Curse of the Unknown

                                                       Episode 5

We rushed for the aid of the old man and resurrected him back on his wheelchair. He was so old and frail that it actually seemed that had I held him a little tighter, his bones would have crumbled into pieces. Asmi went to the washbasin and brought a water soaked towel to clean up his face. While she was busy with her work, I noticed that the dragonflies were still clung to his neck. It must be so painful for him, I thought, being bitten by one myself. But to my surprise, she cleaned up his face and hands, but not his neck. I wanted to tell her about the same, but soon dropped the idea, thinking that she might not like me intervening. But still I asked, however, in a different manner-

“Do you need any help?”

“No, its fine.” , she replied.

She looked so calm and composed which seemed so odd to me. Her grandfather, though he had not sustained any visible injury, looked every bit shaken and afraid. His body was completely paralysed, except for his left eye. The randomness, with which its pupil was moving gave me enough evidence that he was afraid, instilled with a fear which, out of my knowledge, was approaching me slowly.

The dragonflies were still there, fondling with his long scattered hairs and drilling his impaled skin with their stings. This had become unbearable for me now.

 “I think you forgot to clean up over there.”, I said to Asmi, with my finger pointing towards the old man’s neck.

“You don’t need to tell me how to take care of him, Gautam.”, said she in her very own sardonic tone and swept the towel across his neck.

I cursed myself and decided to head back to my hotel. And somehow fortunes were on my side that day. The bus was standing right in front of me when I reached the bus stop. Its fore tyres had got punctured (fortunately). It was within few minutes after I arrived that the bus was ready to go.

It wasn't crowded as I had seen it two days ago. Although I didn't got a seat but still I found a comfortable place to stand. The driver fastened the bus towards the highway as the skies grew darker.

The whole forest seemed alive by the constant bustling of monkeys, jumping from one branch to the other. The trees danced in ecstasy as the birds enchanted their melancholies. A flock of crows dashed just over the roof of the bus, hindering the already emaciated light from entering the forest. The situation was scary, but I wasn't, being with so many people at that time. And surprisingly though, they weren't afraid either. I was standing very close to the ticket collector. So I asked him, “Aren't you afraid of this place?”

“Yes, I am.”, he replied in a carefree manner, “But not now with so many people around. That witch never haunts a public transport. It is only seen by individuals.”

He was right. I didn't see any sign of that apparition throughout the path.

This became a routine for me. My mornings spent travelling to Asmi’s house; noons remained engaged in candid conversations (along with a hot cup of black coffee) over my book and other stuff; and my evenings witnessed the spooky Pagdandi Marg with not so spooky incidents.

It was my last day in Pune. I was busy trimming my beard and plucking out the white hairs from my head. Usually there are just four to five, but this time the count was as much as twenty hairs. I looked at my sullen eyes, and pondered over the plausible reasons for all this. And there was only one reason that justified my condition- love. Yes, I was in love with Asmi. Totally, madly, deeply. She was the woman of my dreams. Such calm and composed persona, such elegance of expressions iced with those sardonic looks (she looked very cute at the time) made me fall for her. The idea to pop up the big question against her had given me three sleepless nights. Though I was very sure that she had developed some feelings for me (as she had cried over my shoulder on our very fifth  meeting, telling me about the hardships she had faced in her life), but I was not sure that those were of love, like mine. But still I mustered all the courage inside me and decided to go ahead and propose her.

     I bought a bouquet of flowers on the way and at around 3pm I was at her house. I got late that day (due to those trimming and plucking and other grooming sessions) but still I was in no mood to leave early without asking her. I ranged the bell and there she came, dressed in a long white kurta and churidar. My heart beat raced to infinity after looking at her. She was looking the most beautiful woman my eyes had ever witnessed. Unlike the other days she had kept her hairs open, letting them being played by the canny winds. While I was enjoying this site, she was getting irritated and had just begun to tie up her hairs when I interrupted-

“Don’t do that. They are looking good. “

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she smiled coyly. With her eyes facing the floor she welcomed me inside. After some formal conversation she went inside the kitchen to make coffee. Not only her appearance but also her countenance seemed different to me that day. Her lips were stretched in a continuous smile every time I saw her. These signs further boosted my confidence and I went after her to the kitchen.

Suddenly the sky grew dark and winds stormy. She was busy in making coffee with her back facing me. I touched the left pocket of my pant to check whether the ring was there. I called out her name slowly, “Asmi.” But she didn't reply. I went near to her and called out again. She didn't reply this time either. I called her again and again but she remained frosted, busy in making coffee. I placed my hand over her shoulder and shrugged her, “Asmi!”

She turned around this time. Her hairs were scattered over her face. Suddenly the window of the kitchen burst open, letting the stormy wind peep inside. With her hairs blown away by wind, I saw her face- only to witness a dead white skin, just like the apparition I had seen on my first day in Pune.

To be continued…….