The Cursed Inheritance

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The Cursed Inheritance Page 9

by Sutapa Basu


  ‘There he is! Can’t you see him?’ I asked, baffled.

  ‘Didi, I see nobody…nothing,’ she said emphatically, shaking her head.

  How is that possible?

  I looked back at him. The boy tossed the hair out of his brown eyes, stood up and began to stroll away. Looking over the shoulder, he gave me a small nod and kept walking till he reached the shed. He went up to the brick wall, turned to glance at me and vanished!

  18.

  I sprinted to the shed. Lokkhi mashi huffed and puffed behind me, calling out, ‘Didi! Didi!’

  When I reached the shed wall where the boy had disappeared moments back, I saw a door. Oh! He had gone through a door, not… I relaxed… and then tensed again. A large padlock hung from the door latch. It was locked.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I shuddered, thinking, was he…no, no, it can’t be….

  ‘Lokkhi mashi?’ My tone sounded harsh, possibly to drown out my own apprehensions. ‘Do you have the key to this?’ I held up the lock.

  ‘Yes, yes.’

  ‘Get it quickly,’ I directed.

  She scuttled off, speedily. I went behind the shed. Overgrown weeds clung to the brick wall nearly up to my shoulders. I scrutinised the other shed walls, but there were no openings. Where could the boy have gone?

  ‘Didi!’ Lokkhi mashi was back like lightning. She held out a single key. It unlocked the door that creaked open on a small, dark, dusty, windowless room. Light falling from the doorway revealed bulging sacks placed in high piles right up to the low roof on all three sides. In fact, there was space for only a couple of steps inside the door. The floor was layered with thick coal dust.

  I took hold of the sack nearest to me and tugged but it did not budge.

  ‘Didi, what do you want to do?’

  ‘I want to take out all the sacks. Can you get somebody from the slum to help me?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, yes. I will,’ said the resourceful woman and rushed away. I took another round outside the shed, still trying to make sense of what my eyes had seen and rejecting what my instincts were screaming. I ambled back to the tree. The finger-like shadow had withdrawn and once more the shade around the tree was a cool blob. I looked at my phone. It showed 2:30 pm. Kudos to Dadu’s incisive attention to detail!

  Lokkhi mashi came through the rear door. Behind her trailed a thin, lanky youth. He certainly did not have the brawn to lift heavy sacks of coal. ‘Who is this, Lokkhi mashi? He cannot lift these sacks.’ I grumbled, the moment she was within earshot.

  ‘This is Bultu,’ she stated, blandly.

  ‘Bultu, your son…?’ Rest of my words trailed off as my gaze fell on the youth. Dismayed, I could not look away. His lower face was hideously split into a cleft from nostrils to lips. I controlled my discomfort, as Bultu nodded his head vigorously…asserting he could do the job.

  ‘Okay.’ I led the way, resignedly. I would have to put my shoulder to the task, too.

  His mother assured me, ‘He will do it, Didi. You see.’

  Surprisingly, the young lad hefted the sacks as if he did it every day. Within an hour, all the sacks were piled outside the shed. ‘Lokkhi mashi, get me a broom,’ I instructed. Possibly, she had anticipated the demand and instantly, handed me one. Energetically, I swept the coal dust out of the door raising noxious coal clouds that made all of us cough.

  And I found just what I had expected!

  A round metal hatch was set in the cement floor. Elation flashed through me. Behind me, Bultu asked, ‘What is this, Ma?’

  I bent down to clutch the ring in the centre of the hatch firmly, while the woman explained to her son, ‘Underground room, Bultu. Secret room.’

  I pulled hard. The hatch door cranked opened a few centimetres and fell back. Of course, my shrewd grandfather had ensured a heavy iron door protected his hideout.

  ‘Bultu, help me,’ I panted. The two of us held the handle and gave a mighty heave. The door swung up and crashed to the other side nearly making both of us fall over. All three of us peered into the darkness. It was too murky, so we moved around till sunlight streaming from the shed door lit up the interior.

  The hatch was on one side of a low-ceilinged cellar. Roughly hewn into the wall on the same side were three or four narrow steps. The room did not look very big, but hardly much of it could be viewed from above. In one corner a shadowy outline of a large object was discernible. ‘I am going in,’ I declared, sitting down on the edge of the hatch.

  ‘No, Annadidi. Wait. Let me go in, first. There could be snakes or scorpions,’ said Lokkhi mashi.

