The Long Lost

The Long Lost Returns Home

When Sameer had stepped out of his house on the fateful evening of 17th December, 1992, he had expected to be back in 30 minutes, max 40 minutes. He had to meet his friend Saurabh in the corner canteen. His excuse to his wife Malti was that Saurabh needed some advice and he would be right back. His real reason was that he was dying to smoke and because he had promised not to smoke at home or in the presence of his son Viru, he had no other choice but to step out of his house to get that much needed puff. Saurabh was his office buddy and even though he did not like Saurabh that much, he thought Saurabh was an insufferable fool, he had agreed immediately to his request for a quick meet over tea. Even now as he was hurrying towards the meeting point, his thoughts were already on the cigarette caught between his fingers, its bluish smoke curling up, burning his nostrils. He turned the corner and found that there was a huge wall of fog. He could not see anything at all. The fog had hidden everything, the buildings, the trees, the sky, even the ground. He panicked. He hated the fog. He had faced something really awful in the fog when he was a child and his father had found him terrified and petrified. His father would always make a joke out of anything. His getting lost in the fog was a cause of endless ribbing at the hands of his cousins and his friends and ever since he hated the fog. No one knew the awful truth about it and nobody would believe it either. While he stood there gaping, the fog swirled around him, enveloped him and took him away.

When Sameer did not come back even after one hour or so, Malti tried calling him. The phone buzzed on the TV cabinet. Sameer had not taken his phone with him. There were 11 missed calls from Saurabh. She redialed Saurabh's number, who picked it in one ring.

"Where the hell are you, man? I am frozen stiff here." Saurabh shouted at his phone.

When Malti explained that Sameer had left the house one hour ago, even Saurabh was surprised. The canteen was hardly 5 minutes walk but Sameer had not come to the shop. It was very foggy and very cold and Saurabh had frozen his backside there, waiting in the canteen for Sameer to arrive. But Sameer was nowhere to be seen.

After some calls to and fro from Malti to Vikram, a cousin of Sameer and between Vikram and Saurabh, Vikram came over from his place, some 10 kms away, driving dangerously in the fog (he could not see anything, he drove out of his instincts). Once there, he found Saurabh waiting for him. They went from the house to the canteen and back. But Sameer was nowhere to be seen. Vikram knew the story of how Sameer had managed to get lost in a fog when he was a kid. So he was the only one who believed that Sameer had managed to lose himself again and that he would be back soon or that he would call soon. But after 4 hours of waiting, Vikram, accompanied by Malti, lodged a police complaint about a missing person. The police men were courteous but it was so foggy that no search operation could be conducted. When Vikram and Malti came back, it was very late in night. But there had been no call from Sameer, no message from him, no sign of him coming back.

The search party arrived next morning. There were 3 policemen, Vikram, Malti, Viru (even though he was just 4 years old, they had brought him along, wrapped up in woolens), Malti's father, some neighbors and Saurabh. Initially the police had suspected that Saurabh was complicit in the crime but when on sustained interrogation, Saurabh stuck to his story and when the canteen helpers maintained that no one came to meet Saurabh, they had let him off the hook. Now to prove his innocence, Saurabh had joined the search party. They searched every nook and corner. They went around knocking at the doors, asking for any help, looking for any clue. Vikram even tried turning left instead of right and going in circles, but there was no sign at all of Sameer. He was gone, just like that and nobody had seen him. It was very strange. They were right in the middle of the city. How could someone manage to just vanish without a trace here? The search party was called off after 6 hours of marathon walking in the very severe cold.

"This winter season has been the coldest in the past 40 years or so" The police man had informed Vikram.

When they came back to the house, Viru kept asking about his father but no one had any answer. Malti had started crying and her mother was trying to console her. When Vikram asked gently if everything was all right with Sameer, whether he was happy with the marriage, Malti had got very annoyed. Vikram asked a question which the police man had asked him. Would Sameer have any reason of running away from home? It was very clear that no foul play had taken place. That led to the conclusion that Sameer had run away on his own. Was it because of financial issues? Was it due to marital stress? Was it something to do with any extramarital affair? There were so many questions but Malti had no answer to them.

And so one week passed. Sameer had not come back and there had been no news about him. The police were trying but there had been no progress. Life had to move on. Malti was asked to be strong and everyone kept asking her to forget the past and to move on. But could anyone move on just like that? No one understood Malti's pain or shared her confusion. Viru had cried himself hoarse about his father not being seen around. He was very close to his father and when his papa did not come back even after so many days, he had started rebelling. The whole house was in a mess. If Sameer had run away on his own, there was absolutely no question of his developing qualms and coming back. If the police could find him, then and only then they would be able to question him. If something untoward had happened to him, nothing could be done in any case.

Gradually one month passed. With Vikram's efforts, Malti got a job in a school. They moved out of that place from where Sameer had disappeared. Malti shifted to her parents house and tried to find some meaning to her life. She stopped asking questions. She stopped praying that Sameer would come back. She lost herself in her new job and with Viru, who had now become very obstinate and headstrong. But Viru was just a kid, he would forget Sameer in time. And with that hope, Malti went on with her life.

And one day, after 36 days to be exact, Sameer just walked back in their lives again. To be honest, it looked like he had seen incredible peace. He was unkempt, his saffron clothes were dirty due to travel, his beard had covered his face. But his eyes were twinkling and he was so much at peace. He had initially lied to them all that he had run away to become a "sadhu" and that explanation was good enough for the police to close the case and for other busybodies, the so-called well-wishers of the family. But Malti knew he was lying. Sameer had apologized profusely for his absence and Viru had been so happy to have him around that he did not get off his lap the entire day. He had found his father back and he was not letting him go this time. By the time all the calls were made and everyone had given their piece of mind to Sameer, it was late in the night. Viru had gone to sleep with his small leg over Sameer’s tummy and Sameer lay there with his eyes closed and with his right arm slung across his forehead. When Malti started weeping softly, Sameer got up, untangled himself from Viru and hugged her closely. They sat there silently, Malti weeping and Sameer just sitting there, holding her, not saying anything. Finally when Malti stopped weeping, Sameer told her this strange story.

When the fog hid everything from him and the stench of rotting flesh hit his nostrils, Sameer was instantaneously transported back to that day when he had lost his way in the fog when he was 11 years old. The terror that had paralyzed him that day sprang up from his belly and just like that hated day, incapacitated him again. He began whimpering. His nose went cold and he began gulping the cold air which started hurting his chest. He sat down right there on the road and relived his terror. Nobody had bothered to ask him about that day and in fact he himself thought that he must have imagined it so. But today was just like that day and the monstrous image came rushing to his mind. His head swum.

That December day, when he had turned 11 years old, he was at his uncle's place. It was a big house, they called it the "Haveli" and it was located just off the city's limits. Their grandfather had built this mansion away from the city because he had begun to abhor any human interactions. His father had told him about the lengths that his grandfather had taken to avoid talking to anyone, including his servants. The orders were hand written and kept in a tray and a bell would be rung. The butler would fetch the command from the tray, which was kept outside the door, and kept always locked. The food would be kept outside. The water bottles, the medicines, the clean clothes, everything was kept outside the door. No one could spy upon him. He would always find out and that erring servant would be fired. If it was Sameer's father or uncle who was snooping around, he would come out and beat them silly. After one such beating, they had sworn never to disturb him again. Soon both were sent to boarding schools and they were mighty glad about it, to be away from all that madness. They all saw him the day he died. When the food was not touched three times that day, the servants had broken the door and found him dead, all shriveled up and bony and not at all the frightening monster that everyone had assumed him to be.

