The Other Side: Dare To Visit Alone? Read online

  It was Faraaz's turn to doubt. “How do you explain that?”

  “This incident can be explained by a belief in 'NishirDaak' in rural Bengal. It is a byproduct of black magic done by someone who does not wish you good. If someone does that kind of sorcery on you, an

  apparition comes to call out your name after dusk. It always calls thrice. If you respond, you walk behind the apparition, never to be seen again. Sometimes the dead body of those who respond to 'NishirDaak' is found, sometimes it is not. If you do not reply even after three calls, the apparition goes away forever. Roughly translated, 'NishirDaak' means the call of the night in English,” Vivek narrated.

  “That is scary!”

  “Yes,” Vivek nodded. “Anyway, you tell me the second one.” Faraaz looked at the azure skies and tried to gather his thoughts,

  “The second incident also dates back to my schooldays. The Sewri Cemetery, Mumbai's largest Christian Cemetery, is very near to my house and opposite my school. The cemetery that has been renovated now is very organized and trimmed, but back then it was more like a large jungle where one could not even discern the path to walk between the graves. As both my parents used to work, an ayah was hired to collect me once I left school and drop me off at my grandparents' house which was a kilometer away.

  “One particular day, school closed early due to some reason I cannot remember now. It was an unannounced decision, so there was no way the ayah could have known about it. I walked over to a friend's house nearby. He used to live in a sloping chawl that ran in line with the stonewalls of the cemetery. When I went to his house, he wasn't at home and his mother told me he would be busy playing out. I searched for him in the afternoon sun after depositing my school bag at his place and found him loitering around the walls of the cemetery. After ten minutes of getting bored in the heat, Aaron suggested that we explore the cemetery. When I expressed my apprehensions, he assured me that he knew every nook and corner of the cemetery. We entered the cemetery through a small breach in the wall, just large enough for us to crawl through. Soon, we had ventured deep into the cemetery. After some time, Aaron came to an abrupt halt, looking around to his left and right. On prodding, he admitted that he could not remember the way back. To put it simply, we were lost. When I reminded him of his claim about knowing the place like the back of his hand, he sheepishly confessed that he had never ventured so deep into the cemetery. We panicked a bit as we tried to find our way out of the maze, retracing our steps and looking for familiar signs. We soon found ourselves standing beneath a cluster of really tall coconut trees and in the heat when I looked up, the coconuts hanging up seemed to resemble blood-dripping heads. I felt giddy and held on to Aaron for support, at the same time urging him to walk faster. We must have wandered around for well over an hour without finding our bearings or reaching the perimeter wall. We shouted now and then to find someone nearby who could help us but no one replied.

  “We were almost on the verge of tears when we saw a tall man dressed in a black priest-like cassock standing near one of the graves. If…”

  “Wait, are you telling me you saw a man dressed in black in the middle of nowhere?” Vivek's tone was incredulous.

  “Yes, and you'll have to take my word for it. Now, may I continue?”

  “Yes, I'm sorry I interrupted.”

  Faraaz went on. “If it wasn't for his cassock flapping in the wind, we could have well mistaken him for a statue and moved on. For one thing, he was almost marble black from head to toe and very still. In the back of my mind, a doubt crawled but I was too tired to even consider it. We ventured near. Aaron addressed him and asked for directions to the nearest exit politely. The man did not react. Aaron asked him again, may be a bit louder this time. The man just shifted his head, without moving his body from the position and looked at us with black bulgy eyes. For a moment, he regarded us and pointed towards an illdefined track in the front. 'Go straight and turn left!' the man said in a very heavy, sepulchral voice. We walked forward but I immediately stopped as I realised that we had forgotten to thank him in our hurry. As we turned around, we jumped out of our skins. There was nobody where the man had been standing!

  “The path around was clear and there was no way he could have hidden behind any bush or climbed a tree in such a short while. We promptly took to our heels and ran as fast as we could. Mid-way, Aaron stopped me again once he had acknowledged the fact that we were following his directions. He told me that it could be a trap and he could be waiting at the other end to devour us. But then we decided that if he meant to harm us, he could have done that when we had walked up to him. So we took the left turn further ahead and within five minutes we came out of the cemetery gates, the one near my grandparents' house,” Faraaz finished.

  “Intriguing! That was a benevolent spirit, I guess. Your story reminds me of an incident I witnessed as a kid. I did not think much about it at that time but maybe it can be explained on lines of paranormal activity.”

  Faraaz felt his interest pick up. “Tell me!”

  Vivek squinted at the horizon, the incident surfacing in his mind with surprising clarity.

  “A long time back when I was a small kid, I was loitering in the kitchen as Mom cooked. There were no gas cylinders those days and all cooking was done on coal-guzzling chulha's. Suddenly, I noticed that the cloth napkin she used to handle the hot utensils was moving around on its own. I called out to her and we both watched in fascination as it moved around on its own, almost like it was dancing to some unheard tune. I thought that a small sparrow had somehow got trapped under it. Mom was inclined to think it was a mouse. I tried to grab the cloth but Mom stopped me. She picked up a pair of tongs, caught the cloth and yanked at it. And there was absolutely nothing under it, not even a housefly. When she let it go, it dropped to the floor and lay lifeless, as if it had never being airborne. We puzzled over the incident and later forgot about it.”

