Having fought with my last room partner, I was on the roads and looking for a new room with a new room partner.
After checking and declining many rooms, we finally found a room of our choice. In fact, it was a big house, fully furnished over two floors, a small garden in the front, at just a meagre Rs. 1,000 per month, all to the two of us – the landlord (he lived in the city) wanted us to find more partners but apne pairon par kaun kulhadi marta hai. We never let any other person to share space with us.
I was quite happy. In our first week in the house, I would always ask my partner “Yaar, why didn’t we get this place early”.
I got the answer very soon. The sweeper accidentally blurted it out one day. The landlord’s youngest son had died in this house (out of some disease) and ever since they shifted to the city. We were the first to rent the house after some 5-6 years.
Suddenly my outlook towards the house changed. Is the house haunted?
I was afraid to go upstairs. We kept to the ground floor while the upper floor was often closed.
It was on the upper floor where the landlord had stocked his other belongings. Among these was a small portrait of a crying boy and painted in dark red, as if in blood. The caption was even more frightening – “I will come back”.
Come back to suck my blood – who knows.
In God I found succour. I became a devout with my book rack having more gods than books. This was nicely placed beside my bed so that I could instantly call the gods for any help. Rarely did I miss puja any day.
This was the only time that I dared to go upstairs (I have heard that bhoot (devils) fear gods). While I was chanting the gayatri mantra, I was worshipping Jesus Christ (Did I tell you my landlords were christians?).
However, it was not just god who was assigned my security. There were always some extras – so that they could be some help when the bhoot strikes.
Months passed and the bhoot seemed to have no problem with two mortals living along with them. Never did they strike … until one night.
There was some competition at college and my room partner had to go prepare for the competition at night. Since there was no other substitute, I insisted on going along.
When friends heard of our fear, they began to narrate some of their own experiences with bhoots. So afraid were we that we forcibly took one of the friends along with us.
Back inside the house, the partner said he isn’t afraid. It was just that he wanted to talk to this friend that he asked him to come along. I, on the other hand, never hide my fears. Yes, I am not the one who will go to the graveyard just because you have challenged my manliness.
While we made ourselves comfortable on the bed, the partner went to attend to the nature’s call. And just then it happened.
Lights went out all of a sudden.
I had seen this happening in movies and TV. I knew it was the bhoot.
It is dangerous to be inside the house on such occasions. I ran for the door. And so did the friend. But as soon as we were ready to flee, we banged on the door. What we had just opened was the mosquito trap door.
The partner, who was in the washroom, thought that we were playing a prank on him by switching off the lights.
While he was shouting from inside the washroom, we were shouting in the hall.
Finally, the front door opened and we ran out of the house shouting bhoot bhoot.
The neighbours who were already perched on their balconies and windows seemed little pleased with our idea that there’s some demon inside the house. Instead they scolded us for creating a ruckus at 1 in the night. The next day we met the landlord who was particularly aggreived at thinking badly about their dead son.
I felt bad for the landlord and slowly the fear started to fade off. I lived in the house for more than a year and the bhoot never struck.