The Haveli had vast grounds all around and every winter there would be fog all around. It was Sameer's first visit there in the winter month of December and he found it to be so pleasant, so beautiful that the first ten days were spent in exploring the mansion, then the grounds, then the forest on the north corner of the estate. He was always out, whether it was foggy or sunny and he was always happy. His cousins, Vikram and Chandan, were elder than him but they were nice to him and took care of him. That blasted day was again very foggy, so foggy that they could not see anything outside their windows. Chandan had been down with fever and Vikram had to complete his assignment. Schools were going to open in another week and Vikram would always postpone things till the very last minute. And so, it was all grown up Sameer who had walked out of the house, right in the arms of the fog. For some time he amused himself by checking on the nests of the birds in the different trees close to the house. While he was near the guava tree, he heard someone call out to him. It was more like a whisper. It seemed like someone called out to him from the forest. But it was foggy and he could not see anything. He strained his ears trying to catch any other sound. When he was convinced that there was no one, he turned towards the house and then again he heard his name. Sameer's first reaction was anger. He was not scared. Or maybe he was. The fear caused the anger. But he was angry and he wanted to find that person who was teasing him, trying to scare him. And so he stomped his way towards the jungle. He had taken some 30 steps forwards when the fog had swirled towards him. It was like an animal jumping at him, hidden from his view because of the fog and now finding him all vulnerable, it had risen and lunged at him. The fog overwhelmed him and the stench overpowered him. Sameer had never smelt anything like that. The only smell that came close to it was the stench coming from a dead body of mice. It was horrible and Sameer was left retching. He was paralyzed with fear. Only when he had felt someone touching his head, that he had let out a loud yell. The yell had momentarily loosened the grip of the nameless, faceless enemy and Sameer had started running. He was certain that in another two minutes, he would be near the guava tree. But even after five minutes, when he did not see the tree, he had turned left and kept running. He was now running directionless, nevertheless running and shouting at the top of his voice. Whatever it was that had called out to him and that had touched him was behind him now and he was gaining distance. For Sameer could smell that stench and he could figure it out that the smell was falling behind, he had overtaken it, he was free from it. He had kept running till the time his toe crashed against a stone and he was sent sprawling on the ground. He waited for that entity to touch him again. But nothing happened. He was still whimpering and crying when he was pulled up from the ground. It was his father who had come out to find him. There were other people looking for him too and they all came rushing towards him. Sameer wanted to tell them about that thing in the fog but he was scared that they would not believe him. And so he had lived with the constant ribbing of how he lost his way in a fog just outside the Haveli and how he was so near to the house but instead of walking towards the house, he was weeping like a sissy. He could never bring up the courage to step out again and he had been very glad when he had left for the city with his parents. The only question that he could never solve was how did that thing learn of his name.

And now after all these years, he had walked into the fog once again and once again that overpowering stench of rotten flesh had hit his nostrils. He was still whimpering with his head down when he felt someone touch his hair. His neck whiskers rose in fright. He was so scared that he could not even lift his head to look behind. This time that entity spoke :

"Sameer beta, why so scared?"

It was a whisper, the fog carrying the message to his ears. How did this entity know his name?

"who, who, who" that's all Sameer could manage to speak.

"You can't look at me. I had a face long time back, a body too. Now I have nothing. I had a name too. Come to think of it, what was it? Oh yes !!! Narasimhan Prasad. do you remember this name?"

Sameer's head automatically shook a no.

"You don't recognize your grandfather. Has no one spoken of me?" Was there regret in that voice?

This time Sameer was so surprised that he turned around. He saw only fog and the smell doubled him up.

"Ha !! So you recognize the name, beta. Good, good !!!"

When Sameer was able to look up, he again saw empty air, just the fog. But the voice was more powerful now. It was still whispering but the words were being delivered with a power.

"Do you know what happened to me? No, you don't know. So sad."

Sameer could just stare at the fog speechlessly.

"Let me go back some years. Your father had not even married. Heck, he was still in school. I was very much annoyed with my fellow human beings. I saw them as parasites. In fact, the truth is I hated them. I had disliked them even when I was young. But by the time I had grown old, I began hating them so badly that I could not bring myself to even speak with them. I hated the world and the world hated me. I did not want to look at any human being, not even my own sons. They were like other humans too. Always greedy, always looking to hurt others, always hoarding, always eating, always stealing. "

The words were furious now, they were being spat out.

"I hated them so much that I stopped going out, stopped meeting other people, stopped reading books, paper, magazines. I loved walking so I would walk only in foggy weather. The fog would hide me, give me a place to be outside yet not feel violated by other people's gaze. Very rarely I would see other people and it would always be easier to skirt them, to be on my own, to be all alone. I would be happy only when I would be enveloped by the cold foggy clouds. They gave me solace, they comforted me. Gradually I grew old. I could hardly move. But when it would be winter time, there would be fog and there would be me, walking in it, soaking in it. Then that awful year came. I was falling sick every now and then. I could hardly move. I could not even eat properly. But I kept everyone at bay. I would keep the door locked and everyone else locked out. One cold day, I was so sick I could hardly get out of the bed. I lay there on my cot, looking outside the window where the pale sun light was trying to warm some birds. As I looked on, the clouds came on, there was a light drizzle and when the rain stopped, I had a smile on my face. I knew the fog would be arriving soon and I had to be ready to welcome my friend. That evening was dark and moist. From my cot, I could see the fog coming in, walking so gracefully that no one could hear her steps, no one except me. I had waited for it for so many days and finally it was here. I got up, I don't know how I managed, but I dressed myself and went out to meet it, to bathe in it. I was so happy that evening. I did not see anyone, only some birds and some animals. When I walked back after the long walk, it was very late in night and all the lights were out in the house. I had a side door through which I used to go out for walks. When I reached that door, that night, I found the door locked from inside. Someone had sneaked in my room and had bolted the door from inside. A mindless rage filled in me. I tried to kick the door open when to my utter surprise I found myself inside the room. I had floated inside the room, through that door !!!!! And who do I see on the cot? It was my dead body, all shriveled up. My hated human body lay there, like a discarded piece of equipment and I marveled at myself. I now had time to examine myself and I found that I was made up of fog, small spider like gossamer webs held my body together. I tried to look myself in the mirror and all that I saw was a swirling foggy cloud. Oh, I was so happy!"

The entity paused for some time now while Sameer continued staring in the fog, like he was in some sort of trance.

"Was I dead? I no longer cared. I had no need for any food, any dress. In short, any kind of dependency that I had on this world had been cast off. For so many days, I was so happy. I walked along with the fog. I visited so many places, always hidden by the fog. For a long time I believed that I was the only one in it. Then I found others in it. There were so many of us there, but all of us shared one common thing. We all hated the world, we all hated company. In short, it was a great time. Over a period of time, I learnt some rules. I found that someone inside the fog could speak to his blood descendants only. He could not approach anyone else. I had no desire to speak with anyone. This would have continued endlessly but some years back, I realized that even though I did not have a body and I did not need food, I needed energy. Slowly and steadily, my energy had trickled away, maybe this god awful fog took it away, but I had lost it all and that severely impacted my movement. I had no strength left. I had to be dependent upon the wind. It took me hither and thither and I could just be flung, from one place to another. This was not how I wanted it to be. I had become a shell, an empty shell. Worse, I could not even die. I closed my eyes and let the wind throw me around. The others had told me that I could suck the life force out of living things to get the energy. But I could not do it. I was able to grab some energy out of things that died in the fog. Their spent life force can be grabbed. I kept hoarding it. I had myself become a hoarder, a thief, worse than a thief. It is the battle for survival that make some people lose their moral turpitude. I could sympathize with them now. But it was too late in the day.”

“One fine day, I realized that I had again reached my home. I was again on those slopes. I was among the trees in the forest. And I was again filled with happiness. That euphoric homecoming feeling gave me strength. The wind could not knock me around. Oh, how it howled!  I had no idea of time, of what year it was. But there, hidden in the fog, I saw you. You resembled my elder son. I did not know who you were, but I knew that I was looking at my descendant. I felt so guilty at that time, so full of remorse. I had not even spent proper time with my sons. And now even if I wanted to, I could not. That regret prompted me to hang around you but at a distance. I heard the other boys speak out your name. I learnt your name, I wanted to be with you. I wanted to play with you, to be a part of your life. I wanted to love you, I wanted you to love me."

