Professor Himadri recently got his posting to a remote village, Chapal Ghata, in Mednipur and he was allotted a small two-room accommodation in the university premises. It was the only university in the entire village and he had to leave his most comfortable life in Calcutta and his basha in one of the elite localities of the city.
The place was a gloom, a metaphor for melancholy and despair. People talked about the village and before he packed his stuff, Himadri Roy was earnestly warned not to step foot in such a grisly place in the entire world, but he had no say in the higher official’s decision. He was one of the best teachers of science and the faculty in Mednipur village had somehow started leaving the university one after another. There were rumours of every type, people believed the village had been cursed. Going from riches to rags, every household was becoming the epitome of the downfall of their once glorious legacy.
“Himadri, so you are leaving tomorrow?” Bidhan Chandra, one of his close friends, had asked with an anxious face.
“Hmm”, Himadri nodded, still packing his bags. “The good news is the university officials have assigned a cook for me; I am so relieved to know this.”
“Stay safe dear friend, I am really worried about you. You know there are so many stories about that place. I would suggest you think once more, nothing is more precious than life, my friend.” Bidhan objected to his happiness, warning him one last time.
“Are you out of your senses, Bidhan? Since when did you start believing in things like that? We are science teachers, remember?” Himadri explained, slightly agitated by his friend’s remark.
“All right, I know you won’t listen, go ahead then, but something is beyond science’s explanation, and sometimes it’s better to leave those things as they are! Promise me that you won’t turn back to the sobs of a woman at night time if you are ever alone in that area,” his friend presaged.
“What on earth, Bidhan, are you even aware of what just came out of your mouth, and what’s this with no turning back and listening to a woman’s sobs? Am I going there for flirting or for a fling? I am a professor, for God's sake and I will keep my nose in my business only,” Himadri opined.
“Very well then, my dear friend…good luck with this new tenure,” Bidhan said with a strange cloud of concern sitting over his face, which Himadri did notice but soon the mood in the room became light with music, food and discussion over many topics.
Bidhan bid him adieu the next evening and prayed inside his mind that his friend remained safe.
***
The train reached on time after some three hours at night and he noticed that the Raghunathbari station seemed the most secluded place on earth. Himadri felt slightly disappointed, he was not expecting a welcome like this. Yet, it was the last station and he had to get off the train. He picked up two of his big suitcases and one shoulder bag and began moving towards the exit when suddenly an aged man with his torso covered in a warm shawl, a dhoti below, lantern in one hand and a lathi in the other, asked whether he was the new professor? Himadri nodded and felt some relief. Finally, someone had come to fetch him. The elderly man immediately took the bags from his hands but looking at his age Himadri insisted that he would carry one and did not give his shoulder bag either.
The old man agreed and sighed with a smile. “Come, Sahib, I am your caretaker, I will be happy to serve you as well.” The man seemed jovial and there was something noticeably pleasant about his personality. Himadri nodded again and asked his name. “Everyone here…calls me Poltu or Poltu Da, Sahib…but my good name is Poromdev Roy.” He chuckled and, at that moment, Himadri noticed that he had two teeth protruding from his upper lips like a rabbit tooth and he almost burst into a wave of laughter rising from his belly, which he carefully controlled soon.
“Sahib, we have to hurry…let’s move a little faster. The tonga is waiting outside the station.” Poltu’s expression suddenly changed from humorous to gloomy in one instant and he began walking with real swift steps. Himadri quietly followed him; he had some idea already about the place as his friend had warned him a day before. At this hour he felt it would be wise only to reach home safely as the place seemed quiet and remote and it was really late at night too. There was no point in asking questions at that time or even judging the fear in his caretaker’s eyes.
They reached home after an hour, moving from the sideways of the paddy fields. It was a full moon night and the whole path and the fields were bathed in the silver light of the luminescent moon seeming to loom just over their heads, it looked that big! Himadri was enjoying this view but he noticed that there were signs of fear and a sudden rush on the face of both his caretaker and the tonga driver. They were too busy trying to make it home. Once they reached, the tonga driver pleaded to sleep over that night there. Poltu, who seemed relieved now, happily agreed. He gave him a charpoy on the verandah inside the house and asked him to sleep there.
