Monday, May 16, 2011

THE NIGHT HALT - 1

Encounters with tall dark shadows, walking spirits, shrill voices from behind, solitary whispers, out of the body experiences thrill even the most cynical human beings. Very few people can claim from deep down their heart to be uninterested in these real life experiences, even if they do not believe in them. Humans have this sort of fear deep rooted within their mind. The more we claim not to get afraid by such incidents are all the more a proof, that we are getting involved in this fear episode slowly, surely and steadily. Fear and its obsession is something that incorporates vivacity in any incident anywhere both for the writer and also for the reader.

A Senior Systems Engineer aged 26 years was working in Muscat and had returned to his hometown, his darling Calcutta. His name is Subhankar Mitra. After staying for three days at home he decided to leave aside the dean and bustle of the town and venture in quieter places and of areas of lush greenery. He landed up in a moderate forest area in the outskirts of Calcutta called Mayurganj. As far as knowledge goes this name is found in other parts of West Bengal also. The place does not boast of electricity as it is a far off dream. Kerosene lamps bear light to the mysterious nights of Mayurganj. The place only boasts of a dak bungalow and about 10 kms towards the border area of Bangladesh is the dispensary as one may call it and attached with it is the three roomed house of the government medical officer. It was about 3 pm in the afternoon. He was hunting desperately for a shelter as the bungalow was already booked by some government officials. He took out a fifty rupee note and gave it to the darwaan who still seemed helpless of giving him shelter and told him of the dispensary about 10 kms away. The darwaan seemed to sweat profusely though it was a wintry evening. He enquired about his fear to which the darwaan said something in tribal language. It seemed like greek to him, anyway he did not pay heed to it. The darwaan turned and disappeared in the forest. It was getting dark and the road was not a prominent one. It seemed as if no one had traveled for years. The stony path was covered with dry leaves and herb like plants. The stones seemed to be exceptionally slippery. He treaded on them cautiously.

As it was nearly dark, he took out a five-battery torch which is mostly used in forests to see through fogs. After a strenuous walk of hours on end he saw a gleam of light from a big house. It is actually a planking bungalow. A flight of wooden steps led to the verandah of the house. The moment he moved up on the steps he heard the door of the house creaking. He gasped in amazement and to his relief a middle-aged man opened the door with a sweet smile of welcome. The face of the man seemed to drive away all the tiring efforts put together for hours. He simply enquired about his name and asked to step in. Otherwise, in cities no one does easily let strangers come inside their houses without full confirmation of their identity and background. This was the first exception he encountered though not unnatural. He introduced himself as a doctor of the nearby dispensary. His name was Ajitesh Kar; he was unmarried. The doctor did not ask though, but he felt it was his duty to tell him about his profession. He was surprised that young vibrant people love their country still as some ambitious people who work abroad get settled their without returning to their country.


Contd...P/2

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