Here the voice trailed off again. There was complete silence. Sameer just sat there.

"Oh, how I wished I would have been sensible back then. I could have done something, now I could not do anything. I tried approaching you. But the moment I touched you, I carried you to my cursed world of fog. This fog is a greedy one. It wanted to consume you too. I was so scared that I had done something wrong, something irreparable, that I had carried you over here and now you would not be able to leave this goddamned place. The regret tore me apart. I ran away from you, trying to get away from you, hoping and praying that the fog spare you. From a distance, I saw that your father had found you and that you were safe, that you were with people who loved you and cared for you. Their love had pierced the haze. The power of love had scattered the fog away. Standing over there, feeling unloved, unwanted, I must tell you I felt like a very ungrateful swine at that time. What would my sons think of me? What would they tell their children about me? I cursed at everything that day. The wind laughed at my face, like it was telling me that this was all I had wished for and that I should just shut up. I did not see you after that. When the fog cleared, I tried very hard to stay there in the forest, hidden in the shadows, near my house. But I could not hang behind. I had no strength left to fight the fog and it took me along with it. For so many years, I have been led through ravines, caves, cities, villages, rivers, seas. I have seen others hidden inside the fog. Some of them are still unrepentant. But most of us admit we made a huge mistake and we are sorry to be in this state, but powerless to do anything. I was just along moving in this part of the world, hopeless, bored to death, full of regret, when I saw your son. He resembled his grandfather a lot and I knew that my salvation was at hand. I hung around, it took me so much effort but I waited. And today finally I have found you."

It went silent again while Sameer just sat there blank. He had been listening very carefully at what this entity, his grand father, was speaking but there were no reactions at all from him. He was shocked but not scared anymore, like he believed that this entity did not want to hurt him.

Finally the voice picked up again.

"I don't have much strength now. The wind would take me along with it. You have a lot of energy in you. Look, they have all come, to feast upon you, to steal your life force. Stay away from him, you lot !!! Stay away."

Sameer could see some shimmering shadows in the fog but the words and the way the stench intensified made it very clear to him that he had unwanted company. He stood up and asked

"How can I fight them?"

"Atta boy, Sameer. You have indeed inherited our fighting genes. You have to block them away. They will scare you, but you can block them away."

Sameer thought for half a second and felt that he really did not know how to go about blocking these entities.

He addressed his grandpa again

"Can we move along? Will that be helpful?"

The voice was now hissing.

"You will have to run, boy. Start running now.”

Sameer felt that he was being suffocated with all the dead, rotting flesh enveloping him. But his grandpa had pulled his left hand, so he took off in that direction. He kept running and after some time realized that he was not getting out of breath. He had left those interlopers behind and it was only his grandpa who was with him. This was exhilarating. He could jump above smaller trees. He was even able to walk over a river. Then on the other bank, he stopped and waited. His grandpa had slipped out of his hand, so he did not know where he was and exactly what was he supposed to do here. Then the stench started coming closer. Who was it who was coming towards him? Was it his grandpa? Or was it someone else? He called out to that thing. He heard the very satisfying reply of his grandfather. The voice was very hollow now, like all the strength had been sapped. He waited for him to come closer.

Sameer asked him “How can I help you? Do you know of any way?”

The entity did not reply immediately. Then he heard the whisper.

“Temple ahead. Get help there” And there was silence. Sameer would have waited longer but then he felt that his hand was pulled urgently.

“Run”

Sameer did not wait now. He hoped that his grandpa would not lose his grip this time and he ran again. He kept running over hills, through forests, over a very wide river(it could have been a sea, it was so big), through villages dotted along a river bank. Finally he was in the mountains, with less and less vegetation around him. When he stopped, he was on top of a mountain, but the view was hidden by the clouds or was it the fog hiding him from the world. He stood there waiting for direction from his grandpa. Some time elapsed (minutes or hours, who knows), when finally the answer came. He was led to a cave.

“Do I go in?”

No answer came. It was like his grandpa could not speak again till the time he got his strength back.

After pausing for some time, Sameer walked in the cave. It was dark inside but Sameer could still see. Wherever he would walk, a thin cloud of fog would spread around him which would create a twilight kind of ambience around him. He saw that he was walking over scorpions but they were not harmed, just agitated. The more he walked in, the more cave shrunk, so that in the end, he was crawling on his arms and legs. After crawling for some time, he reached the very end of the cave. He paused for some time there and then he heard something beyond the cave wall. Surprised by that sound, he pushed his hand out and immediately the wall gave in. He saw that the cave had opened up in a big crater. It was a hollow mountain. And there was a Shiva temple right there in the center of the crater. He could look at the Shivalinga from where he was. How beautiful it looked. So serene, so silent, so peaceful. He tried to move forwards but his whole body started burning. Alarmed, he stepped back and the pain subsided. Confused, he stood there. Then the voice whispered again.

“That is how I can get salvation. You need to go through it, beta. I will tag along with you. Once I am there, I get another chance. Please, beta”

Sameer was stunned. Was it really his grandpa? He had been told that his grandfather was a very proud man. He never begged for anything and he would not apologize for anything. His tongue was acidic and many people have been whipped by it. Could he really beg him to do this? While he stood there debating over the next course of action, he heard a loud roar in his head

“Who is there? Don’t you know you cannot bring those things here?”

Alarmed, Sameer turned around but he did not see anyone.

The loud voice again demanded of him.

“Don’t you know those are evil things? That it is their lot to suffer there, forever and ever.”

Sameer mustered up some courage and answered
“But what if someone wants to be forgiven? Should we not forgive them for their mistakes?”

“Fool, who do you think you are to forgive? In any case, I have had enough of your insolence. Try breaking that barrier again and you will be destroyed. So will be that fool who is riding on your back”

And all the voices went silent. It was the moment of truth for Sameer. He could always back off. He knew that his love for his family would be more than enough to help him get out of the fog. But he could not leave his grandpa in this state. He thought of his father and his kind, loving ways. His father had loved him a lot. Maybe the coldness and aloofness from his father had prompted him to become something different than his father. His uncle had followed in the steps of his own father. He had been strict, aloof, uncaring. But Sameer’s father had loved him and given him fond memories of childhood. That was why Sameer loved his son so much. Surely his grandpa should get another chance, the thought kept racing in his mind and Sameer moved ahead again. The pain rocked his body, his skin started peeling away. He began to lose consciousness but even in that pain, even in that state, he kept his focus on that Shivalinga that he could see now. He was now on the steps of the temple, every step was like a stab in the body, and each movement hurt him. But he kept on dragging his body and then fell down on the very top step of the temple. He had not crossed the threshold. He lay there burning for God only knows how much time but all the sense of time and space had left him. Finally someone helped him. His strong arms helped him cross the threshold when finally he had collapsed with the name of Shiva on his lips.

When he came around, he was being treated for his wounds. He was alive. He had been burnt very badly but he was still alive. His questions were answered by the head priest. It was he who had thundered in his head, warning him to go back. It was he who had helped him on the stairs. It was he who was treating him. He was an old priest, with a flowing white beard and yellow cloth wrapped around his body and his eyes twinkling. His answers were very brief and Sameer did not recall much as he used to sleep a lot due to the medication. To his query about his grandpa, he was told that his grandpa had crossed the barrier and had been sent to a place to make a fresh beginning. One day Sameer realized that he was being carried on a cot. There were some young priests who carried him all the way down to a village where they left him and went back. Sameer was taken to a ramshackle hospital in the village and after some days he was declared fit by the local doctor. He was given train tickets to go to Delhi and he was handed some food prepared by the village people. They were very friendly and helpful but they never questioned him or answered any question about that temple in that cave or about the priests over there. On the day of journey, he was taken to the railway station on a bullock cart. When he boarded the train, the village headsman requested him not to tell anyone about this experience. In any case, the village was going to move on again so that even if some people would come enquiring, they would not find anyone. During the journey, he had bought a newspaper which brought him back to reality. It had been close to one month of his disappearance. He looked at his clothes and crafted a story of how he ran away to try out the life of a “sadhu” but after one month of penance, he had run back to his home. He knew that his actual experience would not be believed by anyone. But he still shared it with Malti because he knew she would believe him.

