It was a long, long time ago. He was fresh in a central Govt service, requiring frequent tours throughout North Eastern region. He had arrived at Aizawl in the evening, the hilly District headquarters of Lushai hills(now Mizoram), then within the State of Assam. He was assigned a survey task in a rather remote township far from Aizawl. Early the next morning, he boarded the only transport bus that would take him to his unknown destination. Almost all the co-passengers were local Lushai people, adorned in their customary costumes! snub nosed,expressionless hooded eyed that seemed stern and ferocious to his unaccustomed eyes.The bus seemed to have no fixed departure time, though it was to leave early as he was told. After a long wait, the rickety bus finally snaked its way through the zig zag pebble covered road. After a short journey, the bus was now passing through literally a nondescript road with thick forests on either side, rolling verdant hills kissing the horizon, tall ancient trees almost touching the cloudy skyline. The bus rolled along topsy-turvy, winding through the hilly terrain, picking up a reasonable speed. After covering a considerable distance, the bus slowed down, moving at a snail’s pace, as if apprehensive of some unknown danger. As the bus moved on, forests on either side appeared to grow thicker and thicker, the jungle agog with a symphony of mingled sounds of nature.Though it was day time,sunshine played hide and seek through the thick foliage, sometimes totally dark with sunlight completely blocked. The bus suddenly picked up speed, passengers abruptly jolted almost out of their seats, a matronly lady sitting a few seats behind opened her inside out, hurriedly trying to open the glass window. She belched out whatever she had inside, littering the floor below, unable to open the window in time. The bus conductor hurriedly came down, shouting some choice expletives in native dialect, shutting the window firmly, instead of opening for her convenience. Sitting in front seat, he apprehensively looked ahead, sensing that the driver seemed to be in a hurry to cross a particular stretch of the dilapidated road. The bus stopped, as suddenly as it had picked up speed, driver killing the engine completely, all passengers sitting immobile, a sense of foreboding almost palpable. looking ahead, he suddenly saw a group of wild boars dashing across the road, grunting and wailing, as if holding on to dear life. A few moments later, he fleetingly saw a big black shape blaze past in hot pursuit. Moments passed, suddenly a blood-curdling death wail reverberated through the jungle, hovering in the air for some nondescript time, then an eerie silence! A hitherto unknown primordial fear gripped him.
The passengers and driver alike continued to sit immobile, as if anticipating something more the jungle was about to unfold. A herd of elephants, led by a big one with long tasks, came into view, walking slowly and majestically across the road. They seemed to linger on, the small cub appeared to saunter towards the bus playfully. He felt his heart skip a beat, terrified lest the elephants decide to play with the bus! The mother elephant appeared to slowly nudge the cub, the herd continued walking majestically towards the jungle, then disappeared as they came.
The driver waited for a few more minutes, then slowly moved the bus out of that stretch of the jungle. As it moved along, the forest grew thinner, he could make out small hamlets of villages far across the sloping hills, with jhum plantations adorning the surroundings. A frothing mountain stream was burbling down the slopes with gay abandon. He saw young damsels bathing, frolicking below water streams flowing through bamboo poles. As the bus approached, they giggled, waving at the passengers simultaneously. A few young ones, having finished their bathing chores were climbing up the hills with water buckets dangling on both sides of a bamboo pole, laughing and waving at the bus, very fair sturdy ankles rippling with every upward step. He looked on at the captivating natural beauty of the virgin hills and frolicking young rosy cheeked damsels, enchanted. After a long and tiresome journey, the bus stopped at a Bazaar like market place, agog with activity. all the passengers disembarked with whatever archaic luggage they were carrying, obviously for lunch and refreshment. The market appeared to be a bartering joint, people carrying vegetables, rice, paddy and some other undescribable local variants! quite a few were carrying on their back hunted wild pigs, veritable birds and other wild jungle creatures, everyone carrying a long traditional machete hanging from their waist. A few carried big boars hanging from a stout bamboo pole, both ends resting on shoulders on either side. He stared on, fascinated, as if the sight was coming straight out of some ancient primeval era! He disembarked only to relieve himself, carefully avoiding the queer looking assortment of exotic foods that were on ample display, an unlikely vegetarian that he was.
The bus almost forgot to start again!! After a long time that seemed like ages, the driver climbed on to his seat, soaked with local variety of liquor. Some new passengers boarded with loads of assorted weird items, older ones seemingly reaching their destinations. A few got up with wild pigs on their back, obviously a recent barter from the market!
By the time he was disgorged at a solitary spot by a foothill, It was completely dark.
Upon disembarking, he looked around, it was dark, not a single soul around. He could just make out some cottage type shanties in the dim light of earthen lamps, some distance away. Not knowing where the Dak Bunglow was, he walked the distance up to the shanty. A Mizo elder appeared and looked at him quizzically, utter surprise and apprehension writ large on his wrinkled face. He somehow made him understand his purpose known, seeking direction to the Dak Bunglow. The expression of fearful concern thickened. He looked at him more intently, as if he heard something taboo. Baffled, he tried to explain as best he could, thinking the elderly Mizo possibly could neither understand English nor Hindi. The man vaguely pointed towards a hill top that seemed to float high above the dark clouds hovering in the night, shutting the door without a further word. Nonplussed, he came back to where the bus had dropped him and after tentatively walking further ahead, he saw a narrow stone pebbled path winding up. A cold wind was blowing with a whispering sound, it was mid December. He shivered, the cold was biting, the warm clothes unable to prevent the icy air reaching his bones. Tightening his muffler and the woolen sweater, he started climbing, the narrow path seemed to be out of use. Thick shrubs, moss covered stone pebbles littered the whole winding steps way up. He continued to climb, nothing was properly visible but for the torch light. Dark shadows moved away, lurking at a distance embracing each other, patiently waiting to fill the void created by the torch. The long shadows of high trees and thick bushes seemed to grow larger in the dim light, swaying slowly, as if ghosts were dancing merrily, whistling each other. Not from far, a prolonged, mournful howling of some nocturnal predators floated through the silent night, it was eerie! He was all goosebumps with an unknown fear, the howling seemed so near by.
