by Faraaz Kazi
“She certainly has a figure worth dying for,” thought he.
She saw him staring and arched her eyes at him. “Hey mister, what are you staring at?”
“You! You look good enough to eat.”
“Help,” she cried in mock horror. “I have married a cannibal.”
Her eyes flickered over Sachin. He still looked as handsome and dashing as he had three years back. The only difference was there were fine wrinkles at the edges of his eyes. He had not put on an ounce of weight and his muscles rippled under the red Guccishirt.
“Oh, I love him so much,” she thought. Then she noticed the open bottle of beer on the table and a half filled glass beside it.
“That is very irresponsible of you, Mr. Sachin Vaswani. You are sipping beer before taking on the steep climb to Kasauli. I am of the firm opinion that you should have waited till at least Kasauli to slake your thirst.”She admonished him in mock anger.
“Come on Shikha. It's just one measly bottle of beer. Anyway, I have ordered lunch for us.You want a beer as well?”
She thought for a moment and nodded her head. “Hell! It's been a long journey and I am sure I'll not fall off the pillion.”
They giggled and joked like teenage lovers as they made their way through lunch. Sachin pulled his feet out of his shoes and ran his right foot up Shikha's legs and caressed her thighs with his toes below the table, their act covered by the tablecloth. She let him do that for a while until his toe clambered upwards nearing the dangerous territory between her legs. She sighed. And immediately straightened hoping no one had noticed.
“Stop it, Sachin. You are too old to be playing footsie,” she admonished.
“Shikha, I am feeling so happy. I really needed this break.”
“Yes darling, we should do this more often. But wait till we find a room in Kasauli.”
“Is that a promise?”
“No, it's an invitation,” she smiled.
He extended his hand over the table and she shyly took it, interlocking her fingers with his. He bent down and kissed her knuckles. She blushed away, hoping that no one had seen him do that. It reminded her of the first time they had met. Ah, it was such a long time back and Sachin's proximity made it felt as if it was yesterday.
They were soon back on the road and Shikha hugged Sachin's back as the bike roared up the serpentine roads. He again relished the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of their clothes.
'I can hardly wait till we reach Kasauli. I need this woman now!'Sachin thought, noticing the rising bulge in his pants and increasing the pressure on the throttle of his bike. The powerful engine responded with a raw surge of power and the bike zoomed uphill.
He turned his head slightly to look at her resting her head on his shoulder just before negotiating a particularly sharp hairpin bend. Before the bike could stabilize, he saw a truck heading straight at them. Pure reflex took over as he slammed both the breaks and turned the bike towards the side on the road. The driver of the truck saw them at the last moment and mouthed an expletive. He slammed the brakes hard while simultaneously turning the steering wheel in the other direction. The resultant squealing of the tires echoed all over the valley.
They looked at the towering mountains and the majestic pine trees with delight. The hillside was full of colorful dahlias that had escaped from the gardens and were growing wild covering entire swathes of the hill. Kasauli cast its spell on them as usual.
“It is still divine!” exclaimed Shikha as she took in the sight. “I could stay here for the rest of my life.”
They had no bookings and the need to find an accommodation reared its head.
“Now my Knight in shining armor, how do you propose to accomplish the task of finding us a room to stay?” Shikha arched her eyebrows at her husband.
“Don't worry, sweetheart, I will find something!” said Sachin as they drove off towards the TV transmission tower, some half remembered story of guest houses for rent in that area in his mind.
They eventually found a small Bungalow near a local cemetery. It was a beautiful affair with freshly painted tiled roofs, two bedrooms, a kitchen and a small garden. There was an outhouse with an ancient caretaker in it. He ignored them as they approached and seemed to be a little hard of hearing, neither looking up nor responding when they talked to him. Not finding any other alternative, Sachin decided they would take up a vacant room and pay him while leaving.
“It's beautiful,” exclaimed Shikha as they settled down in the master bedroom. “I need a nap. I have not fully recovered from the shock you gave me on the highway.” Sachin, however, had other ideas. He took her in his arms, almost tearing away her shirt. With one swift motion, he unhooked her black bra. For a second, he ogled at her deep cleavage almost as if he had forgotten what his wife's bosom looked like. Without wasting any further time, Sachin pounced upon her large breasts, manhandling them. Shikha moaned, putting one hand in Sachin's hair and struggling to open his pants with the other. Soon she had in her hand what she sought and feeling her touch him there, Sachin's body experienced a mild tremor. The tremor was hardly a forewarning to the quake that was to follow.
“I'll cook dinner for you,” Sachin volunteered, as the sun went down. He messed around in the kitchen, banishing her from it as he cooked after years. At eight, he set up the dinner on the dining table, complete with a couple of candles, a rose from the garden and a chilled bottle of Himachali fruit wine. The food was not perfect but everything else was and they enjoyed the meal immensely.
They went for a walk in the moonlight after the meal and strolled hand in hand towards the cemetery, slightly tipsy from the wine. The marble tombstones shone luminously in the moonlight creating a dreamlike effect.
