Curse of the Unknown

                                   

                                   Episode 3

“Hurry up!” I screamed as the apparition’s image in the mirror began to look larger by every passing second. Her obscured appearance was slowly getting a shape now- a figure which was skinny, covered in a white robe which was half smeared in blood, and those long, bony hands which were tirelessly waving at us. “Don’t look at it”, said the first woman,” and don’t dare to look back.” I complied with her orders and tried my best to avoid looking at the mirror. But every now and then I found my eyes stuck at the mirror, gazing at that odious specter with fear. The harder I tried to constraint my vision, more incited I felt to look at it.
My whole body was shivering out of fear. I grabbed hold of the first woman’s shoulders and squeezed them impetuously. She was highly offended, I knew, but I was in no mood to leave hold of her until we were out of this trouble. Suddenly, the woman in the mirror disappeared. I heaved a sigh of relief as I thought that the danger was over now. But somewhere inside me I was still perplexed that whether the apparition’s disappearance was the end of our miseries or the indication of an impending disaster.
The road was nearing its end and so was my patience. The sound of the bustling vehicles from the highway was the only relief for me. I closed my eyes and tightened my grip over the first woman’s shoulders. She screamed; and I knew that it was not my tightening grip which had made her shriek. I opened my eyes in horror only to find the same woman in white standing in front of us, waving at us with her bloodied hands. Her mouth, which was rinsed with blood, was continuously uttering these three words” Don’t go ahead.” I was left aghast and confused at the same time- what did she meant? In the meantime the second woman steered the scooty inside the jungle. “What the hell are you doing?”, I cried. “She is doing the right thing.”, the first woman asserted, “Stay calm and pray. (Holding my hands) Seriously, pray.” I am a Brahmin and henceforth I know quite a few mantras and chalisas. But at that time nothing from my holy dictionary appeared in my mind in spite of my incessant efforts to recall them.
Our scooty was cutting a swathe through the thorny bushes which in return ripped my shirt into strips of clothes. Suddenly I saw an old, wooden bridge, nearly 30-40 yards away from us. It was in midst of a muddy land and led straight to the highway. But it was severely damaged and just needed a hint of force to cripple down into pieces. ”Hey! wwhha..t are you doing?”, I cried as the second woman paced the scooty towards the bridge. “Hold on!”, the first woman said, her tone still impervious of the odious situation. But her words were not enough to pacify me. The scooty was already very short when compared to my six feet tall frame. It took me just a little push against the seat to remove myself from the bumpy ride. However, to my surprise, the scooty rode over the bridge quite comfortably. I was cursing myself for jumping off the scooty when suddenly the scooty lost its balance and fell just next to the bridge. I ran for their aid and found the two women on the ground, drenched in mud. While the second one was cursing me and reprehending me for all that, the first woman was crouched quietly on the muddy surface, nursing her left leg which had got injured. I leapt for help but the second woman came in my way and roared, “Don’t you dare touch her.” I was taken aback by this action. For some reasons she was looking scarier than the apparition which was following us. Her hairs scattered, just like that woman in white, were reminding me of Goddess Kali, breathing fire in her rage fuelled avatar. She helped the first woman on her feet, started the scooty and was just about to go when the sound of a huge vehicle bustled up the place. I saw a truck standing just about ten yards from us. Suddenly a man (a sardar actually) popped out his head from the truck’s window and offered help. Looking at their condition (which was definitely not good for driving), I asked both of them to come along with me in the truck. But as furious as she was, the second woman declined my offer and stormed her scooty out of the place. Before they went, I saw the first woman’s face; her brows were writhing with pain above her melancholic eyes, which were clearly hinting me that there was more than the physical pain which was bothering her.
Nevertheless, they went on their way and I on my own. The next day I went to the branch office of Sparrow Books Publishing House with my book in a hope that the matter will get sorted out quickly. But another problem was awaiting me over there.
“So you are saying that the chief editor will return after a week.” said I to the receptionist, who was busy receiving her calls. “Exactly, sir.” she replied, still lost in her work. I asked ,” Has he left any message for me?”
“Tell me your name sir.”
“Gautam Bhardwaj.”
After scrolling down her notes for a while, she answered
“Yes sir. Mr. Gautam Bhardwaj, you have an appointment with our sub editor at 12pm today. She will be concerned with your matter till Mr. Pathak comes back.”
“Great. Then I’ll wait till 12pm.”
“But you cannot meet her today sir.”
“Why? Is she on a leave too?”
“No sir. I…I mean yes sir. But on a medical leave.”
“What happened to her?”
“She fractured her leg yesterday while coming back from Pagdandi Marg. What a cursed place that is.”
Suddenly yesterday’s bad memories crossed my mind. I asked the receptionist,” Is this Pagdandi Marg lies adjacent to the new highway?”
“Yes sir.”
“Can you please tell me the name of your sub editor?”
“Her name is Asmi Mathur.”
The name sounded familiar to me. Judging by my face, she asked,” Do you know her sir?”