“Sahib, this way, now it’s all good. We are finally home safe and sound.” Poltu grinned, holding the lantern closer to his face. Himadri noticed he had a fair number of creases on his face, but his outside gestures and energy levels were surely not a match for his face. He seemed extremely elated to be serving the new professor and after plating the hot dinner, Poltu made sure that his sahib finished the big copper bowl full of payas as well, which he had especially prepared for his welcome.
Himadri ate to his heart’s content and gave a big smile to Poltu after finishing his meal. “Poltu Da, I have to admit your cooking is better than my mother’s. Guess I won’t miss her after all!"
Poltu blushed even in that lantern-lit room and told him after a hearty laughter, “Sahib, all the other sahibs loved my food. I was always blamed for making their tummies round from flat.”
The two of them broke into laughter. “Sahib, now you must take rest. Tomorrow is the first day at the university and you must not feel tired. Get some good sleep.” Saying this, Poltu left the room and Himadri closed it from the inside.
***
The next day there was a petite welcome to the college with a few staff members and barely some nine or ten students in the class on day one and then the days afterward remained like that only. Himadri remained skeptical about the fact that the place, the village and the vicinity, seemed more secluded than he had thought it would be. He could hardly see people in the college except for some regular staff and students. He tried to decipher this unique cause and asked almost every single person in the university, but the answer was the same. It was a small village and had no better future and opportunities left, so people were abandoning it and moving toward the city. Everyone feared to talk about the real reason.
Himadri could not understand this fact. Though few, the students seemed bright and keen to learn yet remained apprehensive to stay back and join him for the evening classes which he insisted he would do without any monetary advantage as the syllabus was lagging extremely behind the scheduled part that needed to be covered that semester.
Everyone seemed in a strange hurry post lunch to get back home and if it was after five anywhere, he would see people behaving in a strange pattern. They would go out in groups, with big bamboo lathis and lanterns lit in their hands. Tongawaalas strictly said "no" after dark, refusing to move a muscle away from the pucca roads towards his house, which was slightly far from the university and in the lap of a forest.
“I am really not coming to terms with the strange behaviour of people around here, Poltu Da! Everyone seems to be in a sudden haste to get back home after five. Not even the tongawaalas or the
rickshaw pullers appear concerned to make a penny more. I tried to offer them a little extra than they asked but listening to this area in the jungle, they all behave as if they will see a ghost or something! I mean who does that, we are living in the modern era, and people still believe in such orthodoxies,” one evening Himadri confessed his sadness to his caretaker.
“Sahib, this is still a small village, and this part of the land is less visited by men. We are thankful to those who stayed back, else the numbers in which people started leaving this village, I feared that one day it would stand as a derelict village holding its history silently in its gut.” Poltu’s face became morbid while serving dinner to Himadri.
“What happened here Poltu Da, why do people fear the dark here so much? Is there any story or just those old wives’ tales?” Himadri asked with a curious face looking quietly at Poltu’s serious face which he had never seen thus before.
“O Sahib, I totally forgot to tell you that you have an invitation from the Rajbari tomorrow. One of their servants came in the morning after you left for the university today. Boro Babu has invited you to his house tomorrow. Your dinner has been arranged there; they want to welcome you and meet you in person.” Poltu immediately changed the topic and gave a piece of news that he felt was more important for Himadri to know instead of the answer to the dreadful question that he had asked.
“Boro Babu, who is this now? Why has he invited me?” Himadri asked while masticating on his coastal dinner.
“Boro Babu is a nobleman, who takes care of all the funding of this small town, Sahib. But snobbish at his core, his head is held high always…for his affluence and impact on this small town. He wishes to keep the control in his hands only and is careless about his grandeur. He is the godfather of Chapal Ghata,” Poltu explained.
“Why would I go to their house then… Poltu Da? I don’t like such a nip of arrogance a little bit.” Himadri explained with a crooked brow.
“Sahib…you mustn’t say ‘No’, he is like the law and order here, I wouldn’t want you to take his wrath upon you for any reason. Besides, he is respectable towards people like you...” Poltu tried to convince Himadri.