When he finally stopped speaking, he was very tired. Sensing this, Malti whispered in his ears.

“You are not alone. We are with you, we will be with you, all the way.”

Sameer smiled with his eyes closed.

girl on stairs

The girl on the stairs

The darned night began on a very bright note. There was a party going on in the MBA building. The ground floor was choc-a-bloc with students, faculty members and freeloaders, hobnobbing with each other, treading on each others toes, generally making a lot of din. I always found myself wanting on such occasions. I really hated shouting while talking and there was so much noise hitting you, music, loud voices, shrieks, hoots that by and by it started getting on my nerves, so after saying some hellos and grabbing a beer bottle, I headed outside in the cold to light up and to soak in the cold. I loved solitude and the sound of crickets and the gentle rustling of leaves was what my heart craved. I am not a loner but every now and then I crave for silence and woe betide me if I can't get it.

Anyways while I was smoking outside, just standing outside the main gate, the door cutting off the noise, I spotted another person. It was a girl who was dressed very outlandishly. She was wearing an evening gown and she was looking so pretty walking on the grass, while the moonlight bathed everything in its pale yellowish light. I was transfixed by her, somehow the scene captivated me.  And then suddenly she caught me staring at her and walked towards me. Initially I had assumed she was a student, but when she came closer, I could not place her so I assumed she was a student of Grande Ecole and I felt a mild trepidation. Those students would always speak in French and my French was atrocious. Anyways when she came near me, I called out "Bon Jour" and got a "Good Evening" as a reply. So she could speak English and my life just got easier.

We started chatting and she even took one cigarette from me. To all my questions about her, the only things that I could learn were that she was from England and she was a visitor over here. She had absolutely loved the campus. The school had such a beautiful campus that anyone would fall in love with it and she had been roaming around. Then she made a very unusual request. Could we head down to the lake? The lake was some distance away from MBA building, you had to go down the stairs and then you reach a wide expanse of land which had the lake on its north end while the land on the south end and on the west end were leveled out for our playing area. There was a woods on the north end which gave company to the lake as it receded farther and farther away from the stairs on the hillock. It would be a beautiful sight indeed with the full moon shining above and complete silence all around us. But I hesitated. It was getting late. I had to go back to my room and finish up my assignments. But she was beautiful and it was a full moon night. And for some reason I did not want this moment to end. And despite all my forebodings, I said yes and we headed towards the stairs.

Her name was Angela, I could not comprehend the last name and I let it go. We made decent speed and while on the way we discussed some inane matters like weather in this time here and the general environment at the school and I made some remarks about the people and their idiosyncrasies and she laughed at my poor jokes. And so before I knew it, we were near the stairs and then we went down very swiftly. The thing with the stairs was that you could always run down them but when you had to climb up, it almost always knocked the sails off your winds. I always found it very very tiring to climb them but then when you have company, you simply do not care for such things. While going down, Angela made some remarks about the patience of trees, how they stood rooted at the same place year after year but still did not complain or did not let it affect their nature. I seriously thought that something was wrong with her head and then attributed the same to evening refreshments. Perhaps she had something strong and it had begun to affect her thinking. The wind was getting stronger now and it was almost a struggle when we finally reached the lake.

Just as I had imagined, the sight of the lake was fantastic. The moonlight all over it gave it a pale look and the wind was making ripples over it which caused the moonlight to break in million small pieces of glass so that it looked like the whole lake had gone yellow. I was so awe struck by it that I did not even notice that Angela had kept moving on and when she called out to me I found her waving at me from near the trees. The lake spread to the north and the woods started after the running tracks. The woods was unkempt and students generally kept away from it. But Angela was almost in the woods now and she turned back and called out to me. I really did not want to go in to the woods, not in the night time. Who knew what kind of creatures roamed in there? But when Angela disappeared amidst the trees, I had to follow her. Chivalry? I don't know, something made me go after her. And so it started, the game of hide and seek, with Angela moving faster and faster and I losing her sight and then regaining it fleetingly and then rushing after her to realize that she had gone hiding again. After some time of such rapid, random walk, I was furious with Angela. I was scared too but the anger masked the fear. And then I found her standing still near some trees.

I had to give her a piece of my mind. When I reached near her, I shouted at her to stop being such an idiot and told her that I was heading back to the Expansiel and if she was not following me back, she could go to hell. She did not protest and she did not even talk back. What she did was that she grabbed my left arm and gently pulled me around so that I saw what she was looking at before I came upon her. It was a door, more like a postern, small wooden door. Where did this lead? What was going on?

"I have been waiting for this for a long time. Please help me."

And then she touched my forehead with her palm. It was cold, very cold. That's all I can remember. I must have lost consciousness then and there because when I woke up a little later, I was still sprawled there, right in front of that wooden door, in the woods. The grass was soft and dewy. It looked like a storm was coming. I got up and realized that I had a terrible headache. My head throbbed and my eyes saw stars everywhere. After a few moments, I started seeing properly and realized that Angela was nowhere to be seen. Where was Angela? I could not see her around me. Then I saw that the wooden door was ajar. It was hidden in such a manner that the wind was not causing it to swing but the door was ajar. Did she go right in? I would not have gone in the door for it looked foreboding, but it started raining and the water droplets were big and it was cold, very cold. Despite my trepidations, I had to step in through that door.

It was dark inside but quite spacious although it smelled funny, a kind of musty smell from a place which had been locked up and left locked for too long. The first reaction was a violent retching. I would have thrown up due to the stench but the feeling soon passed and I was able to stand in there. It was very dark in side. There was no light inside the space. I heard a strange scraping sound from deep recesses and I felt a slow cold terror shooting up my spine. I was petrified, I had never been so afraid all my life. Where was I? What was there inside? Was it an animal? Was it wild? Where was Angela? A thunder was rolling up in the heavens and the rain had intensified. I would wait for the rain to ease off and then I would head back. I had no idea of Angela's whereabouts and I did not care anymore. What kind of game was this?

While I was thinking about it all, the whole experience appeared really to be a waste of time and I was cursing myself to get entangled in this affair, I heard some sound coming from real far away, a kind of repetitive sound, like someone was repeating one thing again and again. Was it Angela? Was she crying for help? I moved a little ahead and stumbled badly.

Stairs!!! There were stone stairs leading down somewhere. And exactly at this moment, a lighting flash lighted up the sky and in that fleeting moment of luminance, I noticed many things. First that I was not in a cavern or a room. I had seen the sky lighted up in the pink and white psychedelic show. And I saw a winding stairs going down first and then leading up towards surface. And in the next flash I saw something unmoving in the middle of the stairs, a little distance away from me. Was it Angela? Why was she not moving? She might have been running up and then maybe she met some accident. My logical mind shrieked at me to stop this nonsense. How could I know that it was indeed Angela? But a voice inside me told me to go over there and to check it. I am tired of this voice. I thought I would never hear this voice again. When I was a child, I would hear this voice forcing me to do the right thing. When I had broken the favorite vase and my parents had suspected my sister of that crime, this same voice had made me crazy till I had owned up to it and got the punishment for it. I hated this voice. Every time it would speak up, it would keep on repeating the message till the time I gave in and did what was expected of me. Like all those time when my friends decided to bunk school and go for a movie, the voice drilled in me that it was a wrong thing to do. And so my friends watched the latest movie on the first day of its release and I was in the classroom taking notes. The same notes were copied by my friends at the end of the day. I had felt like such a wimp. That night I railed at it and asked it to shut up forever. The voice of my conscience can shut up and let me commit mistakes. It had remained silent for so long and at this precise moment, it spoke again. I knew from previous experience that there was no respite from it. I had to do it.