  My heart was thudding violently in anticipation of finally beholding the prize. Visions of a resplendent Egyptian treasure had been illuminating my fantasies since last night and I was reluctant to share this triumphal moment. But the housekeeper’s words made me pause. True, this underground room has been shut for a long time. What if creepy things were lurking there? Armed with the broom, Lokkhi mashi clambered down while her son and I watched anxiously. Standing below the opening, she looked up and announced, ‘Empty room. Only a big box.’

  ‘Don’t touch it. Don’t touch it,’ I said, instantly easing myself down the steps. Right in front of me was a large wooden chest. At least three feet in height and length, it seemed two feet in breadth. On both sides of its slightly curved lid were antique clasps. Its appearance matched Dadu’s exact description.

  As if in a daze, I went up to it. Unfastening the clasps, I lifted the lid a little. It was filled to the brim. Holding my breath, I flung up the top. A sudden flash blinded me as a bright sunlight glanced off its contents. Even in the dreary, half-lit room, the gold coins neatly stacked in long rows gleamed. Half sunk into this precious bed, sat a large golden scarab, royally corpulent. Tweezer-like claws reaching out in an arc, it took up nearly all the expanse of the open chest. Gauging the depth of the chest, the quantity of coins filling it boggled my mind. I picked up one gold coin, turning it over. On one face was engraved a crowned head and the other face was etched in Arabic script. This really is an Egyptian treasure! I wanted to pinch myself to make sure it was not a dream.

  ‘I knew it! I knew it! Bultu, didn’t I tell you? Karta Babu was up to some mischief,’ exclaimed someone close by. Exultation tinged with vehemence underlined the words.

  Astonishment broke through my trance. Gold dust swept from my eyes as I saw Lokkhi mashi bent over the glittering hoard, muttering to herself, eyes roaming over it.

  ‘Gold! Gold! Gold! So much gold! And still that miserly man could not give a few rupees when Bultu’s Baba was dying. How much I begged! How much I pleaded! I fell at his feet but no…that man…he was as stingy as Kuber!’ Her voice was hoarse with indignant anguish. ‘At least these mohor will pay for my Bultu’s treatment…’ She reached out a hand to the coins.

  ‘No!’ I slapped her hand away.

  ‘You cannot keep all this wealth to yourself like that codger,’ she spat at me. I hardly recognised the woman whom I had known over the last few days. Lips that had smiled constantly were now snarling at me.

  19.

  ‘No. Nobody will keep it,’ I shouted, pushing her away from the chest.

  ‘Oooofff!’ she retorted, stumbling back. And then she stood stock-still. All ferocity was wiped from her eyes that were wide with horror. Her sight was locked on something on the floor behind the chest. ‘Oooo….Maaaa! What’s this? O Maaa! O Maaa! O Maa…!’ she whispered, both hands covering her mouth.

  ‘Ma! Ma! Are you all right?’ shouted her son from above.

  Quickly, I scrambled up, scanning the floor. ‘What…what is it?’ My voice quavered. Was it a snake?

  Lokkhi mashi only shook her head, pointing downwards with a trembling finger. What the heck?

  I hurried to her side. Guided by her finger, I looked down, and my throat dried up.

  With back against the chest, knees drawn up, head lolling downwards was a skeleton. It was small as if it belonged to a child. I was numb, my eyes frozen on the s
pot.

  Lokkhi mashi was the first to break the awful hush. ‘Yaksha…yaksha…,’ she whispered. Choking on the words, she uttered, ‘Poor, poor Shurjo…this is where the devil buried him. Poor, poor boy…poor, poor Kona….’

  ‘Shurjo…?’ I murmured. Doesn’t that sound like the name of the boy…or…or whatever he was?

  ‘Yes, yes. That is Shurjo,’ the woman confirmed, wiping her eyes. ‘Kona’s son…the one who went missing. We blamed the goons, but now I know. It was Karta Babu…that brute…who had kidnapped him. He must have lured the boy in here.’

  ‘How are you sure that this is Shurjo?’ I asked.

  Lokkhi mashi pointed a finger to the bony ribs. A thin gold string sparkled in the half-light. A small round pendant hung from it.

  The boy…the boy who visited me…didn’t he wear something like this? Was he Shurjo…? Crazy speculations crowded my head. I recalled how my boy visitor had persuaded me to seek the clues…removed hurdles…propelled me towards this moment… Did he want me to find this?…find him?

