When Mr. Dibakar built the house on an empty plot surrounded by greenery, it was all open land. Now, it's nearly a concrete jungle. A beautiful house on three cottahs of land today, its value is enormous.
There’s hardly any open space left. Dibakar's son, Mr. Swapan, takes great care of the house in memory of his father. Mr. Swapan works an ordinary job at a private firm. As a result, two flats are rented out to two families. In this area, thanks to escaping the clutches of promoters, there are very few houses left, most are flats.
One day, a tenant asked, “Mr. Swapan, this is such a big house, and maintenance must be expensive. If you convert it into flats and sell them, you’ll make a huge profit!”
Swapan replied, “No. My father was never in favor of selling the house. Even in the worst of financial crises, he said, ‘I created this. I cannot sell my own child.’”
A few promoters also tried to convince Mr. Swapan in various ways, but he firmly rejected them every time. He even saw one of the promoters and a tenant chatting at a tea stall a few times.
Mr. Swapan's only son, Nil, is a student of Class IX. At his age, he’s already part of several science clubs and is quite rational-minded himself.
Suddenly, after a few days, they began hearing the sound of bricks falling on the roof in the middle of the night. But when they opened the door and went up to check, nothing could be seen.
One day, a tenant said, “Mr. Swapan, what’s going on here? Looks like ghosts have started throwing bricks! If this keeps up, we won’t be able to live here.”
As the problem continued to worsen, Mr. Swapan informed the local police station. The police assured him they would keep watch at night. After a few days, the police reported back, “No, we didn’t see anyone.”
Then the tenant family expressed concern, and Mr. Swapan said, “If you’re scared, you’re free to move elsewhere.”
As the issue escalated further, Nil said, “Baba, today I’ll try hiding on the roof to see for myself whether it’s the work of ghosts or people. Though I’m quite sure it’s being done deliberately.”
That night, Nil stayed awake until midnight but couldn’t find anyone. He returned.
At dawn, the brick-rain started again.
One day, Nikhil, a political worker from the neighborhood, came to Mr. Swapan and said,
“The room next to yours has been lying vacant since your father passed away. Why don’t you rent it out to Mr. Dulal? The house he’s currently living in is being torn down to make a flat. Once that’s done, he’ll vacate. I’m just asking for a small favor.”
Swapan couldn’t say no. The new tenant moved in.
Two or three days later, a new problem cropped up. From the common balcony out front, strange noises could be heard in the middle of the night. The kind of eerie voice people say ghosts have. His wife and son got really scared. Even Swapan was a little shaken.
One day, at a corner of the market, Nikhil pulled Swapan aside and said,
“Look, Swapan, you’re young. Maybe you don’t know, or no one told you, but you had a paternal aunt. After marriage, she came back home pregnant. Her in-laws had thrown her out. She couldn’t bear the humiliation and, tying a rope around her neck, hanged herself from the neem tree in your backyard with the baby in her womb.
Maybe your aunt Khuku’s restless spirit keeps coming back. She’s the one creating all this trouble.
You should arrange a grand Narayan Puja. That might help reduce it a little.” Swapan came back and told his wife and son everything.
His son said, “Let me see why this is happening.”
The next day, Nil hid on the balcony, waiting in silence. He heard the noises at night but couldn’t figure out where they were coming from.
Swapan said, “Nil, nothing is making sense. We can’t live with this nonsense going on.”
Then one day, while the tenants were away on a picnic, Nil noticed something under the roof, a small machine had been hidden. He realized that pre-recorded sounds were being played through a sound system remotely, using the open window. They were doing all this from inside the house, which is why no one was seen outside.
Nil quietly removed the sound box. That very night, the tenants realized the Swapan family had figured it all out. They paid the full month’s rent and left.
Mr. Swapan patted his son on the back and said,
“Well done, son. Your rational, scientific mind is what saved your father’s house.”