The night was the exact night for what was about to come. It was dark and bleak. But there was also an air of danger... like something bad was about to happen. And it was a stormy night... The light rain had turned into a downpour. Somnath and Mayank were sitting in the bungalow, waiting. They were waiting for Kabir. This had become a habit recently. They both were getting used to waiting for Kabir...
"When do you think he'll be back?" Mayank asked.
"Fucked if I know..." Somnath replied.
"This is boring... why does he always do this?"
"As I said, fucked if I know," Somnath replied with a smile.
"Has the caretaker left any food?" Mayank asked. "And don't say—"
"I won't..." Somnath said, raising his hand.
He got up and went into the kitchen. He came back and shook his thumb in the negative.
"Should we go out?" Mayank asked.
"It's pouring outside. We'll get drenched..."
"Let's order some food."
"Good idea!" Mayank replied, searching around the room.
"What are you looking for?"
Mayank opened a bottom drawer in a cabinet and brought out an almost full bottle of whiskey.
"Great!" Somnath exclaimed. "Just what we needed..."
"But what about snacks?"
Somnath held up packets of crisps.
"Nice... I'll order some starters along with the food..." Mayank said.
They set up the snacks on a teapoy. Mayank got the glasses, and they were set.
"Where do you think he goes at night?" Mayank asked. "What does he do?"
"He had a good job in the company. The pay was good, the working hours were reasonable... but then he left..." Somnath replied.
Sensing that he was hiding something, Mayank pressed forward.
"Is something the matter?"
Somnath just looked at him. Taking a sip, he smiled.
"You really don't know? Or you're fishing?"
"What do you mean?" Mayank asked.
Somnath then told him about Kabir's "activities." Kabir had taken a keen interest in the occult. He was very interested in the "other world" and "things beyond."
"So he has become a ghost hunter?"
"Sort of... but he calls himself a seeker of truth," Somnath said with a smile.
Mayank smiled in return.
"I suppose we'll know when he comes back... but I have an idea on how we could pass our time..." Mayank said.
Somnath looked at him.
"We could tell each other ghost stories... it'll be fun with drinks... and then we can ask Kabir about his adventures when he comes back..."
Somnath took a sip and nodded.
"You go first..." he told Mayank.
"Have you heard about the building in which the old man lives?"
Mayank began telling the story.
There is a building in the heart of Ghatkopar. It's not a very old building, but it's not very new either. Looks very ordinary from the outside. But it holds a dark secret. There is a ghost of an old man in the building. The old man had a terrace flat and lived all alone, rarely venturing out or talking to the neighbours. He would order groceries and cook food himself. And he never had any visitors. The only thing he cared about was his terrace garden. It was a beautiful garden with some rare plants. The old man tended to it alone. So it was no surprise when he was found dead alone, a few days after his death. People tried to trace his relatives and kin but found no one. Theories started emerging, from the old man being a mafia sharpshooter to being a spy for the government. His flat remained closed, but the plants were being regularly watered.
A maid had gone to the terrace for some work. There, she saw the most beautiful rose swaying gently in the wind. It was dusk. The sun had set, and the rose looked very alluring in the evening light. The maid moved forward and was about to pluck the rose when she heard it. The old man had a cough like the death rattle. A consequence of a lifetime of cigarettes. The maid jerked away from the flower and turned around. She was shaking. She had heard it before. Someone was coughing behind an old discarded cupboard. She managed to gather enough courage to go there and look around it. The old man was sitting in his recliner. He had nothing on except his regular striped briefs. She stood frozen. He looked at her and smiled. The maid unfroze and bolted straight for the entrance. She ran and kept running. That was the last time she was seen. People say she came down with fever for a week and then relocated permanently to her native place, never to be heard from again. The people living in the building asked each other and found out that nobody took care of the plants. The old man's spirit is still there, and he cannot be removed. It is believed that he still tends to the garden himself. His cough is still heard sometimes...
"Hmm... Scary..." Somnath said with a smile. "But have you heard about the haunted room in Dombivali?"
"No... I mean, which room is it? There must be one where you throw a stone in an area like Dombivali..." Mayank said with a smile of his own.
"What about this room? Did people get possessed or killed?"
"The story is a bit different and much deeper..." Somnath replied.
Apparently, there is a room in a chawl in Dombivali which is purported to be haunted. The room is like average chawl rooms, unremarkable in itself. The same cramped space with peeling walls and creaky doors. The toilets are public toilets. But this room is peculiar. There is an air of destitution in it. Each day seems like an uphill task. Whoever inhabited the room was never really happy. They never seemed relaxed. And there was a clear undercurrent of fear. People would constantly feel someone watching them. They would see someone pass from the corner of their eyes, but there would be no one around. Children would regularly complain about someone standing at the window and calling them. Things would move around by themselves. Things would disappear and then reappear. People would fall ill. The most dominant feature was when you applied soap on your face. The fear would reach its pinnacle. You only felt normal when you washed it off your face. And there was always the smell of burnt khichadi, sometimes strong and sometimes light.
But all of this stopped when a level-headed couple moved in. They had married against the wishes of their families. They put down the various occurrences to coincidence and lack of presence of mind. The glass must have been misplaced. The milk must have been overturned by the cat. There are many households here... someone must have burnt their khichadi.
Then one day, the proverbial Onion Witch came to their door. The witch did not kill you. She possessed the lady of the house and led her astray. The same happened to the woman gradually. The witch, or whatever that entity was, possessed her. She began staying away from her husband to the point that her husband started staying away from the house. She began flirting with other men and even young girls and started having affairs. Her husband had started drinking and coming late to the house. She had started taking in multiple lovers in and around the chawl. And one day, her husband came home in the afternoon...
The police cleared the bodies. It was a gory sight. The husband had killed the lover by stabbing him in the back and puncturing his heart. The wife had an even worse fate. The husband knocked her unconscious. She was naked from the waist down. He tied her up and cut her up. He cut her up from the vagina all the way up to her neck. Then he went to the nearby railway track and threw himself in front of a train. And thus, the haunting ended.
"Very scary... too much gore, though..." Mayank said thoughtfully.
"Yes... too much gore..." said a voice.
They both turned quickly to find Kabir standing behind them.
"When did you come?" Somnath asked.
Kabir didn't reply immediately. His eyes appeared out of focus.
"But it's nothing compared to what I am going to show you..."
His voice sounded hollow.
"What are you..." began Mayank, but Kabir had already turned and walked out of the backdoor.
They both raised eyebrows at each other and followed him. Kabir was leading them to the shed in the backyard. He was walking as if he were gliding. Had they been sober, they would have noticed that he was actually gliding a few inches from the ground.
They came to the entrance of the shed. Kabir went in, and they followed. And what they saw made them laugh hysterically and go insane. Soon, they lost consciousness.
Now they both are residents of a very private psychiatric facility. They had been on vacation with their wives and children. Kabir was with them. The mood was upbeat. Everyone was happy. But they don't remember killing either Kabir or their families. Nor do they remember mutilating them. They still tell each other ghost stories whenever they are allowed to meet. The relay will probably end when one or both of them dies...
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