He was now regretting his choice, his young blood adventurism! He could have easily chosen a more civilized habitat among the various places of assignment he was offered, than this Godforsaken place. He tried to gather courage, assuring himself,”I am Himu, the fearless one”! but his attempt at self boasting did little help. After climbing up a good distance that seemed unending, he saw the bungalow, a rather large one, with a big compound, a flourishing flower and a vegetable garden adorning the outer periphery. There was darkness around the Bungalow, no light or lamp lighting up, but there was a small cottage type house adjacent to the main bungalow. entire inner compound protected by a high fencing with a robust iron gate. He could see dim light emanating from the house and heard human voices.With a big sigh of relief, he approached, at last some civilization! He knocked. The faint conversation inside stopped! as if something very unusual happened. The door remained locked, he could somehow sense the apprehension of the inmates, as if the knocking was unreal. He knocked again, this time a bit more assertively, calling out at the same time, ” koi hai, mei Shillong se aya hoon”( is any body inside, I have come from Shillong )! The door slowly half-opened, a head peeked out, ” koun hai?”( who are you? ).He explained again. This time, the door fully opened, a person, seemingly of Nepali descent appeared. He explained again ” mei sarkari kam se ayaa hoon, do teen din ka kam hei, yoha rukna porega” ( I have come on government duty, have to stay for 2/3 days ). The caretaker looked at him in consternation! ” Aap yoha rokenge raatko?”( you want to stay for the whole night here?) A bit irritated, extremely tired that he was from the tiring journey, said ” Haan, kyun koi mushkil hei?”( yes, why! is there any problem?). The caretaker hurriedly said,” no no, it is just that nobody has come to stay here for a long time”. He ushered him inside and left for sprucing up the room that he would be assigned. The matronly Nepali wife served him with some hot tea and snacks and sat some distance away, a shy demure expression on her face. He tried to get into a conversation, with some pep talk about the small township. At first shy and hesitating to talk to a stranger, she opened up slowly and then started to talk in torrents, as if she had been missing juicy gossip for a long time.
The caretaker came back after sometime, escorting him to his assigned room. The room was spacious, well furnished! a damp worn out smell was all pervading. He could see cobwebs at the corners of the walls, a hurried attempt to clean up was evident. He asked for an early dinner, impatient to retire for the night, totally exhausted that he was after the grueling journey. True to his words, he was provided an early sumptuous meal by the caretaker and retired for the night soon after, putting the lamp very dim.
He awoke with a start! The wall clock was chiming 12 am. Something was amiss! At first disoriented, he opened his sleepy eyes, nothing was visible. A rotten, putrid type smell hit his nostrils.Then he could distinctly hear someone walking at the adjacent room, sandals flapping on the floor. A smell of cigarette smoke mixed with a rotten odor again hit his nostrils. Silence!! Abruptly he heard a type of sound, as if someone was turning pages of a news paper. The putrid, foul smell was now overwhelming. He felt nauseated, felt like vomiting. Again silence!!! This time it seemed that someone was walking on the veranda to and fro, sandals flapping. A mixed feeling of companionship as well as something creepy engulfed him, is he a new visitor or some……..He felt himself trembling, cold sweat broke out, consumed with an intense fear, heart pounding uncontrollably. The flapping sandals were inside his room!! He felt wet with cold sweat below the warm quilt! Suddenly he sensed someone was very near, hot foul breath all over his face! He fainted.
The house he was staying in Shillong was falling apart!! Walls breaking, roof crumbling! He jumped out of his bed, ran for the door, only to bang hard with his head against the wall. Disoriented, he opened his eyes, then reality hit him. Someone was banging on the door of his room with all his might! as if to break it open! He hurriedly opened the door. The caretaker was standing there with extreme concern, then visibly relaxed on seeing him. He was apologetic, said he got concerned because though it was very late morning, he was still not awake. He told the caretaker about the incident of previous night, was there a new boarder visiting at the dead of night? The caretaker looked at him with alarm, “is that so, did you see anything?”! then he showed him the door of the adjacent room, two heavy rusted iron locks were firmly intertwined on the aldrop, cob webs all over.
He narrated about an incident that happened a very long time ago, how an Angrazi Sahab was murdered in that particular room, a room that remained locked for an indefinite period even before he took over his job here. And the Dak Bungalow remained a haunted place ever since!! But then it is another story…
Forgetting his assignment, he left the place on the first available transport!
The incident was narrated to me by a very respected elder as encountered by him, who is no more. May his soul rest in peace.
Some references::
History of Mizorammizoram.nic.in › about › history
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Surasmita Singha
Very nice 👌