I smirked," I think I do.”

To be continued……  

Curse of the Unknown

                                  

                                 Episode 2

“Excuse me, may I help you?” the woman asked. For an instant I forgot my pain and was mesmerized by the sanity in her voice. I looked up to see her face- it was perfectly oval in shape with a broad forehead. Her long ravine hairs, jet black in colour with streaks of gold, ran down to her hips. However, it was her eyes which caught my attention- they were big, almond shaped and had the same mesmerizing effect as of her voice. "Are you alright?” asked the lady again, with her left brow twirled up in annoyance over my continual gaze. The mesmerizing look of her eyes was now replaced by a strident, sardonic look, compelling my head to lower down in embarrassment. “I am alright. Just a…. little..”
I tried to get up but my legs were too weary to bear the weight of my body. Moreover I had injured my left knee and it was bleeding profusely. I was completely exhausted and both my senses and will had gone hazy altogether. Seeing my condition, the woman took out a bottle from her bag and forwarded it to me. “Have it”, the woman said, “you’ll feel good.” The bottle was filled with some energy drink and got emptied within a minute. My senses returned and I looked around. The bus stand was still there but there was something else which I hadn’t noticed yet- the path ahead was completely shadowed by the cluster of old and dense banyan trees on both sides of the road, which were refraining the light from touching the ground. “We need to walk. I just can’t imagine myself stranded over this place after the sunset.”
“What’s wrong with this place?” I asked, standing up in the process with a little help from the lady.
“You are not from Pune, are you?”
"And how exactly do you know that?”
“Because had you been from Pune, you should have known about this place.”

I was getting a bad feeling about the place although she had not given the intricate description of the place.
The eerie silence of the road was creeping in my mind. The place was so dead silent! It seemed as if all traces of life (except trees) have been deliberately effaced from the place. I would have enjoyed this sort of environment on any other day but I was at my lowest that day.

I was trying hard to match her steps. She was walking steadily, her expressions austere amidst this haunting silence which was freaking me out. Her calm and composed demeanor was giving me the feel of confidence and jealousy at the same time. I used to rake my audacity in a very high esteem in those days so it was quite irksome for me that someone else, especially a woman, was showing more composed attitude than me at that time.
 I reached for my cellphone in my pocket and it was out in a flash. But it served me no good as there was no signal. Dejected, I looked up at the sky which was getting darker by every passing minute. Amidst of this hopeless situation( which was quite ironical because I was getting feared without any pragmatic reason), I heard a sound of horn coming from the way we were heading. Out of the gloominess emerged a scooty, ridden by another woman( I wouldn' t had figured it out if her hairs had been tied up), heading steadily towards us. The scooty stopped right in front of us. "Quick, Asmi.", the second woman asserted and the first one complied quickly by sitting on the scooty. I gave a desperate look to the second woman( helpless look; do not confuse it with the other meaning of the same word), hoping she would be as benevolent as the first woman. She was looking at me with suspicious eyes, probably thinking me as a thief( which was quite believable by the way I was looking at that time). The first woman murmured something into the second woman's ears which turned her suspicious look into that of pity. She signalled me to sit on the scooty and I complied happily.
We were about to reach the highway when suddenly I looked at the rear view mirror of the scooty. Though the skies were getting dark, I was very sure that what I had saw was a lady in white clothes waving at us.

