Astrology Deceives 

Does the most auspicious horoscope of a son-in-law guarantee the long span of life of the father-in-law? Opinion may be divided on this issue. But as far as Ramaiah was concerned, his conviction in this regard was unshakable. He believed that his long life was linked with the auspicious birth stars of his son-in-law.

 Ramiah had just then returned home in the blazing noon sun. He lay in the easy chair wearily and pondered over his meeting with the match-maker Seshaiah. Ramaiah had to get his youngest daughter Suguna married and in that connection he had to meet Seshaiah, the match-maker. The match-maker made it clear to Ramaiah that he had to pay a huge dowry if he was specific about the alliance. The bridegroom in Ramaiah’s mind was Mukund, whose horoscope was simply matchless. Ramaiah fell for the prospective groom’s horoscope more than his daughter Suguna fell for the groom.

  When Ramaiah was thus engrossed in his thoughts, his wife Seethamma brought him a tumbler of butter milk mixed with lemon leaves.  He drank the butter milk and put down the empty glass. Again he was immersed in his thoughts and remained moody.

  Seethamma sat beside him on the floor, sewing old clothes. She looked at her husband, expecting that he would say something. But he was still silent. She felt that she should broach the subject, though she was reluctant to. “What did the match-makter say?”she asked, sewing an old blouse.

  “Seshaiah said that Mukund’s father is demanding fifty thousand rupees as dowry besides gifts for the inlaws.” Ramaiah replied slowly.

  “I could guess it beforehand,”replied Seethamma, putting a new thread into the eye of the needle. “Mukund’s father knows very well your excessive insistence on the horoscope of a groom. So he doubled the figure of the dowry in just a week.”

  Ramaiah knew that his wife was going to attack his firm faith in Astrology again. So he wanted to be on the offensive even before his wife launched her attack.

  “Seetha,”he said, coughing. As he coughed, his frail frame shook all over.  “Yes, I have sincere faith in Astrology because the stars will not lie. I prefer Mukund’s alliance because his birth star was very auspicious. I don’t mind selling the house to pay off the dowry. I do not consider Ramu’s alliance in the least because his birth stars were harmful to me and may even cost my life. I am not afraid of death but  if I leave this world before you, you will be left in the lurch. We have no sons and you cannot live on the generosity of our sons-in-law forever. Considering all these aspects, I have decided upon Mukund’s alliance.”

  Seethamma remained silent. She knew that she could not win the argument with her husband who was always stubborn in his convictions. So that was the end of their argument over this issue.

  Ramaiah had four daughters and three of them were happily married. Suguna was the youngest one who was to be married.

  Ramaiah had no ancestral property but for the spacious tiled house with long pyols, on either side of the main entrance. The elders of the village sat cross-legged on the pyol and discussed with Ramaiah on various issues. They discussed a wide range of issues - from kickbacks in the bofors scam to the question of the Ultimate Reality. 

  Seethamma entered this house as Ramaiah’s bride when she was barely fifteen years old. 

   Ramaiah’s elder daughters were happily married in this house only. The  weddings were performed in the central hall of the house, neatly decorated. Even the naming ceremonies and letter initiation ceremonies were also performed in this hall with great pomp and splendour.

  Now selling this house was simply unthinkable for Seethamma. Buft there was no other way left. If they cancelled Ramu’s alliance and finalised Mukund’s, they had to pay the dowry through their nose. Ramaiah could not manage to get the money for dowry unless he disposed of the house. 

  As far as the bride Suguna was concerned, she was more practical and less romantic. She preferred security in life more than anything else. She calculated that her married life with Mukund would be more comfortable when compared to that with Ramu, who was a middle class person. So she wanted her father to consider Mukund’s alliance only and she got what she wanted.

  Accordingly, the old spacious house to which sentiments of a century were attached, was sold finally. Most of the proceeds of the sale of the house were paid as dowry and matrimonial gifts to the in-laws during the wedding and the wedding was performed with all the pomp.