“Hmm… all right then, I will go,” Himadri said with a dubious expression. He was still not convinced.
“Bhalo Kotha… (good thing). There will be a wagon arriving for you sharp at 5 pm in the evening. You take rest now Sahib…tomorrow is going to be a long day for you.” Poltu lifted all the copper utensils over a large tray and left the room.
“O Maa Durga…rokkha korish amar Sahiber (O goddess Durga…protect my Sahib),” he was babbling as he walked past the huge verandah from Himadri’s room to the other part of the house.
***
The wagon arrived right on time; it was a box-like chariot and clearly showed the affluence of its owner in one glance. The horsemen asked him respectfully to get inside. Himadri was all decked up in traditional attire wearing an embroidered kurta, pairing it up with a silk dhoti and white leather flip flops. He was a good looking man with a tall frame, robust body and big eyes that had a sudden charm about them.
The wagon stopped a little far from the premises. It was beginning to get darker and the wagon driver requested him to get down and walk the rest of the path.
The horseman now seemed in a strange hurry and warned him, “Sahib, please hurry…it’s a ten-minute walk only to Raghunathbari, I can’t go any further. Please… do not turn back in case you hear any woman’s voice calling out for you or her sobs.” Saying this, he left.
Himadri stood there for a while watching the wagon disappear slowly into the oblivion of dusk and the sounds of the horses’ feet faded too into a strange void that was enveloping the whole area. It was completely silent, there was not a single soul to be seen. As far as his eyes could go, he only saw paddy fields stretching to the farthest parts of the lands.
He then turned and started walking leisurely when all of a sudden he recalled the same warning by his caretaker Poltu Da about not looking back if a woman called out to him. Himadri was not the type who would believe in such things but the vibe of this place was surely ominous and he felt it was settling inside him, making each foot heavier by the ton. He felt some uneasiness and tried to walk fast. While moving towards the Zamindar Bari he felt a little disappointed that no one had come to get him or even welcome him, because he was an invitee there and their dinner guest.
At one moment he felt like going back, but there was something that stopped him from turning back. He kept walking, it was getting slightly darker now, and he was walking with various thoughts wavering inside his mind when his eyes suddenly fell on the figure of a woman who seemed to be coming closer to him.
He noticed that she was a beautiful young woman, all decked up in gold ornaments, necklaces draped till her bosom, bangles jingling, making the air filled with their soothing noise and anklets clinking with her each step. She was wearing silk whose sheen almost blinded his eyes. She looked like a goddess on earth as she walked past him with her wavy tresses flowing like a rivulet. Their eyes met and Himadri felt his heart almost stop for a moment seeing such an ethereal beauty in this small town. But he noticed her face was intense and her blue eyes were somewhat wet.
Everything happened so fast, that he could not understand anything about who she was, only he saw her moving in the direction of the woods. Himadri stood there for a while, then walked again. He reached the huge villa and saw Boro Babu himself standing there on the porch with two darwaans holding big lathis and lamps in their hands.
Himadri could easily recognise him as he was just the way Poltu Da had described him, tall, stout and royalty sitting on his face and dripping from every inch of his demeanour.
“Nomoskar…I am Prof. Himadri Banerjee, an…” He greeted but before he could say any further the mighty man interrupted him midway.
“I know who you are! Come inside, Professor. It’s going to be dark soon and we have some bad reputation about this place.”
Himadri was really taken aback by such an uncouth welcome…yet he did not have the heart to unfollow his words. He listened to him quietly and got inside the Raghunathbari. The place was all grandeur and imperial with chandeliers and lanterns lit in every nook and corner making the house brimming with light. Every part of the house spelled magnificence and opulence yet there was a strange stillness and hollowness that felt unbearable and heavy on Himadari’s chest.
“Nomoskar Professor. I am Rudronath Bhaduri, a descendent of my Raghunath clan. This house was built in 1756 under the able guidance of my great-grandfather. A 100 years now and it still stands strong on its pillars of grandiose.” The old lad now seemed polite and respectable towards Himadri and greeted him well with a handshake.