My first steps were in complete darkness. I could not see anything at all, I was stumbling across the steps. They were made of stones. Who had hewn them? They were old and they were crumbling or perhaps eroded by the wind. Most of them had one or two spots intact where you could put your shoes on and some of them had nothing at all on them, just the dust, so that when you put your foot on it, it would sink a little in the dust. It would have been difficult if there would have been light. But in near darkness, the task became herculean. The lightning flashes kept guiding me but most of the time it was just instinct. I groped all the way down grabbing the wall and even if I stumbled or if my shoes sank so much to throw me off balance, I would find something to break my fall down. Finally and very soon I reached the very last step, still in one piece and without any injuries. I must state here that there was a moment on my descent when I realized I was floating on air. The sensation had made me almost pop out my heart. But I had made it to the very last step and now I was going up one step at a time. I must have some 10 steps when I stumbled on something. It was not a stone. It was a body. I had found Angela!

Why was she not moving? Did she twist her ankle? I checked her and found that she was alive. She was repeating something very feebly. It was being repeated very softly so that I had to almost bring my ears to her lips when I heard the cry:

“Help me”.

She kept repeating it again and again. It was very dark there and when I tried to make her sit, I felt some jelly like thing on her face. It clung to my palm and started burning it. I tried wiping it on my jeans but it would not come out. When Angela grabbed my hand, I discovered that jelly like thing had spread over her hand and it must have been very painful for her. She was unable to move and was lying there, breathing with difficulty. I had to help her and the only way out of this mess was up. I tried hauling her on her feet but her legs gave in and she crumpled on the stairs. I had not expected her to buckle and her weight on my arms forced me to kneel too. Immediately I felt something stick to my knee which went right through the jeans and which stung my skin. That gooey thing was all around us, we were positively ankle deep in it. I tried carrying her in my arms and found that either she had passed out or was in so much pain that no sound came from her. I kept my right foot on the next step and forced myself to go up and somehow, probably because weight was not properly distributed, I put too much weight on the right ankle and twisted it badly. I lurched towards the wall and leaned on it, trying to get back my breath. I felt that something was oozing from the wall and it went right through my jacket and my shirt and which started hurting my back. It was stinging like hell. I almost felt like I was being burnt alive by some kind of chemical. There was no looking back now. Every step was more painful than the previous one. With every breath, my body would stung anew. Somehow I kept dragging myself up. The rain had ceased off and I could feel the cool fresh rain laden air on my face and that gave me hope. I could now see the opening ahead, I could now see the end of stairs approaching. After a really long period of time, I managed to get on the very last step, pushed Angela over the edge and dragged myself up. I could no longer bear the pain. I kept on gulping air while I lay on my back while it looked like my bdoy burned with fever. The whole world was swimming and there was an awful humming sound in my ears. I closed my eyes and the sound slowly ebbed and then finally went away.

I opened my eyes and found that the world had stopped swimming but I could still feel the pain, from my hands, arms, chest, back, legs. I forced myself to look at my hands. They had turned black, like the chemical had burnt my skin to cinders. I was so preoccupied with all this that I did not realize that there was a welcome party for us. There were three persons who were helping Angela stand up. The gentleman looked at me and lumbered towards me, smiling with his hands outstretched. There were two ladies with Angela who were all smiling at me. The gentleman grabbed my hand and I winced but he did not take any notice of it all and kept thanking me repeatedly. He helped me on my feet and then asked me to accompany him for a walk down the woods. Either my body had come to terms with the pain or the effect of the chemical was wearing off, but I could not only stand up properly, I was able to walk too. I had one last fleeting glimpse of Angela leaving with the ladies while the gentleman walked with me the other way. His choice of words was quaint, very old kind of English, which made it very difficult for me to converse with me. He kept a decent pace and he was saying something when my ears suddenly started aching, sort of like what you experience when the plane you are in makes a descent for touch down. The pain was so terrible that I had to close my eyes and after some seconds when the pain was bearable, I opened my eyes and I found that the gentleman was not around. Did he keep walking without looking back at me? I limped that way for some more time and when I came out of the clearing, I found myself right near the lake. I had come back to the lake. And then the moon came out of clouds again. In that beautiful pale light, which illuminated the lake once again, I saw that there was no one around. I was all alone there, down by the lake. I checked my hand. They were not black anymore, nor dead. The only pain that I could feel was from my twisted ankle and a buzzing sound in the ears. The lake undulated before me. There was a pale corridor of light right in the middle of it and there was a gentle wind breaking now. All was silent here, everything was at peace here. Did it really happen? Was it all a dream? I thought of going towards that door but when I moved around, I winced in pain. The right ankle was protesting wildly. So instead of heading that way, I limped towards the big stone stairs which would lead me back towards Expansiel. Somehow I climbed those stairs. The pain masked my confusion, gave my thoughts something to focus on, to hold on to so that I was able to make my way to my room. I straight away hit the bed. At around 3 AM, I woke up again and the memories came rushing back in. I could not sleep anymore so I got up and did the assignments. It was good that I was able to do something because I did not really want to think about anything about that weird experience in the woods, right next to the lake. But once the assignments were done and my eyes were too heavy to remain open, I thought about it again. In trying to make sense of it all, my mind kept coming out with explanations. My mind cannot settle down till the time it has solved a puzzle and this was awfully confusing. So my mind kept whizzing around, working on different scenarios, making sense of it logically and failing everytime.

After some days, when the ankle had healed, I went to the same spot and tried to locate the door, which was hidden in the trees. I could not find it. And so it ends. It was a weird night, one without explanations, one with so many unresolved questions. After much agonizing over it, this is my feeble explanation, that I had gone back in time and that as Angela was stuck here in this world, she needed help in getting out of the morass which was preventing her from leaving this world, maybe as a punishment, and so she needed my help. Once I helped her across the stairs she was united with her family and had moved on. The pain that I suffered in my ears could be due to the time traveling. Does that make any sense at all? I have not yet fully come to terms with it. Maybe someday I will be able to make better sense of it all. Till that time I will stick with my explanation.

Summer of misery

Summer of misery

This journal of events played out in the summer of 1982. Umesh had told me that I should tell you about myself at the very beginning itself. He said it was good etiquette. I am Aashu, I am 12 years old and I am really tall. Well, not really very tall but tall in my class sort of tall. Even Umesh is taller than me but then he is 25 years old and so he has to be taller than me. My brother Reshu is 10 years old and he thinks that he will be the tallest guy in the family after some years as he was the tallest child in his class last year. I and Reshu live with my parents in a big house at Khempur.

The town of Khempur is an old historical town but somehow progress has missed it completely or maybe the date of progress rolling in our town has not yet come. The roads are mostly broken. The rich people have moved to bigger cities, leaving behind their big houses locked, now covered by bushes and shrubs and grass. The television has come to very few houses but for majority of households, like us, there is no television. Even phone connections are very rare. One has to go to the post office to make a call. Some trains stop at our station but very few people would want to alight here. The tourists do not come here. There is nothing really for them to sightsee. There used to be a fort here. If you head northwards towards our school and take the road leading to Fatehpur town, you will see a hillock on the left side. On top of that hillock, there is a fort but it is in such a dilapidated state that it is impossible to believe that a king once ruled from here. Our town is located on the bank of river Ganges, the holiest of rivers. Sometimes we go there for boating and it is indeed a vast river but so peaceful. The power supply is actually bad. We get power only for 2 hours, maximum for 3 hours. It is such a usual thing that people complain of it only during summer. The summer months are hot, very hot and a ceiling fan is a welcome relief. In the summer evenings, mosquitoes would come calling and it is close to impossible to step out without fighting the battle of death with them. All the mosquitoes jump at you, all of them at the same time. So you keep on waving your hand or your legs and you do whatever you need to do as soon as possible and then you run back to the safety of mosquito net. Sleep would be impossible without the mosquito nets but even then the mosquitoes would find ways to enter our beds. The mosquitoes over here are very greedy. They keep on sucking blood. They are never satisfied. Mama tells us that they are like vampires. You need to kill them before they suck you dry. I find it very difficult to believe her story of how someone had been bitten by so many mosquitoes that he had died of loss of blood. Malaria, yes, but all blood lost, not possible. Every time I would speak against this story, Reshu would support the story. It is always with us. If I support something, Reshu has to go the other way. Before Umesh came in, I used to sometimes slap Reshu for disobeying me, but Umesh has asked me not to hit my kid brother and I have heeded his advice.

