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……