Himadri felt at ease now. He was made to sit in the humongous living area where there were plenty of sofas, armchairs, coffee tables and expensive carpets. Himadri was soaking in the air of an extremely kingly environment when all of a sudden Boro Babu said something he did not expect at all.
“Professor, I have heard a lot about you, in fact, I have seen you personally for so many days and I feel that you can save us and this town from its present condition. It’s been cursed…you see, by none other than our own daughter. I would be happy if you marry her and take her away from this place. This way the curse would be lifted too and perhaps she can have a better life as well.”
“But how can I marry your daughter; I barely know her…for that matter, I barely know you and anybody in your family,” Himadri said with suspicion in his voice, feeling infuriated too.
“I understand Professor, but you can take your time arriving at a decision. You have two days and I would be happy to make you my son-in-law. You see, our daughter, Hiranmayi, has not been liked by most of the suitors that came, but she has liked you. And this made me happier knowing that she has a liking for a man like you,” Boro Babu said with an intense face.
“My apologies, Sir, but it would be difficult for me to make the decision so fast. I have a family back in the city and they need to know about my decisions regarding my marriage.”
Himadri had become softer now on knowing that a girl secretly liked him and he blushed from inside. Also, inside his mind, he felt that it was the same young woman he had met outside before coming to this place and this made him feel good about the whole situation now.
“Of course…I understand Professor. Come, let’s have dinner. We can talk a little more over food and some wine. I hope you do prefer drinking.” Boro Babu seemed convinced in his tone and held Himadri by the shoulders, walking him toward the enormous spread that was laid on the table.
Only the two of them and one woman who was in a veil had dinner along with them. She remained quiet all the time. Himadri could only see her jewelled hands that were delicate as a jasmine bud. She smelt nice, her fragrance even overpowered the coastal and Mughlai dishes that were served on the fine bone china utensils.
She ate and asked permission in a low voice which made it clear that she was the Zamindar’s daughter. Boro Babu nodded and she left the two of them with the sound of her anklets clinking, which again reminded him of that woman whom he had met only a few hours ago outside the house, running away from it in sudden haste.
After the dinner was over and they were served sweet betel leaves for chewing, Himadri could no longer control his curiosity and asked the Zamindar, “Boro Babu, is there any woman in your house who had left in a troubled mood? Forgive me if I have asked the wrong question, but she seemed quite upset and was crying. I saw her moving towards the woods, has she come back? I mean it’s too dark outside and it won’t be safe for a woman to stay out there late at night.”
“You must have seen somebody else, Professor, no woman from our house steps outside without permission” Boro Babu replied with gusto.
“But she was coming from the direction of your house only,” Himadri further added.
“Professor…it’s late. Your room has been prepared for your rest. You must go and have a good night’s sleep. One of my men will drop you to the college tomorrow.” The Zamindar immediately changed the flow of the conversation and commanded.
Himadri could only nod in approval and quietly followed the maidservant who showed him to his room.
“Don’t stray here and there in the night. This place is not safe in the dark, especially for a good looking young man like you. And if you hear something, just keep your eyes and ears shut,” the elderly maidservant warned him, who had an uninteresting expression on her aged face, in her loud and cantankerous tone.
Himadri could nod only this time as well.
“Phew…strange house, strange people!” he mumbled with a huff coming out from his mouth.
***
Himadri’s sleep got interrupted by an ominous crying of a woman and he woke up fully to his senses. He got down from the bed, came out of his room and to his surprise the whole house was enveloped in deep sleep and no one could hear those sobs. It was past midnight and he came down the stairs and started walking towards the main door that was already ajar. He felt hypnotised by those sobs and could not stop his feet from moving in that direction. He came out of the house and started walking towards that voice. It brought him towards the woods and unknowingly he kept moving one step after another, completely transfixed by those soft, friable sobs of a woman.
He noticed there was a woman near the pond who was sitting with her back towards him, all covered in black flowing silk attire. Her tresses were longer than a serpent, flowing in the eastward direction. She was sobbing continuously when all of sudden she stopped, hearing the voice of Himadri asking why she was crying!
“Because I am sad,” she replied in a portentous voice.
