Agartala, Tripura
How many of us truly believe in ghosts? Do ghosts really exist? Can their bodiless existence be sensed or realized?
Believers will say, “Yes, ghosts are real.” Non-believers will shake their heads and reply, “No, there’s no such thing as ghosts in this world.” To find an answer to whether ghosts exist or not, I set out for one of the most haunted places in India — Bhangar, located in Rajasthan’s Alwar district.
When we set out from Sariska by car, I saw dark clouds gathering across the sky. It was as though dusk had fallen in the middle of the afternoon. The rain hadn’t started yet, but there was an eerie stillness hanging over the Aravalli hills. The closer we got to Bhangar, the worse the weather became. Strong mountain winds began to blow, and the road was in poor condition. As we drove over the rough, uneven path, our car suddenly stopped; a problem within a problem, a flat tire. On that deserted road, we hurriedly replaced it with a spare and continued on our way.
By the time we passed Ajabgarh and reached Bhangar, heavy rain had begun to pour. It was so fierce that everything ahead turned blurry and indistinct. It became nearly impossible to drive further. Fortunately, we had all brought umbrellas. With no choice, we got out of the car and began walking toward the abandoned Bhangar palace in the rain. The greenery all around was soothing to the eyes, such lushness is rare in a desert state like Rajasthan. After walking a little further, I realized we weren’t alone. Drawn by the legend of haunted Bhangar, many other tourists had also come like us. Somewhere along the way, the rain stopped, unnoticed. Cool air blew around us. Amid the ruins and crumbling remains, we finally entered the Bhangar Fort.
On the way there, I had noticed that except for our car, no other vehicles were heading toward Bhangar. Instead, one after another, tourist cars were racing back in the opposite direction. It’s said that if you don’t leave Bhangar before nightfall, you’re doomed, no one wants to lose their life at the hands of ghosts. That’s why tourists are always in such a hurry to escape before sunset. But we had come for the opposite reason, to see ghosts and witness supernatural happenings for ourselves. Personally, I don’t believe in ghosts. Yet, despite my disbelief, I had heard so many strange tales about Bhangar that an irresistible curiosity had taken hold of me. And not just me, countless tourists share the same fascination about the ghosts of Bhangar. The matter has reached such a point that visitors from all over India and abroad flock to see “India’s Most Haunted Place” — Bhangar. So, to see everything firsthand, my friends and I came here ourselves.
Even in ruins, the architectural beauty of Bhangar Fort left us amazed. The intricate carvings etched into the stone made it feel as if an unknown past was whispering something to us. Could we ever truly understand the mysterious silent language of stone? But one thing was certain, built in 1570 during the reign of King Bhagwant Das, the breathtaking architecture of this fort stands as a testament to the incredible skill and deep artistic brilliance of the craftsmen of that era.
Inside the fort stood a Hanuman temple. I was surprised, there was a temple, but no idol of the deity in the sanctum. Had even God fled out of fear of ghosts?
Locals had told me that a tantrik (sorcerer) once wished to marry the princess of Bhangar. But the princess rejected his proposal. Enraged, the tantrik cursed the kingdom, and Bhangar was destroyed. The idols were removed from the temple soon after.
It is believed that after sunset, evil spirits become active inside the fort. Spending the night there is considered extremely unsafe. Around this mystery, Bhangar has gained a chilling reputation. The fear is further heightened by a notice board displayed at the main gate of the fort by the Archaeological Survey of India, which clearly warns:
“No visitor is allowed to stay inside the Bhangar Fort after sunset and before sunrise.”
The locals said that a few people once dared to stay inside at night, none were found the next morning.
Our local guide, Chandravat, told us that Bhangar is indeed considered a cursed place. But despite visiting countless times, he had never experienced anything truly supernatural that would prove the presence of ghosts. In his opinion, the authorities prohibit tourists from staying overnight only to protect them from wild animal attacks. I felt he was right, the fear of leopards or tigers is probably far greater than the fear of ghosts.
Leopards are not uncommon in this region, and it’s said that they sometimes attack nearby villages. Even tigers occasionally wander here in search of prey. It’s quite natural, after all, the Sariska Tiger Reserve lies right next to Bhangar.
Amid the backdrop of the Aravalli hills, the grand royal fort of Bhangar rose before us in its vast majesty. From Ghanshyam, the priest of the Someshwar Temple within the fort, we learned that wild animals often descend from the hills at night. He added that he lives inside the fort premises with his family.
The biggest problem, he said, is that there is still no electricity in the area, after dusk, everything is swallowed by darkness. Not only on new moon nights, but even on full moon nights, the “bodiless beings” are said to become active. The whole fort then fills with a strange, uneasy atmosphere.
Despite knowing all this, we decided to spend the night at Bhangar. After much pleading, Ghanshyamji arranged a place for us to stay. After all, when else would we get such a chance to find out whether ghosts truly exist?
After a simple meal, we all sat down on a stony patch of ground. With us were our guide Chandravat and priest Ghanshyamji. The rain clouds had cleared, revealing a mystical moon in the clean sky. It was a full moon night, and in the faint light, Bhangar seemed wrapped in mystery. In the dim glow, we could see monkeys jumping among the trees, shaking the branches.
Suddenly, a cold wind swept through. After a while, even that wind died down. Then came a deep, uncomfortable silence. Everything seemed frozen in stillness. From all around drifted strange, unearthly sounds. We sat still, tense, fear slowly crept into everyone’s hearts.
Chandravat said calmly, “There’s nothing to fear. Those sounds are just wild animals moving carefully and hunting.” His words reassured us. None of us, however, could sleep.