  The landlord to whom the house was sold, wanted to occupy it as soon as the function of the wedding was over. So the newly wed couple was given a warm send off as soon as the sixteenth day ceremony was over.

  Now Ramaiah and Seethamma were left all alone. But they did not hold grudges. Most of the parents had to live separately as soon as their offspring were married off. Ramaiah and Seethamma thought they were just one of such couples.

  Days were rolling on mechanically and heavily. Seethamma woke up to an usual morning one day. She brushed and had her bath in cold water. Then she worshipped at the pious Tulasi plant. She went into her prayer room and worshipped the idols for a while.

  She prepared coffee for Ramaiah. She thought that by then her husband would have brushed his teeth and would have finished with his yoga schedule.

  But he still seemed to be sleeping. 

  Seethamma put down the coffee cup and wondered as to what was wrong with him that day. She woke him up gently. But he did not respond. His body was ice-cold. He had a peaceful end in his sleep. Though he thought that his son-in-law’s birth stars matched with his stars excellently and guaranteed him long span of life, ultimately Astrology deceived him.

  It was too much of a shock for Seethamma. She collapsed on the floor beside her husband’s cot. A slight gurgle escaped her throat. That was all. She lay still.

  The Colour Television

Little Sailaja was not against her dad’s buying the colour television set. But when the idiot box created a storm in the otherwise sweet home, she became sick of it.

  “It’s all because of you” she glared at her elder brother Sunil and began to cry. She knew that she was the apple of her parents’ and brothers’ eye. So even if she blamed her brothers for her own faults, there was an affectionate tolerance. That is why even now, when she accused her brothers that they were squarely responsible for the storm caused by the colour t.v, her brothers did not make any counter argument. If they wanted to, they would have told her that they three were instrumental in bringing home the thing. But when the house was filled with uneasy calm, with the parents each looking the other way, the brothers had no mind to offer any explanation to little Sailu’s accusation. They bore it calmly.

  When Sailaja could not see the anticipated reaction from her brothers, she was a little sad. She was hurt too. No doubt she was a pampered child. But it did not make her love her brothers less. “Aye, Anil, Sunil, are you angry at what I have said?” she said, wiping her years. “We three pestered dad and mom to buy the colour television set and they bought it for us. But we didn’t expect that it would make them quarrel with each other.”

  Sunil was a little sore at what Sailajai had said just then. But Anil’s heart melted. He took her into his arms and comforted her, “Don’t cry my darling sister”he said. “None of us thought that it would happen like this. Yet it happened and mom was terribly sick at it. But don’t worry. God is there. He will set everything right.”

  Anil, who was in his early teens, wanted to appear heroic before his little sister,

  When Sunit saw that Anil and Sailaja made it up, he felt forlorn. So he nestled close to his brother and sister.. “Me too,” he said.

  Anil patted his back and the three were united once again.

  The colour television, the mute witness to the tense situation in the home, was placed in a corner of the room.  The tv set had been arranged on a nickel plated stand with a special plank for a video cassette player (vcp) on it. There are two varieties of the stand, one with the facility of arranging a vcp on it and the other one without it. The three children opted for the tv stand with a wooden sheet below for the vcr. They hoped that their father would buy the vcp too when the monthly instalments for the tv were over.  

  But now the situation is different.

  “We shouldn’t have pestered dad to buy the tv now.”Anil said thoughtfully.”Dad has not fully repaid the instalments of the scooter. I know how hard dad finds it to make both ends meet during the end of the month.”

  Sunil shared his brother’s feelings. He too wanted to be serious and be taken seriously.”What do you say is right.”he said,”When I went to the bank along with dad, I saw the pass book. Dad’s bank balance hardly crosses Rs. 2000 mark. I don’t know how dad is going to pay the instalments for tv.”

 “But…”Anil said,”Dad should have thought that he couldn’t buy the tv set even in instalments. Next year I shall be joining in Plus Two class, you know? Dad will have to spend a lot of money for my books and school fees.

  Sunil nodded in agreement.

  Sailu felt she lagged behind in this important conversation.