This is our ancestral house. Before us, our grandfather had lived here with his children and his retinue of servants. After he passed away, my father inherited the house and we have been here since. My father works as an officer in a bank and he goes to his office near the station. I and Reshu both go to Mount Snaps School near our house and we were considered average students before Umesh arrived. Umesh is our distant cousin and when he had come to meet our father, we met him for the first time. He had found a job in the town and had come over to our place so that he could join the company and simultaneously look for another house to rent. But after some ten days or so, my mother prevailed upon my father to let him stay in our house. She was of the opinion that the house was very big and it would be good if some more people would come to stay with us. And so Umesh brought along his wife and got the first floor to himself. Of course he never objected to us when we played hide and seek on the first floor and sometimes he would join us too. His wife Sheila is very nice and gentle. She was carrying a baby and the doctor had asked her to be very careful, so she would sit and watch us play.

I and Reshu were considered average students. We did not like to study. The subjects were horrible, the teachers were either incompetents or very boring and we found the school insufferable. Umesh took on the responsibility to tutor us. Both Papa and Mama were very happy to see us slog for our tests. When the annual examinations rolled in after two months, we were indeed prepared for them. The result day came in and my father was the proudest man in the school. Both his sons had done very well in the tests and even the teachers had spoken very kindly of us. This led to rise of Umesh’s stocks too in his eyes and if he had any reservations about him moving in with us, he let go of all of them. In short, life was good.

On the day of 12^th May, Reshu had gone to play with Amar, his classmate. He lives three houses from our house and Amar’s father, Mr Naman, is a good friend of Papa. So, we could walk in their house at any point of time. I had gone to pick him up when I found these big posters stuck to the walls :

“Babaji has arrived. Come to seek his blessings”

There was a big photograph of Babaji in his whites. He had a serene smile on his face. His white beard was flowing down. The poster said that he had walked in the Himalayas and he had met angels over there. He had obtained miraculous powers. He could heal deadly diseases. He could make your wishes come true. My first reaction was disbelief and I remember that Reshu and I had laughed about it. Babaji had resembled a villain in one of the comics that we had read and we were joking about it all the way home.

The next day we saw a lot of young disciples, all in the age group of 25-45, knocking each household and handing out pamphlets. One of them came around to our house too. He was young, he was polite and he kept singing praises of Babaji. Mama was sufficiently impressed by his talk and when Papa came home that evening, Mama told him that we would all go to see Babaji. At first Papa refused but then he agreed just to end the argument. Umesh was to accompany us but Sheila was to stay at home.

There was one big ground in the center of town. If a circus would visit our town it would always set up tent in that ground. Babaji’s first “darshan” was to happen in that same ground on May 15^th.

On 15^th of May, when we reached the ground, it was packed full. Almost whole of the town had come around to see Babaji and to get his blessings. We got seats some rows back from the elevated stage but it was good enough to get a good view of the proceedings. The first speaker was an old man, probably 60 yeas old, who praised the power of Babaji sky high. He told us that no one knew the real age of Babaji, that Babaji had walked on Earth for at least 1000 years, that even though he was so old no one could tell it from the way he carried himself. The second speaker was much younger and he described the miracles that Babaji had carried out in the past. This was the same stuff that was mentioned in the posters. Then some sections of the crowd started cheering for Babaji. At first the tempo was slow but gradually the pitch kept getting higher so that at one point of time everyone was bellowing around us. There was so much noise that I got a headache just listening to it all. I could see that Reshu was getting sick too. Papa and Umesh were getting uncomfortable. Then a very old man, stooped due to advanced age, walked up the stairs. Immediately a hush descended on the ground. Babaji was here. He climbed the stairs slowly but with no discomfort. Once he came on the stage, he sat cross-legged on the cushion and closed his eyes. I thought he looked around 80 years old, the same age as that of our grandfather when we had come to meet him. He certainly did not look like a 1000 years old person. The speaker on the dais touched his feet and set up the MIC near him. When Babaji spoke, his voice was low but not weak. He gave a short speech on the human frailties and how instead of focusing on what we have we focus on what we do not have and this leads to misery. I must say his voice was magical and most of us were completely engrossed in listening to him. When Babaji told us that he had chosen this town to stay because he could feel that good people live here and he wanted to help us, the crowd went crazy. There was such a loud cheer that I thought I would go deaf. At this point of time, Reshu suddenly started retching so Papa cut our trip short and we all came back.

Amar came next day to our house and told us of one miracle that Babaji had performed on the stage. Some people had brought a very sick child to him and when Babaji had blessed him, the child actually sat up. His parents started crying that it was after six months the child has the strength to sit up. He was very impressed by the act but Papa told us that it could have been an act and that we should not be so gullible. Our town people thought otherwise and very soon Babaji had captured everyone’s imagination. All were discussing him and his powers had everyone convinced that we were all witnessing the grand acts of a very powerful sage.

One week after the grand entry of Babaji in our town, I was cycling to the town library to get some books when I saw some 1000 people working very hard on a boundary wall. An ashram was being built for Babaji. He had decided to stay in our town and so everyone in the town was trying to help set up a place for him and his disciples. In three days flat, the whole structure was built from scratch. For some one week or ten days, there would be “satsang” every evening at the ashram and I had to attend some of them with Mama. Sometimes she would let me wander around and I saw that the ashram was indeed built beautifully. The floor was built of marble, the walls had grand pictures hanging on them and there was even one artificial fountain in the center of the ashram. Big boundary walls kept the noise of the streets out. The disciples would always keep an eye on children like me and after some time, every one of us would be escorted back to our parents. I told Reshu about it and he had the same opinion. They would let us hang outside the ashram but they would never let us enter it. Perhaps Babaji would get disturbed.

On May 31st, I saw a disciple in saffron robes step out of Amar’s house. I was curious about it and asked him about it when he came to play with us. Amar told us that his father had asked him not to tell anyone about the disciple’s visits. The next morning, I and Reshu were coming back from the market when we passed by Amar’s house. Someone was shouting inside the house. It was Amar’s dad. I had never seen him angry before. Today he was swearing profusely and from time to time Amar or his mother would scream. We assumed that he must have been hitting her. We did not dare enter the house but we shared it all with Mama who asked us not to snoop around on the neighbors. That evening Amar did not come out to play. Reshu went over to his house but Amar’s mother told him that there had been an accident and Amar had broken his hand and that he would not be able to come to play for some time.

We both came back and I wondered aloud whether it had something to do with the morning mania at their house. Reshu had got scared and he did not say anything back. We took out some old comics and began leafing through them. I was bored and I had read all these stories so many times. My attention was drawn to the other room where Papa was talking with Mr. Dutta, his colleague. It was the name of Babaji that piqued my curiosity. I deliberately came closer to the door interconnecting the rooms and eavesdropped on the conversation. Mr. Dutta went on and on about how he had obtained a private meeting with Babaji. In the course of meeting, Babaji had asked Mr. Dutta about any desire that he wanted to fulfill. Mr. Dutta had admitted that he was looking to make more money. Babaji had ribbed him about it and pointed out the many faults of possessing too much money. But Mr. Dutta had been persistent, so Babaji had blessed him but he had put a condition. He had told Mr. Dutta that he was unable to make more money from his side business because of his brother and his father who were staying with him. It was due to their bad vibes that Mr. Dutta was suffering monetarily. And so it had passed that Mr. Dutta had thrown his brother and his father out of his house and he himself had come over to our house so that he could find a sympathetic listener. However Papa was not at all impressed and I had to move away from the door because he was getting angry and I did not want to get caught eavesdropping when he was in such a foul mood. I did not share this with anyone but I was appalled by Babaji’s condition. How could he ask someone to do such an evil thing? Where would Mr. Dutta’s old father and his unemployed brother live? It was all wrong.