The Other Side
65
“It's divine,” murmured Shikha, as she snuggled up to him to ward off the chill, “I could spend the rest of my life here.”
“You will be bored out of your mind after a week of this,” he replied as they made their way back to the bungalow.
They woke up late the next morning, a rare luxury indeed.
“How about some trekking? I need some action,” Sachin said.
So after breakfast they set off on the short but steep climb one of the nearby hills. The climb was far from gentle and they had to stop halfway to catch their breaths.
“I think this idea of yours has sinister ramifications. You want me to die of exhaustion so you are free to pursue whatever nefarious designs you have,” huffed Shikha. Sachin just smiled, unable to reply as he caught his breath.
The climb proved to be well worth the effort. The top of the hill provided panoramic views of the surroundings and they could even see the distant city of Chandigarh. The descent proved to be a relatively easy affair and they made their way back to the bungalow without much of an effort.
The weather changed dramatically in the evening as dark clouds gathered and it threatened to rain. The rain came down around seven. By eight it was pitch dark, the wind howled and shrieked and the house made ominous creaking noises. The rain lashed the surroundings with unabashed fury and they sat in the small lining room enjoying the unaccustomed sights and sounds.
“It can't possibly get worse than this,” said Sachin. The moment he said this, the lights went out, plunging the room in darkness and Shikha cuddled up to him suddenly feeling afraid. Sachin hunted up the candles left over from last night and lit them. The candles flickered and spluttered sending out a feeble yellow light that cast eerie shadows in the room. And then hailstones started falling making a loud noise on the tiled roof. There was another noise reverberating through the house.
“Someone is knocking on the main door. Who can it be at this time of the night?” wondered Shikha.
“Maybe it is the blind and deaf caretaker,” Sachin said as he moved towards the door.
He opened the door and peered out in the dark. A young man dressed smartly in jeans and a leather jacket was standing, drenched as drops of water dripp
ed off his muscular body.
“I am sorry to have disturbed you at this time of the night. My name is Ranjit. I live just a couple of miles away from here. On my way back home, I got caught in the rain. I am used to walking around in the rain but then the damn hailstones started and I needed to seek shelter so I thought…”
“Do come in,” said Sachin as he ushered in the stranger.
He was reluctant to admit an unknown man at this time of the night but the fury of the elements left him with no other choice. The young man walked in and sat on a cane chair in the darkest corner of the room.
“I don't want to spoil the settee as I am soaked,” he explained his action.
“Do you want a towel?” Shikha asked feeling concerned.
The young man gave a sad smile, “Thanks Ma'm. I am all right. I love the rain and often roam around like this.”
Sachin noted that the man had a deep scar running across his forehead. The young man noticed the glance and said, “Bike accident. I drove a Bullet and the brakes snapped while I was going to Kalka last year. But I am here to tell the tale so that is good enough.”
The Other Side
67 “Aha! Another Enfield fan! We drove here on a Bullet as well.”
Sachin thawed a bit towards the young man.
“And we had a close shave on the road yesterday,” added
Shikha. “It is just providence and Sachin's skills that saved us.” “Do not forget the sturdy build of the machine. And brakes are
important too,” Sachin said.
“Yeah, brakes! I was let down by them. I survived the accident
but my parents have not allowed me to ride a bike since. One needs
to be very careful when driving around in the hills, particularly
when riding up. I think I'll come back in the morning and take a
look at your bike. Especially the brakes.”
Sachin was miffed, “I have been driving a bike for many years. I
have never had an accident before yesterday.”
“And you should not have one again,” replied the stranger,
“Learn from my experience. Just get your bike checked before
starting off on every journey.”
Shikha joined forces with Ranjit, “I did not want to come on a
bike. I wanted the car.”
“No, no, the pleasure of driving a bike is far more. Just be
careful and get the bike checked before taking on the treacherous
hill roads.”
By that time the hailstorm had petered out but the wind was
still howling in the trees.
“What a spooky night. Almost like the scary storms they show
in horror movies. It almost makes you believe in ghosts,” Sachin
said in a softer tone.
“Ghosts do exist. I believe in them. But one must understand
that all spirits are not evil,” Ranjit said, looking at him suddenly. “It
has stopped raining and I must go,” he added as Sachin stared at
him in disbelief.
Shikha intervened, “But you are soaked. Can we offer you
some hot coffee or tea may be?”
“No thanks. It is getting to be very late and I must leave.
Goodnight and thank you.”
And with a polite nod he was off.
“What a peculiar young man!” Shikha said, “Ranjit, he said his
name was, right?”
Sachin nodded.
“I wonder where I'd heard that name before,” Shikha said,
looking lost. Sachin narrowed his eyes.
“He said that he likes to roam around in the rain,”
Shikha repeated.
“Did you note that he stayed in the shadows most of the time? I
had an eerie feeling that he could read my mind.”
“Yeah, he was kind of creepy but well, you warmed to him the
moment he mentioned a Bullet.”
“Everyone who loves bikes is a friend of mine.”