  “Do you know why dad has bought the tv now itself?” she posed a question to her brothers. She paused for a while to see their reaction. But when their looks were blank, she said,”I whispered into dad’s ear that mom was made to sit on the dusty floor  and watch the tv at Shyam uncle’s while they themselves sat on the sofa comfortably. I also told dad that mom was not offered a cup of coffee when they had three rounds of coffee during a two hour long movie. Then dad muttered something. Maybe he might have muttered that he would buy a tv set to make mom watch it comfortably at home.”

What Sailaja said was a revelation to her brothers. Till now they were thinking that Sailu was simply a little girl to be coaxed and cajoled when she demanded undue share of the ice-cream or some other dish favourite to her. Now Sailaja’s importance was recognized and she was admitted into the conversation immediately.

  “What happened next?”Anil asked with bated breath.

  Sailaja stretched herself on the sofa and yawned. “Now I tell you Anil”she said, “Myself and Sunil went to Uncle Shyam’s the other day to play carroms, we asked whether we could watch the world cup cricket on their tv. Then Shyam uncle observed with irritation that his house was overcrowded with good for nothing brats who had no other business in life except watching tv.”

  “Yes Anil,” Sunil said, settling down on the sofa for a nap.”What Sailu said was true. That was the last time we visited uncle Shyam’s house.

  Anil spoke again,”mother has locked herself in the bedroom. She hasn’t eaten anything since the previous night.”

  At the mention of their mother, Sailaja broke into tears again. “When dad brought the tv set home yesterday night, mon told him frankly that she didn’t like him buying the tv while the monthly instalments for the scooter were still due and money was needed to join Anil in Plus Two class shortly. Then dad looked disappointed. He told mother that she never liked him buying anything. Then mother replied that we could not afford luxuries through mounting instalments. This heated argument soon turned into a bitter quarrel between dad and mom. Then dad left for Kishna uncle’s house angrily. Then mom bolted herself from inside the bedroom and cried.”

  “Don’t cry Sailu,”Anil and Sunil comforted her.

  It was afternoon 1 PM and the children felt ravenously hungry.. Their mother cooked the food, made the table and again locked herself in the bedroom, still crying.

  When their mother was fasting, the children had no intention of eating though  they felt very hungry. But they must eat something. Otherwise they would faint. Anil got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen. He made three cups of Horlicks and gave Sunil and Sailu each a cup. He had one. They stared for a while at the tv set in the hall with mixed feelings and then fell asleep on the sofa.

  Anil and Sunil lay asleep till they woke up to the joyful voice of Sailaja who was telling her mother to tune the tv set smoothly. “It’s not that way mom,”Saila was crying at the top of her voice. “It’s like this,” She jumped down the sofa and ran to her mother,”Oh mom! Brighten the image a little more. It is still dark. Now it’s O.K. mom. Don’t brighten the screen too much. It irritates the eye. But raise the volume a little more. The video song ‘Ek, tho, theen, char is lovely.”

  When Anil and Sunil rubbed their eyes and shook themselves out of their sleep, the drawing room was charged with joy and enthusiasm. The mother was tuning the tv and little Sailu, her tiny arms tucked into the pockets of her jeans trousers, was dancing to a song from the tv. The father was comfortably seated on an easy chair in the centre of the hall and smiled at the children indulgently. The shrewd children did not fail to observe their dad’s affectionate glances at their mother.

  Now the children were no longer cross with the tv set or with themselves. They were very happy to note that their parents made it up and were loving dad and mom again.

  Now the tv was beaming out a lovely program and the entire family was engrossed in it.

  The children hugged their dad and mom and were rewarded with affectionate kisses.

  The children, as they were children, were happy as their parents made it up. But the little innocent hearts did not know that their dad and mom made it up with a warm hug as they realised that the financial constraints of the family should not upset the joy of the children.

 The Trapped Shadow

Do spirits exist? Yes they do. My son Vishnu’s and my uncanny experiences made us believe that spirits do exist. This weird incident happened long ago, soon after my wife’s death. 

