It seemed like the bike had been having some trouble ever since I left Nanda's house. With the little knowledge I have, it felt like the fuel was running low. When the petrol drops below a certain level, the bike tends to jolt like this. But the problem was, the petrol pump was quite far.
There was a pump inside the Rasulpur market though. Let’s see if I can make it that far. The clock was ticking towards the end of the day. It was already four in the evening. I still had to visit Manju’s house in Raiganj. She had especially asked me in the morning to drop by.
The new bypass road was smooth and shining. The bike was gliding over it almost as if it was flying.
Once I passed Raban’s tea shop, I reached the Rasulpur crossing. The petrol pump was just to the right. Thank goodness, at least I could refuel here.
It was Rasulpur’s weekly market day.
Even though I felt like shopping, there was no time. I had to reach Raiganj quickly.
Since morning, the sky had been cloudy. It could start pouring any moment. I filled petrol worth five hundred rupees and was about to start the bike when I saw Manju’s father standing there with a bag full of groceries. There was a black mark on his neck. I asked, “Oh! Mr. Jha, are you waiting for a bus?”
— “Not really, I should get one soon. And you? Where are you coming from?”
— “You know my elder brother-in-law Nanda, right?”
— “Yes, of course.”
— “Today was his formal engagement. The girl and her mother are staying over at the in-laws’ tonight. They’ll return tomorrow. Can’t believe you came all the way here just to shop!”
— “Manju had asked for some Rita fish a few days ago. Believe me, I searched everywhere but couldn’t find it. Our neighborhood priest said it’s definitely available in the Rasulpur market. And he was right! Got some really nice, big ones.”
The conversation could’ve gone on, but I tried starting the bike again and faced the same jolting issue.
I told Mr. Jha, “Hop on, we can chat on the way. I’m heading to your house anyway. By the way, that black mark on your neck… was it from some injury?”
— “Oh don’t even ask. Got tangled in a clothesline. Barely escaped, really.”
As soon as he sat behind me, a cold breeze passed right through my body.
I said, “Quite a chill in the wind. Feels like it's raining somewhere.”
Mr. Jha nodded, “Hmm.”
Chatting away, we were on our way to the destination.
Near the Moroldanga Primary School, it started raining heavily. There wasn’t even a place to take shelter at the school. So we stood under a big gab (Indian plum) tree nearby, getting drenched and praying for the rain to stop. But there was no sign of it letting up, in fact, it got heavier.
I was shivering. Mr. Jha, however, stood silently, humming to himself.
Evening had descended. In the faint light, we could still see a bit around us.
I said, “We’ll have to set off even in this rain, Mr. Jha.”
— “If it’s not too much trouble for you, yes, it’s better we go.”
I wiped the helmet visor clean and started riding again. But now the headlight was acting up.
Unless I kept pressing the switch firmly, it would turn off. Somehow, I managed to reach the road through Sahapur’s sal forest. A little further was the Bhattadighi cremation ground. On that rough, bumpy road, it was difficult to keep pressing the switch. I told Mr. Jha, “Could you hold down this switch for me? It would help a lot.”
— “Yes, sure, no problem at all.”
He held the switch down with his slender thumb. It was pitch dark all around, interrupted only by flashes of lightning that illuminated burnt logs, torn mattresses, pillows, and skulls pulled out from the nearby graveyard.
My heart was pounding like a dying machine.
Mr. Jha sat behind me, completely silent.
— “Mr. Jha, are you scared?”
— “You just keep riding. No need to worry.”
Suddenly, a jackal darted in front of the bike. We nearly crashed and fell.
The rain was so intense that even the headlight couldn’t cut through the mist and water.
Through thunder and lightning, I rode carefully. In one bright flash, I noticed that although Mr. Jha was still pressing the switch, his fingers looked pale — almost like a skeleton’s hand.
With great difficulty, we got off the muddy path and onto the main road — the national highway. My luminous watch showed it was almost eight. Just ahead was the Kulik Forest. To the right of the bridge lay the Kulik crematorium. It was deathly silent all around. Power was out. The howling wind chilled me to the bone. Not a soul was in sight. A few stray dogs sat quietly by the roadside, soaked in rain.
As soon as we reached Mohanbati, the power came back. Thank God!
We entered the lane near Bidrohi More toward Manju’s house.
Almost there. No need for headlights anymore, Mr. Jha. You can stop holding the switch.
— “Alright.”
— “Hope I don’t catch a fever after getting so drenched.”
Mr. Jha tried to say something but coughed twice and said, “Brother, please drop me off here. I’ll take the way through Rajib’s house. Give the fish bag to Manju. I’ll be there shortly.”
I dropped him off and turned toward Manju’s house, taking the bend. The road here had very little lighting. Once I passed Colonel Nandi’s slippery driveway, I reached Manju’s gate.
I called out to her in the dim light, and a middle-aged man came out, her elder brother.
He called me in, “Come in, brother.”
The whole house was immersed in deep darkness. As I entered, I froze for a moment. Manju’s mother was wearing a white sari. Manju stood silently beside her.
I asked, “What’s going on, Manju?”
Manju burst into loud sobs. Manju’s elder brother said to me,
“Brother, yesterday after returning from the market, Father got into such a heated argument over cutting the fish that it escalated badly. After dinner, he said he was going to Rajib’s house and left. We thought he came back from Rajib’s and went to sleep in his room.”
“But as soon as morning came, Colonel Nandi gave us the news, and it felt like lightning struck us. We rushed over and found Father’s body hanging from the shirish tree.”
My whole body suddenly felt unbearably light. A strange fear started running through my very bones like electricity.
I said, “What! Brother was just with me on my bike, coming back from the Rasulpur market. He got down at the corner saying he’d go to Rajib’s house. He gave me the fish bag and asked me to hand it to Manju. When I went to the bike, the fish in the bag were still moving. Then that mark on his neck, was it a fresh sign of hanging?”
Even today, whenever I think of that incident, fear grips every hair on my body.
I don’t know if something like this has happened in anyone else’s life, but my encounter with a real ghost, I still can’t forget it. There’s no logical explanation that fits.