The next day was a very hectic one. Sheila had to be rushed to a maternity clinic because she was in pain. I and Reshu had to stay at the house while Mama went along with Sheila. Umesh was already there, having taken leave from his company for the day. Towards the evening, Umesh came home with Mama. He was not happy, he was very angry. What had happened? Our questions were rebuffed by Mama but we came to know that Sheila was ok but the baby’s condition was critical and that most likely it would die. Umesh was very distraught as they had lost one baby two years back. At first he cursed Sheila but later he started cursing all the gods and goddesses whose name he could invoke. Papa consoled him and took him out for a walk while Mama cooked food for us quickly and when Papa came back alone, she asked him to drop her at the clinic so that she could take care of Sheila. Where did Umesh go? We could hardly do anything so we stayed in our room and went through comic books. We had to go to sleep at 10 PM. Mama had not come back till then. At around 3 AM in the night, my sleep was disturbed by some sounds. I was very groggy but I identified Mama’s voice in the next room. Why have they all come back so late in night? In the morning, when I woke up, Reshu was already up who told me that Umesh and Sheila have also come back last night and that they were upstairs. When I enquired about the baby, Reshu professed his ignorance and Mama would not say anything at all.

That evening, a young man in saffron robes visited our house and asked for Umesh. I took him upstairs where Umesh and Sheila were expecting him. I tried to hang around but they sent me downstairs so I could not hear what they discussed. The next morning Umesh took Sheila to the ashram and when they came back in the afternoon, they were both smiling. Umesh had bought some sweets too. It was “rasamalai”, Reshu’s favorite. Umesh told Mama that Babaji had blessed Sheila and told them they would have a son who would do great deeds. The baby was sleeping in Sheila’s arms. It was so cute, so small. Mama told us that the baby could not open its eyes and that it needed to sleep a lot. Umesh was carrying some bags, which were carrying food for baby. It seems Babaji had arranged for special food for the baby. He had administered some special medicines to the baby and had been very clear that the baby needed these medicines for the first six months of its life and if Umesh failed to administer the medicines, the baby’s health would be affected severely. Moreover Babaji had asked some of his team members to deliver medicines to Umesh for free of cost. Well, at that moment I felt I had misjudged Babaji. Babaji was not that evil person.

Umesh was very happy though Mama was confused. The baby was very healthy but pre-mature babies are generally very sick. But Papa asked her to forget it all and focus on the baby. Later on, I realized the source of Mama’s confusion. She felt that Babaji could have swapped the babies. A pre-mature baby is generally very sickly and under-weight but this one had rosy cheeks.

We were all thrilled to bits with a baby in our house. When Mama went upstairs to bathe the baby, Sheila told her that Babaji had asked her to keep the baby away from everyone’s gaze. The other condition was that baby food would come from the ashram and only that food had to be given to him. We were barred from going upstairs. Reshu was very upset that he was not allowed to play with the baby but Papa took us out for ice-cream and we promised to behave. Someone from the ashram brought the baby food and medicines daily from that day onwards. That was the only sign that we had a baby in our house. The baby never cried and no sound came from upstairs.

Days were getting hotter. Power cuts were norms of the day and it was impossible to step outside during the day as temperatures reached 45°C. All through this we never heard the baby crying. Mama told us that it was amazing. A first time mother handling her baby in such a manner was unheard of. We used to stay put in the house the whole day, making up stories and whiling time, waiting for the cooler evenings when we could step out and play with our friends.

It was now middle of June upon. Papa came back early one day. His face was ashen. Mr Dutta had been murdered by his brother. When he had learnt of it, he had gone to Mr Dutta’s place to pay his last respect. It was then the policeman stationed over there told him about the incident. Mr. Dutta’s brother had walked in the house and stabbed him. Then instead of running away, he stood his ground till the time the police had arrived on the scene and arrested him. His brother kept taking Babaji’s name and in his confession statement, he had mentioned that he had also gone to Babaji to seek his blessings and that he had been told that his father would live in peace only if he would kill Mr. Dutta. However the senior officer had removed all references to Babaji from the confessional statement. Papa was very upset that it was Babaji who had sent a brother to kill his own brother.

There was a brief mention of the incident in the newspaper the next day but it just stated the facts and no mention of Babaji. That evening Naman uncle, Amar’s father, came to visit us. We stayed away from him as we both remembered how he had broken Amar’s hand. He was sad though. I don’t know why but I hung around near the door again to listen to their conversation. Naman uncle began by stating how miserable he had been. He confessed that he had been lured by Babaji’s promise of wish fulfillment and that in his private meeting with him he had prayed for name and fame. He had written some books but his books had never been published. Once again Babaji had asked him to reconsider. When he had persisted, Babaji had agreed to help him but on one condition, that he had to beat his wife and his only child and that someone from the ashram would bear witness to it all and if Naman did what he was expected to do, the ashram would help him in getting his books published. The first time he had beaten them, the disciple stationed outside had reported that it was a mild beating, and they turned Naman away. So the next day, he had been brutal, leading to a fracture in Amar’s hand. This time the disciple was sufficiently impressed and that same day someone from a publishing company had approached him and offered him a deal on the publication of his very first book. The book had been published but instead of feeling happy and satisfied, Naman had felt numbness and emptiness. He was weeping while he spoke of it all. His only son had got so scared of him that he would start screaming if Naman even approached him. Papa consoled him and asked him to make a fresh beginning. When Naman uncle left, Papa stayed in the office for quite some time. Then he went out to meet someone.

At least this was clear to me now. Babaji would provide means to fulfill one’s deepest desires but in return he would ask for something that would corrupt some aspect of the petitioner’s life. Does the petitioner really desire the outcome he wants? If so, is he willing to pay the price for it?

The next evening some neighbors and some colleagues of Papa, assembled at our house. Papa addressed them about the menace the ashram was creating in our society. I and Reshu were both proud of how well he spoke. Papa kept repeating that we all need to take some step now and get the ashram closed. Babaji and his gang must have come to know about this meeting. At least I think so because the very next day Papa was suspended for dereliction of duty. His senior officer had turned against him. Papa was to stay at home till the time a commission was set up to take decision on his suspension. The charge on him was that he had embezzled funds. It was a horrible time for all of us. The prospect of losing his job made Papa very miserable. He could not sleep for two nights in a row and on the morning of July 5^th, he stepped out of the house without informing anyone of us. We did not know that he had gone to the ashram. He came back in the evening with one disciple who was carrying packets containing baby food. Mama was very upset but she was helpless. Papa must have agreed to do something evil. He joined the bank next day itself. The complaint was withdrawn and all references to it were removed.

Contrary to what I had assumed, Papa had not started beating us all. But something ate him up. He was unable to sleep properly at night, muttering something only he could understand. Mama was very concerned about the lack of proper sleep. She had heard of how stress creates heart troubles and she wanted him to let go of it all. But Papa was not at peace.