“Can I help you in any way,” Himadri asked, moving a little closer towards her.
“Are you sure you want to help me because no one has ever done that?” She laughed an evil laugh saying this.
Himadri, who was still transfixed with no expression on his face, nodded and said most innocently," Yes… I will try my best" and moved closer to that woman.
“Alright then, I will see how you help me.” Saying this, she started turning towards Himadri slowly and before he could see her face, a woman’s hands came from behind and turned Himadri towards herself. His trance broke down and he was back to his sanity. He saw that same beautiful woman who was running away from the Raghunathbari standing in front of him, all adorned in beautiful jewellery and expensive silk and smiling at him. All of a sudden, she filled herself into his embrace. Himadri, who had already lost his heart at that very moment when he saw her, put his arms around her and they stayed like that for some moments.
“I’m Hiranmayi, daughter of the zamindar”, she said softly, still in his embrace.
“I feel like I have known you for ages. I didn’t know this night would make me meet my soulmate.” Himadri’s heart was filled with mixed emotions.
“Let’s head back home…Babu must be worried.” She showed some worry on her face saying this.
“Why was I here…I don’t remember exactly. I think …I heard someone's voice and was following it.” He was about to turn towards that woman whose sobs he had heard a few seconds ago when Hiranmayi stopped him from seeing the face of that woman.
“Don’t look back, hold my hands. I will be your wife forever…look at me, my dearest.” Her words had magic spilling from it and felt like music to his ears.
Himadri nodded. While Hiranmayi was looking straight into the eyes of Alakshmi, her malevolent shadow still standing behind Himadri, she could see the anger in her eyes. She had lured many men who came as suitors and they were never found again. They simply disappeared. She was staring back at Hiranmayi with anger in her red eyes, her bosom going up and down and her sharp nails and teeth seemed hungry for her prey. Soon she vanished into the thin air.
Himadri and Hiranmayi both came walking towards the house hand in hand. Boro Babu who was standing at the portico with a worried face seemed more than elated seeing both of them like this.
He was relieved when Himadri told him that he would be happy to take Hiranmayi along with him in the morning itself. They would go to the city and get a court marriage done. The Zamindar readily accepted and so it happened. In the morning, while Hiranmayi was leaving along with her husband-to-be, she took one last glance at the house and towards her father. He immediately folded his hands and lowered his head as if he was asking for forgiveness.
Alaskhmi, the darkest shadow of Hiranmayi, too followed her and all the people in the Raghunathbari could see it leaving the house. They all heaved a sigh of relief; they wanted this to happen but they could not imagine it would happen overnight. Boro Babu was happy on his side for his daughter had liked someone in the form of her husband for the first time. He wished both of them well from the heart.
***
December 29,1863. Poltu was serving dinner to Goutam Roy, the new Science Professor in the university and his new sahib to take care of. Goutom demanded to know the story further.
“Poltu Da, tell me what happened after that night when Professor Himadri left this village overnight?” The young professor asked in such eagerness that was making him blush.
“Theirs was a true love story sahib…my Himadri Da was a hero for this town. He saved us all from Alakshmi. She was the night spirit who was Hiranmayi’s shadow herself and haunted this town on each night of Amavasya. Her sobs had lured many men and they were never found.” Poltu started the story again which he told him each night in bits and parts.
“Legend says, Boro Babu, who couldn’t control his wealth because of the negligence of his riches, was cursed that if his habits didn’t change, he would have an Aulokkhi taking birth as his daughter. It’s believed… she immediately grew up into a woman in fifteen days and sixteenth night, exactly on the day of Amavasya. No one knows her exact age.” Poltu further added.
“But beneath her darkness, her mother saw Hiranmayi…the true Lakshmi who could bless them. It was because of her good conduct, her prayers and obeisance towards her that she could make Hiranmayi remain on the surface more and so Alakshmi became her shadow, but she followed her wherever she went. Raghunathbari was spared because of her mother and Hiranmayi, otherwise their doom was assured.” Poltu kept on telling the folklore believed by the locals there.