To be continued....

Curse of the Unknown

         

                                       Episode 1

Late American President Roosevelt had said that 'the biggest fear in you is the fear to get feared'. People admit. I too used to believe it. But no more now.
It's half past twelve in night, but I am still alive, waiting for the arrival of dawn. Every passing second is seeming to be like an hour. My tireless mind is struggling to stay alive at this period of night. It doesn't matter how much you have studied, that how much modern you are, when you face harsh truths of nature which are hard to believe for a  21st century human being.
My name is Gautam Bhardwaj, a software engineer by profession and a part time writer. It all started two years ago, when I was in Pune for the publishing of my first novel. I had just arrived at the place and was straight-away heading to the main branch office of 'Sparrow Books Publishing House' to meet Mr. O.P Pathak, branch manager of Sparrow Books, Pune. My book was facing some copyright issues related to it's name( 'The Mystery Woman' it was, pretty unique as per I think). After that I needed to meet the editor myself to sort out the issue completely. My parents, especially my father is very supportive towards my art. He used to tell me when I was young that a time comes in everyone's life when a person takes a path ruled by his heart, not by wit. It is up-to destiny that whether this path leads you to the doors of  heaven or doom.
I was tired after a long and gruelling journey but I had no time to rest. I was dragging my weary legs towards the bus stand which was overtly crowded. The strike of the taxis and autorikshaws further aroused resentment in my weary soul. But despite of all this I was determined to reach my destination.The breezy weather was the only relief for me at that time. though the place was densely crowded, but still it wasn't noisy. Most of the people were seeming to be IT Professionals( as I guessed looking at their dress code) and I felt secured to be along with the people of my community. Barring two or three of them, I found the overall crowd the most decent one I had ever saw in my life. My tireless mind began to compare the crowds of Delhi and Pune, their contrasting characters and attitude and stuff like that. My heart got filled with appreciation for the people of Pune for such a fine display of discipline at a heavily concentrated place.
But the pull of my praises got thrashed as soon as the bus arrived. The sober looking crowd mobbed the bus even before it stopped. The conductor was thrown out of the bus and the driver saw himself seated along with two old fat ladies. I was too weak and tired that I was thrown down on the ground. To prevent further damage to my tired body, I secluded myself from the crowd and went on to watch that mad rush from a safe distance.They were screaming, abusing, fighting with each other and were making me wonder that why the hell I called them sober and  sophisticated.
The bus got jam packed and was about to leave the station when I heard somewhere from the crowd that it was the last bus that had arrived at this stop. Before I could think over it, I found myself running towards the bus. Luckily, I saw some standing space available and I took no time to capture it. Though only half of my body was inside the bus, I found myself lucky that I was about to meet the purpose of this errand.
After some terrible shaking and hiccups, the bus got started. I was holding the bar near the door so as to prevent falling off again. The bus was slowly gaining pace when I heard someone screaming to stop the bus from behind. I turned around to see the person. But in the process I lost my grip over the bar and once again I found myself on the road. I got a cut on my right elbow and it started bleeding profusely. Suddenly I felt somebody's presence near me. I turned around to see the person. She was a girl, or woman I say, the same one who was screaming to stop the bus.
"Excuse me, are you all right?"
TO BE CONTINUED.........

Welcome!!

Late American President Roosevelt had said that 'the biggest fear is the fear for getting feared'. 

Believe it or not, it's true.

How will you react if you come to know that the person sitting next to you is not a mortal being? That the person is made up of flesh and bones but with no spirit?

Read the experiences of Gautam Bhardwaj, who unintentionally becomes a part of the world of undead in my first blog, 'The Curse of the Undead'.