel. The property
appeared to be new. The stores were offering various snacks, biscuits, and
sweets, a common sight in Jakhalabandha. Passengers stop
here on their way home for a meal and refreshments. I dashed to the restroom to
freshen up. It was now time to have something. The servers carried several
thalis and served immediately. To keep things light, I grabbed a roti thali. The
headache that had been bothering me for some time had gone away after the late
meal. The bus came to a halt for 45 minutes and began honking. The last
passengers rushed in, terrified of missing the bus. I looked at my wristwatch,
which read 12.45 a.m. Jorhat may take another couple of hours to arrive. I
would reach as early as 3 p.m. because the bus was heading for Tinsukia. For a
while, the many thoughts kept me awake. I had no idea when I dozed asleep back
then.
It was Dergaon
when I awoke. Some people were getting off. On my watch, it was 2.25 a.m. I
made the decision not to sleep. Jorhat was nearby. We arrived at Baruah Chari
Ali around 3 a.m. There was quite a hubbub. Passengers from Jorhat were
attempting to flee with their luggage. I sat for a little longer to clear off. The
autowallahs were swarming around the bus entrance, looking for
passengers. By the time I got off, the autos had begun to go. Now I understood
why they were hurrying like crazy. When I looked around, all I saw were closed
stores with flickering lights. The chari ali appeared to be devoid of human
life in all directions.
After some
time, I grudgingly began heading towards J.B. College. The D.C. office was
gloomy next to J.B. College. I kept walking gently. On both sides of the road,
there were rows of eucalyptus trees. Some roadway lights were obscured by
overgrown tree branches. Taking a left at Devi Charan Chari Ali, I could see
the circuit house's massive floodlights. I turned to face the sentry post. Someone
was stationed at the post. His head protruded from the main desk, although it
was hidden. He may be perched on a low stool. I continued walking. My shoulder
was beginning to ache at this point. Then I came to the by-lane that led to
Jayabhawan Primary School. The entrance gate of the school was dimly lit by a
hundred power light. Beyond that, it was pitch black.
Suddenly, an
incident occurred to me. A good-hearted chowkidar used to work there back then.
Students adored him, but he became insane and returned to his rural home, never
to return. Some claimed he roamed at night at Rajmao pukhuri, directly across
the street from the school. He might have been possessed by an evil spirit. The
Ahom monarchs dug the pond a long time ago. Even during the day, the location
appeared forlorn, with all the trees surrounding it dating back centuries. Another
incidence caused me to permanently avoid that road. We knew someone who lived
close. He liked to go for a stroll in
the evening. He disappeared one day and never returned. The next day, the
police notified his family that his body had been discovered floating in the
pond in the morning. The corpse was discovered by villagers early in the
morning and reported to the neighbouring police station.
With all of my
thoughts, I arrived to the Dass & Co chari ali. Taking the right turn, I
could see the ASEB office as I passed Dass & Co retail store. For many
years, it was the highest structure in town. It has lost its original allure
and majesty. Streetlights were spaced far apart beyond this point. I
double-checked the watch. It was half past three o'clock in the morning. My
entire body was bathed in perspiration, and the air was motionless. I could see
the silhouette of the ancient simalu tree from a distance. The tree was old,
with roots dangling from the upper branches. It appeared to be there for ages. A derelict government home has been standing on the side of the tree for
years. The darkness added to the sense of a ghostly place. I could hear my
footsteps and the faint howling of jackals from afar. A few dogs were sleeping
in the vicinity of Hazarika's grocery shop. The dogs all raised their heads in
unison as they looked at me. My body was hit by a chilly stream. One of them
began to growl. Could they come after me? Should I run or not? There
had been reports of the dog attacking individuals late at night. Fortunately,
they did not break their coil and continued to stare at me as I moved carefully
passed them. That was a huge relief. One of my buddies had told me that this
place was haunted. People were frequently bothered by a ghostly lady in a white
saree. At the thought of it, I grew anxious and paced my feet . I
couldn't move much faster and tripped a couple times. The bag appeared to be
much heavier. My imagination began to run wild; what if the ghost had already
leaped over my shoulder? The notion made me break out in cold sweat on
my brow. My mouth had dried up. Then I noticed a light coming from the
Bongalpukhuri direction. A speedy car whizzed by in the blink of an eye. The
car was most likely attempting to catch a bus. The folks gave me a strange
look. It boosted my confidence, and I broke into a run to go to Jorhat
College. I turned around, huffing furiously. There was blackness as if something was staring at me. I went on for a few more minutes. My
adrenaline rush gradually subsided. The sun had begun to rise by the time I
arrived at Bongalpukhuri. It was early in the morning. People came out for
morning walks with a cane stick. Some were familiar.Then, it was a smooth walk from
here.