I asked Ghanshyamji why Bhangar is called a “cursed place.” He smiled and said, “Ah, that’s a story.” We all eagerly gathered around him to listen.
He began:
“Back then, Bhangar was a prosperous kingdom. The young princess Ratnavati, about eighteen years old, was famed far and wide for her beauty. Marriage proposals for her poured in from royal families across the land. But one day, an evil tantrik named Singhiya cast his lustful eyes upon her.
Though he knew it was impossible, the wicked sorcerer became obsessed with marrying the princess. He waited, scheming for an opportunity. One day, he got one. He saw Ratnavati’s maid in the local market. Earlier, he had made an enchanted oil, a potion that, if applied to one’s body or hair, would make the person fall under a spell…”
The enchanted Ratnavati would be forced to completely surrender herself to Singhiya. Through false temptations and threats, Singhia handed a small vial filled with oil to Ratnavati’s maid. Then, following the maid, he approached the royal palace.
But Ratnavati had already learned through a prophetic dream that she would be harmed by the sorcery of the tantric. Taking the vial from her maid, Ratnavati overturned it, pouring all the oil onto the floor.
The moment the enchanted oil touched the ground, it began to swell and solidify, turning into a large round stone. The massive boulder then fell precisely on Singhia, crushing him to death. But before dying, he cursed Ratnavati and all the inhabitants of Bhangar, declaring that they would all die untimely deaths, never be reborn, and remain forever as spirits within Bhangar.
By coincidence, the very next day a terrible war broke out between Ajabgarh and Bhangar. Bhangar lost the battle. In the onslaught by the army of Ajabgarh, Ratnavati was killed along with other members of the royal family. The rest of the inhabitants of Bhangar were also slaughtered by the victorious soldiers.
According to legend, the souls of Ratnavati and the people of Bhangar still wander through the abandoned royal palace. That’s why tourists are warned not to stay in Bhangar after sunset.
Ghanshyamji’s story came to an end. None of us could speak. We were all awestruck.
Night had grown deep. My friends had vowed that no one would sleep without seeing a ghost, that they would all stay awake through the night. But soon enough, everyone had fallen fast asleep. Chandravat and Ghanshyamji were already asleep. I alone was still awake.
Listening to Ghanshyamji’s tale of Bhangar had left my heart heavy with sadness. I felt pity for Ratnavati. I thought of how, through countless ages, women had been destroyed in the flames of men’s lust and greed, how many civilizations had been ruined. The pages of history bear witness to it all. Bhangar seemed to be just another fragment of that same history.
I must have drifted into deep thought, lost in the abyss of imagination, when suddenly I noticed a dense fog was spreading all around. The world was becoming hazy and indistinct. A strange, cold dizziness came over me. My body and mind were numbed.
Then I heard it, the soft tinkling sound of anklets. Someone was dancing. Enchanted, I stood up. As I took a few steps forward, I saw in the open courtyard, a young woman dancing gracefully, lost in her movements. Unable to restrain my curiosity, I moved closer.
In the dim light, I saw her face, she was extraordinarily beautiful. I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at her, utterly entranced. I had no sense of time or self. Suddenly, one of the silver anklets tied around her feet came loose and rolled towards me. I picked it up. The beautiful dancer smiled sweetly and extended her hand towards me. As I handed her the anklet, I asked softly, “Who are you? What is your name? Why are you dancing here, all alone, so late at night…?”
…And then rose the echo of a strange, unreal story.
At breakfast the next morning, someone teased, “So, you boys spent the whole night there?” Our friends just laughed it off, probably thinking it was all just silly fun. But I had woken up realizing that I had seen a strange dream.
The soft morning light fell across my face. I sat up. My friends were stretching and yawning awake. From the trees came the sweet chatter of birds. Morning had made Bhangar beautiful again, the fear that had gripped us was gone.
Where were the ghosts? Was all of Ghanshyamji’s story just an old legend?
Just then, Ghanshyamji’s aged mother, who must have been over eighty, asked us, “You all stayed inside the fort last night?”
We all answered together, “Yes.”
I was a little annoyed. What was she getting at?
Smiling faintly, she said, “Beta, if there had been a girl with you, you would have known whether all those stories about the fort are true or not.”
I stopped eating and looked at her in astonishment. Stammering, I asked, “Why? What would have happened if a woman had been with us? Are women not allowed to stay inside the fort at night?”
Without any expression, she simply replied, “Nothing, beta… I just said it.”
But I felt she had left something unsaid, as if she had hidden some secret truth.
While packing our bags, I suddenly noticed, lying on the stony floor, a small silver anklet. I froze. Picking it up, I examined it closely.
Our guide, Chandravat, laughed and said, “Tourists keep visiting Bhangar all the time. Many women wear anklets or bells on their feet. It must have fallen off from one of them.”
But as I held that gleaming little anklet in my hand, I wasn’t so sure.
We bid farewell to Bhangar and got into the car. It was time to head home. Our car sped along the winding roads through the silent Aravalli hills. My friends were singing at the top of their voices, delighted to have “proven” that ghosts don’t exist.
And I, I was lost in thought. Perhaps there are no spirits in this world. But shouldn’t a little touch of mystery still remain in our lives? If not for the haunted legend, I might never have come to see this abandoned fort. In fact, not just me or my friends, perhaps no one would have.
It’s because Bhangar is called haunted that it has earned a place on the tourist map today. Drawn by its eerie charm, travelers from across India and abroad come rushing here. In our laptop-driven, competition-obsessed lives, isn’t such an experience a rare delight?