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Tuesday, 7 April 2020


Read the previous part here
Nisha continued, 'It was one of those hot, arid afternoons sweltered by the unmerciful sun. There was no wind and I felt if I stayed in the oven like hot house I would be baked into a cookie. Mama had taken the elder children to a fair in the nearby village. I was not taken because the temple was far away and I was considered too young to traverse the rocky trek to the temple. Bored at home, my feet drew me towards the mango grove. Mama's haveli stood brooding at the end of the village, with practically no neighbours. There was a barren sloppy patch of gravelly land behind it and then the two feet crumbling brick compound covered with wild ferns and ugly blue-green algae that announced the arrival of the mango grove. There was no soul in the sight. The mangoes though sweet and delicious, were of a local variety, whose skins remained green even when they were ripe and which didn't last for more than a day once plucked from the trees. Due to low shelf life they had no demand in the market. Obviously, the orchard was not well kept. Nothing could be heard except for the sound of the leaves that crumpled beneath my feet and an occasional chirping of the cricket. A heady fruity smell, emerging from the overripe fruits which had fallen from the branched, had enveloped the environs. The floor would be strewn with hideous looking smashed mangoes. Their pulp and seed had been forcefully ejected due to the fall. I felt they looked like intestines which had come out of the body. Years, latter when I studied medicine I realized my comparisons where not far fetched. I was meandering through the garden, carefully avoiding the crushed mangoes and at the same time looking the branches for the right mangoes when I saw it was there hanging from a branch, upside down. My throat turned dry and my skin paled. I wanted to run away from the place but I couldn't as if like boulders were attached to my legs. I felt shortness of breath and fell dizzy. It was after sometime when my aunt came searching for me that I was discovered and taken home. It was a sunstroke, the elders concluded and poured pots of water over my head. But I can confidently say it was the result of fright caused by the sighting of the ghost.' Even while she was narrating the incident, her voice choked, she clutched the arm rest of the sofa. She had relived the dreadful experience.

'I don't believe in this stuff. It was a rumour spread by the elder boys to keep the girls away.'
'But Di I had seen it with my own eyes.'
'Nishu, I am right when I say that you haven't yet grown up.' Sulabha said and that was the end of the discussion.
'You are a doctor. Yet you believe in such things?' Vinay asked Nisha the next morning when they had been for the morning walk.
'Yes, that is because being a doctor I know the limitations of science. There are many things which are still beyond human comprehension.'
'Should we tell Sulabha about it?'
'No. Both of us know she will not believe us.'
'Are you sure you saw it?'
'Obviously, Vinay she was there. Draped in a white saree, with a void in her eyes and long flowing jet black hair. Her sight was scary.'

Nisha was referring to the incident which had happened the previous night. Sulabha had left the room after brushing aside Nisha's ghost encounter. Nisha and Vinay continued sharing experiences well up to the midnight. When the clock struck twelve, Nisha went inside the kitchen to have water. Vinay stretched his legs and scratched his forearm. The chandelier which was tied above his head tinkled and then it plummeted down and was above to fall over his head. That is when Nisha resurfaced from the kitchen and the chandelier miraculously it stopped just a few inches above Vinay's head. Vinay looked up. The woman in the white was standing on the first floor was holding the chandelier with her stretched hand. His gaze shifted down and he could see a horror-stricken aghast Nisha standing in front of him. When he got up from his seat the woman had disappeared and the chandelier was back in its place.
'Wasn't I telling you that I find this place eerily familiar to Mama's haveli. Something needs to be urgently done.' Nisha said hitting her palm with the fist of her other hand.
'There is nothing like life and death. Even the Bhagwat Gita says that the sould discards the old body and enters a new one. But all souls are not that lucky. Sometimes the soul leaves the old body even before the new vehicle is ready.' Mauli spoke. He was a healer. Five feet two inch tall and slender, a long tika on his forehead just above his prominent sharp nose, Mauli was extremely agile for his age.

'How does that happen?' Nisha asked.

'Strange are the strokes of destiny. Some people die an unnatural death, a death before the predetermined time like death by suicide, accident and murder, and in such cases the new body is not ready. So the soul lingers bound by past relationships and unfulfilled desires.'

'If that is the case why can't all of us see them?' Nisha continued the conversation while Vinay kept quiet.
'The way all intelligent chaps don't become doctors, everyone cannot see those living on the other realm of life.'
'I... didn't understand.'
'Can you share you date of birth, birth time and place?' He asked.
When Nisha and Vinay gave him the requisite details, he tapped the buttons of his laptop and inserted the details into a software. Their kundalis emerged on the screen. He carefully read the charts and then said. 'Thought so...' His eyes were still upon the laptop screen and we couldn't gleam what he was saying.

'You belong to the rakshas gana and that's the reason.' I was about to say something when Nisha pressed my hand and gestured me to keep quiet.

'We all are divided into three ganas Rakshas, Dev and Manushya. It has nothing to do with the gods and demons. It is just a classification, the way we classify blood groups. Out of these three groups only those with Rakshas gan can see the spirits.'
'Doctor can you answer why a O positive patient can receive blood only from a O positive donor. These are the mysteries of life for which there are no answers.' 
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Read my short read My Spiritual Journey 

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