  ‘That Kuber…that monster!’ The housekeeper ranted ‘He killed the child. He turned Shurjo’s spirit into a yaksha who would watch over his treasure. I hope he rots in hell!’

  ‘Yaksha? Dadu killed Shurjo? What are you saying?’ I was irritated with her ravings. ‘What is a yaksha?’

  ‘Didi, yakshas are spirits who stand sentinel to treasures buried inside the earth. It is a child’s soul that has to be trapped into a yaksha’s spirit,’ she explained.

  ‘What makes you think my grandfather did such a terrible thing?’

  ‘Look at those flowers, the red marks of sindoor…the tantric ritual to convert a human soul into a yaksha has been performed here.’ She pointed to balls of dry, grey petals beside the skeleton that I had not noted before. I peered down at the uneven floor…sure enough, it was faintly smeared with pink marks….

  Suddenly, the vitriol was back in Lokkhi mashi’s voice. ‘Karta Babu buried Shurjo with his wealth believing his spirit would keep it safe from thieves. Even in death the miser could not let go of his earthly riches. What a covetous savage! But as it happens with crooks like him, fate tricked him…the foolish devil. By killing Shurjo, he spilled his own blood. Serves him right…the murderer….’ Vindictive and bitter, her accusationss spilled acid into my soul.

  Is there any more villainy left to know of my grandfather? Now he is a murderer too!

  In that instant, I knew…this was the crime Birendadu spoke of. Dadu was the criminal who committed it. Birendadu must have been coerced into silence. Not just with the oath that sealed his lips, Birendadu could have been considered accessory to the crime if he had reported it. No wonder he left Sarkar Bari in such hurry. Yet, he had regretted his inability to get justice for Kona and her son.

  Indeed, my grandfather was a monster! He had victimised everyone. Will I ever be able to wipe this slate clean, Dad?

  Hardly had this appalling reality sunk in when all hell broke loose above our heads. Yells, screams and Bultu’s howls floated down. Lokkhi mashi rushed to the hatch, calling out, ‘Bultu? Bultu?’

  Sunlight blocked out for a moment as a figure jumped in. Crouching under the hatch, a man faced me. Grim face, flint-eyed and lips clamped down. Sprouting in his right hand was a wicked, black gun aimed directly at me.

  ‘Gonuda!’ I exclaimed. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Stand aside!’ No longer amiable, a hard voice flung the command. I looked steadily at the menacing face while my brain swiftly worked out the odds. I berated myself for not being more alert. Had I led them to the treasure exactly as they planned?

  ‘You, my dear Anna will have to be silenced…,’ murmured Gonuda, softly.

  ‘Have you caught the girl?’ Kedarnath Raha shouted from outside. ‘You walloped the boy too hard. He is not moving…hope he is not dead. Hiding two bodies….’

  ‘Got her, Baba,’ called up his son.

  Desperately, I tried delaying the eventuality. ‘Gonuda, listen…we can work something out.’

  ‘Shut up,’ growled the man.

  Everything happened very quickly after that.

  20.

  Cloaked by the gloom, Lokkhi mashi had been standing quietly behind Gonuda. Now she pounced felling him to the ground. As the woman clawed wildly at his face, the gun went off. Bullets sprayed out, ricocheting across the cellar, pinging off walls, slamming into the wooden box. Instinctively, I ducked behind the chest. With both hands, I covered my head, not caring that I was lying on Shurjo’s bones. After a while, there were no more bangs. All I could hear was the sound of hard breathing and screams…painful ones.

  Cautiously, I raised my head. Nobody shot at me. Getting myself off the grisly heap, I stood up, shakily. Two figures were on the floor. One rolled around clutching his knee, screaming; probably taken a bullet. The other one was still on hands and knees. When Lokkhi mashi got to her feet, I approached her, asking, ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, I am. But you are not.’

  Her arms stretched towards meboth hands cupping the gun. It pointed directly at my heart.

  ‘Didi,’ Lokkhi mashi panted, ‘I don’t want to kill anyone, but I need this gold. It will pay for fixing my Bultu’s face. I must have a lot of money for his operation. Where will I get it? God has answered my prayers by giving me this treasure. I have cared for this mansion, for this family but they have never cared for me or my family. Annadidi, let me take this gold and I will not harm you.’

  ‘Kill her! Kill her!’ Gonuda shouted to the housekeeper. ‘Remember how Karta Babu used to belittle you…insult you? This girl is his granddaughter…of his blood. They are leeches sucking our blood. They don’t deserve to live. Take your revenge for all those years of humiliation. Kill her! Kill her!’ Even with his teeth clenched with pain, he was frenzied enough to incite the woman before rolling around the floor, groaning once again.