  “There are so many unexplained things, dead-end mysteries in this world. And we, mere mortals, cannot fathom the depths of them!” Faraaz marveled.

  Vivek shut the prescription pad on which he had been scribbling as Faraaz talked. He placed it in his pocket, got up and said. “Let's find our way back to the hotel. We still have quite some distance to cover. It is getting late and it will be too dark to climb up soon. May be this conversation will lead to a story or two.”

  “Ah, a paranormal story?” Faraaz enquired.

  “Yes, why not? May be you could also write a couple,” Vivek suggested.

  “Sounds good, and then we co-author a book on the paranormal,” Faraaz said, laughing lightly.

  The Other Side

  25

  “That's not a bad idea. This trip might just give us the right kind of creative inspiration to pen it down,” Vivek said, feeling excited at the prospect.

  “This book will change the way people look at things around them and it will take the paranormal genre to an entirely different level in Indian writing,” Faraaz promised as he too got up and followed his soon to be co-author. They walked downhill towards distant Mussoorie mulling over all they had discussed.

  Vivek yawned, feeling sleepy after the heavy dinner that had just reached his tired stomach in the hotel room. He resisted the urge to sleep and reminded himself about his promise to write a thousand words daily. The quota for today was still pending.Teaming up with Faraaz had given him a sense of purpose towards the kind of stories they were planning. Suppressing a rising belch, Vivek booted his laptop and decided to type out the meticulous notes he had taken while Faraaz had narrated his experiences from the 'other side'. He pulled the small prescription pad out of his jacket pocket and put it on the table. Just then the light in his room flickered and went out, making it impossible to see anything. Vivek groaned but the laptop soon came to life on the reserve battery and through the white light; he stared in shock at the blank pad in his hand. It was as if the pad had never been written on!

  “Faraaz, Faraaz… come here, quick!” Vivek sho
uted to the young author in the next room. There was no response. Unable to restrain himself any further, Vivek felt his way outside and knocked at the door to Faraaz's room. When no reply came, he turned the knob of the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. As Vivek's eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the room, he peered around. What he then saw made him stagger back in shock and horror.

  Faraaz was on the bed, sitting wide-eyed. The torch in his hand lit up a figure sitting on the opposite end of the bed. Vivek wondered how the white sari was managing to flutter in the absence of a wind even as the figure turned to smile at him, showing her stained teeth.

  “Hear the tolling of the bells -

  Iron bells!

  What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night,

  How we shiver with affright

  At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats

  From the rust within their throats Is a groan.”

  —Edgar Allan Poe

  That Fateful Night

  D

  riving on bumpy unmade rural roads was never easy, especially during this hour of the night. But I knew I had to accelerate today, despite the cautious driver in me ringing safety warnings in my head. After what seemed like an hour, I finally managed to spot our little bungalow at a distance and heaved a sigh of relief. I parked the car, trying to make as little noise I could.

  As soon as I opened the door, she jumped into my arms. Her smell, from the delicious bunch of flowers in her hair hit me before her body and I floated on the marble, all weariness vanishing.

  “Doctorji, you are late! Forgetting your pretty wife on your first wedding anniversary isn't really going to earn you any brownie points from her,” she said, poking an accusing finger into my chest.

  “I'm really sorry, Lavanya. Whenever I thought about leaving the hospital, some patient would show up.” She kept glaring at me, so I continued, “From running noses to bleeding arses, I have seen it all today.”

  “Excuses, excuses and more excuses. You know, you should have been a lawyer, not a doctor,” she said, turning away in a huff.

  “Oh sweetheart, I really do apologize! I hope this will make up for it,” I said, pulling out the sparkling diamond pendant from my pocket and placing it on her slender neck.

  “Wow! Nikhil, this is beautiful!” she exclaimed, touching the shimmering stones.

  “It was made for a creation far more beautiful than itself.”

  “Nikhil, you liar…” she said, thumping me lightly on the chest, but smiling finally.

  “Where's mygift?”

  “The market was closed today. I'll get you something tomorrow,” she said pinching my nose.

  “Aww, doesn't matter. But surely you've prepared my favourite curd curry…”

  “Nikhil, you expect your wife to do the cooking even on our anniversary?”

  “I had thought about taking you out for dinner but…” “… but you came in late and all the plans went down the drain, isn't it?”

  Before her anger rose again, I stepped aside and walked towards the telephone.

  “Tell you what, we'll order pizzas from Pepper Hut!” I said, picking up the instrument.

  “Right! It's 11 in the night and your hut would have long been shut. And even if it hadn't, I can assure you no one would deliver to this God forsaken place,” she said.

  “And why would that be?”

  “Because we live in a damn remote area with no proper transport and facilities. Even the network bars in my cell phone hesitate to stand up here!” she was almost shouting now.

  “Now now, Lav, how many times have we discussed that? It's just a matter of a couple of months now. And then I can request for a new posting. I've even had a talk with Mr. Paranjpe…” I tried to soothe her.