“But he also said that he believed in ghosts!” Shikha replied and
they both burst into peals of laughter. Their laughter pierced the
still of the night.
The young man who liked to walk in the rain looked up. He
took a step towards the laughter, stopped and then walked away
into the darkness towards the cemetery.
The next morning dawned bright and sunny. Kasauli looked washed and scrubbed, glowing in the mellow sunlight, almost like a schoolboy on his way to school on the first day. The caretaker was busy tinkering around the lawn when Ranjit walked up to him. “NamasteChacha, I see that you are busy today.”
The Other Side
69
“ Namaste Beta. The rain has made the ground soft and I decided to do some planting today. Takes less labor, you see.”
“And have your guests woken up yet? I promised them I would take a look at their bike.”
“Which guests are you talking about? I have no one staying at this time of the season.”
“What do you mean? Isn't there a couple staying at the bungalow? I met them yesterday.”
“I don't understand what you are talking about.”
‘Chacha is getting senile,’ Ranjit thought. He added aloud, “I was in the neighborhood yesterday when it started raining and then hailstones followed. I saw a little light through the window and decided to seek shelter here. I found a young tourist couple here. They said that they had driven up here on a bike.”
The caretaker was not impressed. “Beta, you have been drinking excessively again, haven't you?”
“No Chacha, I think you are mistaken. Come, I'll show you.”
The caretaker accompanied him to the main door on his insistence but there was a huge lock on the door. “See…” he said triumphantly.
Ranjit was not willing to concede the point yet.
“Where are the keys?” He asked.
“They are in my cottage at the end of the garden but I am not going to fetch them now.”
Ranjit was still unconvinced and he insisted on getting the keys and checking the bungalow. They opened the door but there was no one in there. He even checked the windowsill for the remnants of last night's candle but could not find anything, not even wax circles. The entire house was devoid of any human presence and a thin layer of dust bore mute testimony to the fact that it had been unoccupied for quite some time.
Ranjit merely shook his head in bewilderment and made his way to the local teashop. He needed to think. While he waited for his tea, he idly turned the pages of yesterday's newspaper lying on the counter. His puzzled attention came to rest on a small news item on page seven of the paper.
'Couple on motorbike die in an accident on Kalka –Shimla road,' the headline said. Ranjit felt a tremor in his hands as he went through the sketchy news item.
A holiday turned into a tragedy for a couple when they met their end in a ghastly accident on the Kalka-Shimla highway. The couple, identified as Mr. Sachin Vaswani and his wife Shikha from Delhi were riding up the hills on a Motorcycle when a speeding truck rammed into them. The accident threw the motorcycle and its occupants into the deep valley next to the road. The driver abandoned the truck and absconded, apparently unhurt. The bodies of the couple, who, incidentally were dressed in red could be recovered only late in the evening.
“Though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil, for I am the evilest motherfucker in the valley.” ¯ Alex Garland
The Man Who Did Not Fear
N
irbhay banged his hands on the table, “No such thing as ghosts. There are either people beneath white sheets or it is some figment of their imagination.”
“So you're not scared of them?” Samir was ready with the rejoinder.
“Heck, no. What's there to be scared of something that doesn't exist in the first place? They are just old wives tales aimed at getting children to sleep.”
>
“They are better than the 'sleep otherwise Gabbar will come visiting' type threats, I suppose,” Sushant cut in and everyone laughed. As the sound subsided, Samir crossed his legs and took a large gulp from his mug of beer.
“I don't know about whether ghosts exist or not. But there is this place I was really scared of as a child,” he said.
“Tell us,” Sushant said.
“Tell him!” Nirbhay sneered, looking away.
“Hmmm, it's a palace-like mansion near our farm in Lonavala. No one has lived there since a long, long time. They say it is jinxed and any family that has lived there or at least tried to has been driven away by an unseen force. Accidents, unexplained deaths and events, you know…”
“Are you talking about the 'Moonlight mansion?'” Sushant asked suddenly.
“Yes, yes. That's the name. How do you know?” Samir questioned.
“It's quite a popular tale. It is said that whoever stayed a night there went crazy witnessing the evils that took place there,” Sushant said.
“I guess so, they say a man brutally murdered his wife and children in that cursed place before slitting his own throat and since then that place has never been the same. No one has managed to own it since twenty years,” Samir said.
“I don't think anyone ever will,” Sushant said.
“My mother never allowed me to go outside after the sunset whenever we were putting up at the farm-house. She maintains that evil lurks even in the shadows surrounding that house,” Samir said, suppressing a shiver.
“Woh-oh, guys! Relax, ghosts, evil spirits are by-products of a fanciful imagination. These are cooked up tales to usurp the property in the long run.” Nirbhay said, finally deciding he had taken enough of bull crap.
“It's an exquisite mansion, Nirbhay but cursed. I have seen it and trust me, by the looks of it I'm sure no one would want to go inside that place. In fact, I'm very sure even a person like you, who is so brave, will think twice before facing the spirit there,” Samir said.