“And on nights of Amavasya Hiranmayi was seen by many running towards the woods because of her disregard still by Boro Babu who never cared, wasting the riches of his forefathers, and it was believed, in the woods only her shadow went on each night of Amavasya and became the night siren luring men towards her.” Poltu now got up as the young professor had finished his dinner.
“But what happened to Professor Himadri and Hiranmayi then, if she had left with him forever? Did the curse get lifted too from the Raghunathbari? And what about Zamindar Babu? Did he mend his ways and habits?” Goutam asked with much curiosity.
“I will tell you the rest of the story tomorrow…it's too late now. You must sleep, Sahib.” Poltu seemed in a hurry.
“I really want to hear this last part, Poltu Da… else I won’t be able to sleep.” Goutam insisted and pulled Poltu Da’s hand making him sit in the armchair inside that room.
“Hiranmayi was a true beauty…a goddess on earth, but her shadow… I too have seen her lurking wherever Hiranmayi went. It raises the hair on my entire body to even talk about her any further. Himadri Sahib left the village with Ma Hiranmayi. They even took blessings from me. No one has ever heard about them after they left, but once I did receive a letter from Sahib, saying that he was happy with his new life and Ma had blessed him with abundance. Why wouldn’t it be? Himadri Sahib had a heart of gold and Ma saw that.” Poltu kept saying that many times, wiping his somnolent eyes with one end of his cotton dhuti.
“But you didn’t tell me, is the curse over…? I mean, does the night siren still wander into those woods?” Goutam was becoming curiouser and curiouser.
“Why yes…Raghunathbari is lifted from its curse! Boro Maa still does three times obeisance with great care to keep the wrath of Alakshmi at bay. Hiranmayi left alone…her shadow never left this town, but the only good thing that has happened is that no one has heard the night siren’s sobs after that night and Boro Maa and Boro Babu both take care of her like their own daughter. No one is allowed in that room. People say only Boro Ma and Boro Babu can enter that room of prayer and they feed her with their own hands. The best thing is that he has mended his ways as well, and after that night no one has seen or heard the night siren’s sobs. Alakshmi is after all Lakshmi’s shadow.” Poltu replied with a relieved face.
Goutam could not understand whether to believe the story or not, but one thing was clear in his mind, if it were true then the love Hiranmayi was receiving from Himadri and the prayers her shadow Alakshmi was offered each day by the Zamindar Bari would not bring the wrath of the night siren ever on this town or on anyone! He still wondered though, could goddesses be real after all and live like humans on earth?
Disclaimer:
This is a fiction tale, though the reference I have taken from a story that I heard from one of my uncles in my childhood days and he claimed it was a true story. Keeping that idea in my mind, I have woven this short story. The names of the places are real, but none of the incidents taking place in the story are real, as I believe it to be a folklore. Kindly read in that light only.
Glossary:
Dhuti: The dhoti, worn over the lower waist and drawn up in between the legs, is a 5-yard-long piece of woven fabric;
Lathi: a long stick made of bamboo;
Darwaan: a guard or gatekeeper;
Alokhi: Alakshmi also known as Kalahapriya and Daridara, and the shadow opposite of Lakshmi.
Story from the Anthology 'When Goddesses Walked The Earth' we published last year. Available through the link below...
For reading the other authors' stories, you can pick a copy from the link below
Monalisa Joshi is a publisher, author, poet, writer, Digital Content Creator and Graphic Book Designer. She runs her Contemporary Publishing House under the name Chrysanthemum Chronicles from New Delhi/ India and she has a literary platform with the same name on Facebook with many seasoned writers and poets who keep writing for the books, anthologies and journals that she brings out more often. Many of the unique and brilliant titles are in the making and pipeline, to be turned into physical books soon under her publishing house’s initiative called -The Great Book Project Initiative.
‘Demigods Are Alive’, a collection of six long and short stories, which is her debut in fiction, has been brought out under her banner only. Apart from this, she has two poetry books to her credit from different publishing houses. Last year, she won the Critic Space Literary Award for being on the list of the top 100 best Indian authors. She confers many awards and prizes from her publishing house to many writers and poets every year for various virtual writing and literary events that she commences through her website and Facebook group page.
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