All these days, I and Reshu had stayed away from Umesh’s baby. Umesh had kept his distance too. Perhaps he felt guilty. He had started asking Sheila to lock the gate on the staircase so that we could not go upstairs. We had started to avoid him. On the intervening night of July 14^th and 15^th, there was a shrill cry that came from upstairs. It was not the cry of a baby, rather it was a scream of an animal in pain. It was very hot and I was tossing about in bed when I heard the scream and after that I could not go to sleep. Was it really the baby? Why did it cry that way? By the time I fell asleep, I had decided that I just had to take a look at the baby. The next morning I and Reshu discussed the matter. We knew that what we were embarking to do was not appropriate and there was every chance that we could get caught and punished. But after last night, we both were very curious and so we planned the mission. We had to wait till Mama would go to take her bath. That would give us 20 minutes of window, give or take 2-3 minutes. I had to jump over the gate and hide myself somewhere. Then Reshu would ring the bell which will force Sheila to come to the gate. This will give me some time to rush in and to look at the baby. Then I needed to hide and bide my time. Once Sheila would go back to her room, I would cross the gate once over and complete the mission.

At the decided hour, I jumped over the locked gate. Though it was difficult, I managed to do it. Once I had jumped over the gate and ran up the stairs, Reshu gave me two minutes to hide before he rang the bell three times and ran to hide himself. I had managed to hide in the spare room near the door to the staircase and had waited with bated breath for Sheila’s arrival. She did not come out immediately and after an eternity, I heard her shuffling towards the door. I peeped from the gap of the closed door and found her to be not only untidy but disheveled too and that her face would grimace every time she would shift her weight on her left foot. Once she had hobbled past the door and onto the staircase, I tiptoed as fast as I could to her room. The baby was lying on the bed. He was awake. He had grown up very fast. He appeared to be a six months old baby! He was covered with a thin sheet. I pulled the sheet away gently. He was beautiful. He was kicking his legs up when he noticed me. His eyes were green, luminous green. Sheila and Umesh had grey eyes. How did the baby have green eyes? I thought he was going to cry out so I tried to hush him. But he screamed and it was the same scream that I had heard last night and then he went limp, like he had died or something. I was so scared that I did not even realize that Sheila had managed to come back. Instead of shouting at me, Sheila went to the bed and sat beside the baby. She touched his cheek once and without looking at me, in a very tired voice, she asked me to leave. Her voice was so creepy that I immediately made good my escape. When I jumped back over the gate, Reshu had been waiting for me. But I never said anything to him. I was afraid I would scare him silly so I lied to him about getting caught by Sheila. How could a baby scream like that? What was it? Why did it go limp?

That evening when Umesh came back home, I was very scared that Sheila would tell him about my misadventure upstairs and that he would complain to Papa about me. After some time, when Papa came home, Umesh came downstairs. He had been crying. He talked in whispers with Papa and Mama who then went upstairs with him. After some time, Papa and Umesh came downstairs while Mama stayed with Sheila. Papa did not speak at all.

Umesh went out, presumably to the ashram. When he came back, he had a bundle in his hand and he was accompanied by three young men all wearing saffron robes. They all went up and stayed there for close to one hour. All we heard was loud voices reciting incantations. Then one of them came down and went outside. I told Reshu that he had gone to the post office to make a call to the ashram. Reshu did not agree with me but when he saw a car stopping in front of our house, we both knew that I had guessed correctly. When we saw who alighted from the car, we were both shocked and scared. It was Babaji. He had come to our house. There were other disciples with him. Babaji shuffled slowly towards the stairs. It was difficult for him to walk up the stairs but he managed just fine. I was dying to be upstairs to check what was going on but Papa would not let me or Reshu out of his eyesight. Mama, Umesh and Sheila witnessed the whole thing and this is a very much watered down account of what happened that night. Umesh has promised me that he will share the actual details with me when I am all grown up.

That evening when Babaji went upstairs, he first checked the baby. Sheila was crying while Mama was trying to console her. When Babaji declared that nothing can be done and they all got up to leave, Umesh and Sheila grabbed his feet and began beseeching him that he must do something. Mama told me that at this Baba had laughed.

“Fools!!! You had already promised me that I will take your child when he would turn 5. He has left us even before he turned one, so why do you cry?”

Umesh stepped back but Sheila kept crying loudly and would not let go of Babaji’s feet.

“Baba, I can’t live without my son. Please do something.” She kept repeating that. Babaji wavered a little and then said.

“I can bring your child back. But you will have to pay for it. Nothing gets done for free. Will you be willing to do so? You cannot go back on your word, remember that”

Sheila nodded her head. Umesh was having second thoughts now but Sheila had committed to something without even knowing what it was. Babaji asked her to reconsider but she was adamant. She told him that she was ready for anything as long as her son was alive. Umesh tried to pull her back gently but Sheila pushed him back violently.

“OK. That settles it. Your son will live but you will have to murder your husband. Is that OK? Would you do it?”

Babaji waited for some moments but when Sheila kept nodding her head, he asked her again.

“Do you agree to that?”

Sheila managed a weak “yes”. At this, Umesh started shouting at the absurdity of it all. Three disciples held him and pinned him down. The others had raised their voices reciting chants and the voices kept getting louder and louder. We heard this din downstairs. I was very curious and I wanted to go check it out but Papa would not let me go. Mama told me that Babaji got one big knife out of his pocket, thrust it in Sheila’s right hand and asked her to do what she had promised. She got up, took two steps towards Umesh and hesitated. All three disciples who had pinned down Umesh started exhorting her.

“Come on, you need to hit him once in the neck, that’s all” said one of them.

“Come on. The knife is very sharp. It will go through like a hot knife in butter. Come on, don’t be tardy” said another.

Mama was so scared that she was left frozen on the spot. She could not move, could not speak, could not react and could not speak anything. Her throat had gone dry. She could only watch the drama unfolding.

Sheila shuffled right next to Umesh who was now squirming and trying to fight back. But it was a losing battle. Again Sheila hesitated. Babaji came to her now and held her by her shoulders. He muttered something in her ears, no one heard what it was, there was so much din going on but Sheila would not move. Babaji took the knife out of her hands and gestured to his people to let go of Umesh who immediately scampered back and stopped only when his back hit the wall. All the disciples went silent.

“It is so easy for me to pit one brother against another, father against his son, wife against husband. Why are you dissatisfied all the time? Why do you want everything? Why would you be willing to do anything to get what you want? Why do you keep making same mistakes again and again? This is my third foray in your world and every time the same drama unfolds. The only redeeming aspect is that at least some of you still believe in love, some of you still have regrets and some of you are strong enough to refuse temptations.” Here he looked at Sheila who had now crumped on the ground weeping slowly.

Then Babaji turned towards his disciples.

“Our time here is well spent. Let us head back to the Himalayas. We will leave tonight.”

With that, he went down followed in complete silence by his disciples. After their departure, we rushed upstairs and we found Mama sitting on the floor with her head in her hands and Sheila was sitting with her dead baby in her lap. Umesh was still standing with the wall on his back, his face still white with fear.

The next morning, everyone was talking about the ashram being empty. There was no trace of Babaji or his disciples. They had all left our town last night itself. Who was he really? Why had he come here? Was there some higher purpose to it all? There were no answers forthcoming.

Our town has limped back to normalcy or the closest thing to normalcy. Umesh and Sheila are still with us. They have started a course of therapy for Sheila and they would wait for some time before planning for a baby. Amar’s hand healed in two months. His father has mended bridges with him. We see them taking a walk every morning together, laughing and sharing jokes. Mr. Dutta’s father lives in his house and he takes care of Mr. Dutta’s children and his widow. The only question that I did not have answer to was the nature of deal that Papa had made with Babaji. I got to learn about it some two months after the ashram got closed when Papa was talking with Mama and he assumed I would not be able to hear what he was talking about. That fateful day, when Papa had gone to the ashram, they had made him wait for a long period of time and when he got an audience with Babaji, he was asked to clear the loan application of three persons who would apply in the next week. My father is a very honest and scrupulous person and he had already rejected those loan applications some time back. The papers were not in order. But when Babaji forced him to clear the paperwork, he had agreed to do so for the sake of his job. It had been a humiliating week for him and he was under lots of stress. One week after the ashram got closed, he had threatened those people to return the loan amount and to close their loan accounts which they had done finally after two months. And so after all these days, Papa was at peace. Finally we all could look forwards to a better tomorrow.