  I kept my eyes on the gun. Gonuda’s words seemed to be having the exact opposite reaction. Lokkhi mashi’s eyes were wavering. Hesitation flashed in them. The gun’s nozzle trembled in her unsteady hands. I felt nervous. What if her shaky finger unknowingly pressed the trigger? My heart was in my mouth.

  ‘Lokkhi mashi, listen to me,’ I spoke with a calmness that I did not feel. ‘This gold is not mine. Neither is it yours or anyone else’s. Dadu was wrong to take it. Hiding it was even worse. Killing Shurjo was evil. I am going to give this gold back to its real owners. And I am not like Dadu. I promise you….’

  ‘No, no, no. I need this gold…now… Eeeiiioooooo…!’

  Lokkhi mashi collapsed, one hand on her forehead. The gun hurled out, sliding into a far dark corner. Bultu’s scrunched up, twisted face appeared at the hatch opening. In his hand, he held the heavy metal lock which he had slammed on his mother’s head.

  I gawked at his goggling eyes that were full of tears. ‘Shurjo was my friend…,’ he whispered.

  ‘HEY! HEY! HEY!’

  Somebody hollered. More voices growled authoritatively. Steely instructions rang out. Boots pounded across tiles. Who had entered Sarkar Bari? Bultu’s face was as startled as mine must have been.

  Above Bultu’s head, another face appeared…a dark face with sharp eyes, a blue cap with insignia perched on his head. The police!

  Suddenly, I wanted to get out of the stuffy cellar. I looked back at the two supine, groaning bodies on the floor, the dismal pile of bones, and the open chest with its brilliant contents. As I struggled up the steps the officer reached down with a helping hand. ‘Thank you,’ I said, standing in the shed. Gesturing downwards, I remarked, ‘Two wounded down there but only one is a criminal.’

  ‘We will take care, Ma’am. We caught another one trying to run,’ he said. Pointing to Bultu, who was blubbering, he asked, ‘And what about this lad?’

  ‘Oh! He is harmless. He helps me around the house,’ I replied.

  I sat under the neem, observing uniforms rushing around the mansion. Evening breezes were already cooling the hea
t. I had informed the station officer about the treasure chest and its source. He gave me a declaration to sign that would permit the police to hold the treasure until it was handed over to the right government department. Whether it would be returned to Egypt or not, I had no idea nor did I care. This treasure had extracted a heavy price from my family. Quietude seeped into me, as if I had completed a mission.

  Near the rear gate, the elderly Mr Raha sat looking quite cowed, wrists cuffed. I watched Gonuda limping out of the shed, a policeman holding his arm. Lokkhi mashi and a policewoman, her son trailing behind, emerged. The sari edge was wrapped around her forehead. The station officer led them to me.

  ‘Who is the criminal here, Ma’am?’ he asked.

  Three pairs of eyes, two terrified and one enraged, focused on me. I took a full second before pointing…to Gonuda. Struggling and cursing, the culprit was dragged away.

  ‘Excuse me, Officer,’ I hailed the policeman.

  ‘Yes, Ma’am?’

  ‘How did you know what was happening here? I mean, what made you to come here?’

  ‘Well, Ma’am, it was quite unexpected. A child came to the station though children never do that. The boy was very upset…wanted us to go with him immediately. When I inquired, he said that a murder was taking place at Sarkar Bari and we must hurry.’ The officer looked around him. ‘He…he came with us… Now where did he go?’

  ‘Was he in a white kurta-pyjama…his hair uncombed…brown eyes?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ The officer acknowledged. ‘That’s the boy. Do you know him?’

  Shurjo! ‘Yes, I do. He lives here,’ I replied.

  21.

  The officer smiled and walked away. Something poked my bums. Digging into the back pocket, my fingers closed around the gold coin I had picked up. …must have slipped it in unknowingly….

  From the corner of the shed, more policemen appeared. Two of them held the chest which had been sealed and another man was carrying a small cloth bundle…Shurjo’s remains. I had requested the station officer to arrange a ritual funeral for him to which he had kindly agreed. Of course, I would be there to convey my respects to Shurjo. He was my uncle, wasn’t he? Sadness tinged the tranquillity that descended over me. I wondered what I was going to do with Sarkar Bari…certainly wasn’t going to sell it.

 

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