  “You could have taken a leave today or come home early today. I so wanted to go somewhere with you,” she said, her hands flying to her eyes.

  “Lav, I'm really sorry. Alright, let me take you out for dinner now,” I said.

  “It's nearing midnight, Nikhil. Which place is going to serve us?” she asked, wiping her tears.

  “I know of this place, some two kilometers away from here. The other day Dr. Mathur was talking about the food at this dhaba where he had taken his family to…”

  “Dhaba?”

  “Yes, a small eating place on…”

  “Of course, I know what it means. Are you really going to take your wife to some stupid local dhaba on our first wedding anniversary?” Lavanya stared at me in obvious discontent.

  “The situation doesn't leave me with many options!”

  “And who's to be blamed?”

  “Lavanya!”

  “And this dhabaof yours, will it be open at this time?” “Dhabas are operational round the clock, especially the ones

  near the highways as they cater to travellers and truck drivers…” “Alright gyaanguru, it better be half as good as I am told,”

  Lavanya said, pulling my arm.

  We locked the house and sat in the small hatchback that I had

  thought would be useful to maneuver the roads here. Lavanya sat beside me, her mood perilously close to heating up again. I wanted to talk to her, flatter her like she so desired but I wasn't much good at this. Once in a while, I would try my best to be romantic but I failed at it miserably. Fearing that I would fuel the fire, I chose to keep mum and focus on the road ahead. I was sure once the food reached her stomach, she would forget the anger. I could bet on that, going by the ten years we had known each other for and the

  one-year that we'd been married.

  I inserted a disc of the latest songs in the car audio player. The

  soft slow beats reverberated in the car and soon created a pleasant

  feeling. Lavanya was looking out of the window to the left but I

  could see her head moving rhythmically with the tune. Feeling happy, I smiled and negotiated the rocks that the

  headlights shone on. It had been twenty minutes since we were

  driving and I figured that we should have been somewhere near the

  dhaba by now.Yet I could see nothing but desolate vegetation

  around. The only sound I could hear through the rolled down

  windows was the creaking of the nightjars. I felt uneasy, wondering

  about the decision to take a right turn a kilometer back. Lavanya

  sensed my unease and turned to check on me.

  “What happened?” she asked in concern.

  “I think we're on the wrong road,” I answered without looking

  her in the eye.

  “That's news!” she said in a sarcastic voice.

  “I'm sorry, I guess I should have taken a left earlier on,”

  I lamented.

  “Why don't you just call up Dr. Mathur and ask him for

  directions?” she suggested as if it was the most obvious thing to do. “It's midnight and I don't want to disturb him. Let's take a

  U-turn the moment we see a clearing big enough to reverse. It

  should take less than ten minutes to find our way back,” I said. “Nikhil!” she admonished.

  “I promise I'll call up Dr. Mathur if I am unable to find the

  turn,” I assured.

  Lavanya sighed and turned her head back to the window. I sped

  the car hoping to see a wider road. Around the same time, the

  disturbing feeling in my chest began to rise. I rolled down the

  window further sensing that something was not right. I checked

  the audio player that had gone blank and then I realised the night

  had become absolutely still, no sound reached my ears, even the

  nightjars had called it a night. Momentarily, I looked out of the

  window and from the gap between the trees, I saw a flash of white

  rush past.

  I gasped and braked suddenly and at the same time something

  banged against th
e side of the car. Lavanya screamed and pulled me

  back as a face emerged at the window. A very old, frail man stared

  back at us.

  “Sahib, save my wife or she'll die,” he said in a hardly

  audible voice.

  “Nikhil, drive… now!” Lavanya's shaky voice reached my ears

  but my hands refused to obey.

  “Sahib, save my wife or she'll die,” the man repeated. His expressions were difficult to comprehend in the dark but I

  noticed the plea in his voice and the doctor in me stirred. Clad in an

  ill-fitting white kurta and a torn dhoti, the old man folded his

  hands. Lavanya shrieked.

  “It's alright,” I tried to calm her down and then turned to the

  old man.

  “Sahib, save my wife or she'll die,” he said.

  “Where's your wife?”

  “Sahib, save my wife or she'll die.”

  “Nikhil, the guy's mad. Let's go please,” Lavanya whispered

  into my ear.

  “Sahib, save my wife or…”

  “Lavanya, I can't leave someone who requires medical

  attention. Tau, where's your wife?”

  “Sahib, save my wife or she'll die.”

  “I'm here to save your wife, Tau. Can you please take me to

  her?” I shouted over his rants.

  The old man seemed to calm down and it took sometime for

  him to register what I had said.

  “I'm a doctor and I'll try to treat your wife but that can only be

  done if you show me her whereabouts,” I reasoned.

  The old man nodded and walked away, beckoning me to

  follow him.

  “Tau, you sit in the car and show me the way,” I shouted but he

  didn't seem to listen.

  “Wow, what a romantic idea to spend your first anniversary!

  Treating some stranger in the middle of the jungle,” Lavanya

  taunted. I ignored her jibes. I would win her over later but right

  then, my concern was for a patient who needed me.

  I put the car in the first gear and followed the old man. He