THE NEVER GONE

I reached home from the coaching class, and I was having my dinner. Usually, I would not be bothered about my mother's talk while she would serve me food, as most of the time, it would be about if I was dating someone and if I was planning to get married. She would speak, and I would respond by nodding my head saying 'Hmm' while chewing my food. However, that night, her mention of the word 'posses' caught my attention. With a bite of chapati and sabji about to enter in my gaped mouth, I asked in surprise, "What?"

"Arrey, the Lokhande's Prakash, that Pakya, has been possessed by a ghost. Since last night he has been acting and speaking something weird in a different voice," Mother said while keeping her chin on her on the palm. 

I finished my dinner. "Ghost and possession? Aayi, it is all superstition. They are interesting stories to listen to, but useless and fake according to me." I said while wiping my mouth with a napkin. 

"Educated people like you think that they know everything, and on the top of that, you are a Nastik, an atheist. You won't trust your mother. How much I suffered in educating you and ..." before she could speak any more words, I left the house as I knew it was time for me to get emotionally blackmailed. 

Prakash was an acquaintance from my chawl. He used to work as a waiter-cum-cashier-cum-cook in the nukkad's chai stall. I straight away went to his house. There were people gathered around his jhuggi, a zopadi. People in my locality seem very interest in 'unearthly things' and making a huge fuss of every such thing. Somehow, I shouldered them to get a chance to see what was happening. 

Prakash was sitting on the ground with legs fold and both knees close to his chest. He was shivering though it was the hot April month. His eyes were red, his lips dried and withered. His clothes were dirty. There were fresh scratch marks on his arms. His shirt was torn at the shoulders. I was shocked to see his condition, but I got the shock of my life when he opened his mouth to speak.

"I won't leave him. I won't go anywhere."

It was not Prakash's voice. The voice was different as if some angry woman was speaking from inside him. The voice was hoarse and was sounding scary. It was now my turn to shiver though it was the hot April month.

"He shouldn't have kicked the Utara. Now, I won't leave him. Never." He continued speaking while continuously banging his head hard against the wall. His father and brothers held him tightly. 

I left the place and I couldn't believe my eyes. Just because he kicked utara, (A lemon pierced with many pins and kumkum sprinkled on it. In Hindu culture, it is used to conjure an evil spirit.) he was possessed by a ghost. 

That night I overheard people in the chawl speaking something. A woman arrived at our door and told my mother, "Shut the door now. They have trapped the evil spirit in a lemon now and are taking it to throw somewhere." Without wasting a second, my mother shut the door. As if mother knew what I would ask, mother said, "During this process, one is not supposed to keep the doors open or cross the path of the tantrik who is doing this ritual. The ghost might leave that lemon and enter onto someone else's body." that was the most idiotic thing said by her. After that conjuring ritual, every house threw a bucket of water in the verandah to purify the chawl. 

Next morning, when I was leaving for my office, I saw Prakash. He was sitting alone on the porch in front of his house. He was looking normal. He greeted me, "Good morning, Amit." I greeted back but didn't dare to ask him about the previous night. In the afternoon, somebody told me that the evil spirit was no more in his body. He was alright then. 

The entire chawl was relieved as people thought that there was no more ghost or spirit in the chawl then. Kids were playing hide-and-seek in the dim light of the hundred-watt bulbs in front of our houses. Women were sitting on the porch discussing their day with each other. Men were playing cards and were surrounded by the beedi's smoke. And a sudden scream coming from one of the houses sent chills down everyone's spine. The kids stopped their hide-and-seek and hid behind their mothers. The women gossiping jumped off their seats, and the men playing cards, paused. One more time, we heard the scream. It was coming from Sheru's house. The men quickly went to see what had happened, and their bodies got frozen when they saw Sheru's younger sister, Sanaa, was saying the same words, 

" I won't leave her. I won't go anywhere. She shouldn't have kicked the Utara. Now, I won't leave her. Never." 

Sanaa's pulled her hair opened with a force. Her eyes red, mouth dried and lips were withered. She too had a hoarse, scary voice exactly like of Prakash when he was possessed. 

(to be continued)