  We were returning to Hyderabad after performing the final rites to my wife on the banks of river Krishna at Vijayawada.

  My little son Vishnu and myself returned to Hyderabad with a heavy heart. Both of us were grief-stricken. We alighted at the Secunderabad Railway Station and were walking on the platform towards the exit door. 

  When we were approaching the parking slot where auto-rickshaws and cabs were parked, I found my son, who was till then holding my hand, missing. I briskly walked back to the platform where we alighted the Vijayawada express. The platform was already sparse with a few passengers as most of the passengers left. There my son Vishnu stood alone calling ‘mummy’. He was gasping for breath.

  I put down the luggage and gathered him into my arms. I tried to reason with him that his mother was no more and it was futile calling her.

  But Vishnu was adamant. “No dad,”he said. I saw mummy here itself. She was walking a few steps ahead of me. I could not catch up with her however fast I walked. I kept calling out “mummy” again and again. But she didn’t turn back.”

  I told him gently that a dead person would live in the presence of God and take care of her family from up above.

  My son sobbed thinking of his mother and accompanied me. We both reached home, tears welling up in our eyes.

  The same weird incident happened to me a few days later.

  That day I was returning home from my office on my scooter around seven o'clock in the night. Then the rain which started as a drizzle, soon turned into a heavy downpour. 

 I put on a raincoat and cap and was driving through the Lower Tank Bund Road. As I turned right and reached towards the Praga Tools Factory, the traffic dead slowed and moved inch by inch in the Kavadiguda. There I saw my wife in flesh and blood at a bus stop, holding an umbrella. As I looked at her, she gazed at me intently.  I was aghast at the sight. Many thoughts crossed my mind simultaneously. “Only a few days ago I consigned the dead body of my wife to flames. Then how was it possible that she stood there in flesh and blood? Could it be the ghost of my wife? Maybe or maybe not. I became emotional and wanted to run to her and hug her.

  But the horns of the vehicles around me blared and the drivers of the vehicles yelled at me to move on. I moved a little further, turned to extreme left and parked my scooter. I went back with brisk steps to see my wife. My mind refused to believe that it was my illusion purely. 

  But she was not to be seen at the spot.

  Being an avid reader of paranormal literature, I was convinced that it was my wife’s ghost. But what my little son Vishnu saw at the railway platform was a trapped shadow of the ghost of my wife. Though the ghost of a dead person leaves for the astral planet after cutting its links with its kith and kin on the earth, its shadow is trapped here for sometime.

  It was the first and last time my wife’s ghost appeared before me. 

  I do not wish that my wife’s soul should rest in peace. I do wish her soul should prepare for an even better birth next time.

 The Haunted Building

 We lived in a middle class locality in Secunderabad. Our residential quarters were flanked by a green building, said to be haunted. One of my friends Ram owned the building., who had a teenage daughter Rashmi and a little son Abhishek. My friend was a jovial person and often joined me in my morning walk. During our walk, we talked about many sundry things. Though I talked about this and that, my friend’s talk was always centred on his teenage daughter Rashmi’s education and future. When he was serious about her future, I used to dismiss his concerns, saying she was hardly sixteen or seventeen only.

  Since Rashmi was an intelligent girl, my friend wanted her to study medicine. Whenever he said that he would like to see his daughter as a medico, with a white coat and a stethoscope on her neck, his face had a great glow. I wished him all success in seeking admission for his daughter in any prestigious medical college.

  But Rashmi had different thoughts about her career. She played on veena (a stringed instrument) very well and did senior course in Carnatic music.

  My friend was very worried. Though he was not against Classical music, he did not like his daughter spending long hours playing on the veena. I personally witnessed bitter arguments between the father and the daughter over this issue.

  To my friend’s joy, Rashmi was the topper in the 12th standard. Usually such an occasion would be celebrated in a grand tea party with friends and relatives. But my friend’s family was not that lucky. Her scoring top rank in 12th standard resulted in a war of words in the family. My friend and his doctor brother wanted the girl to study medicine. But the girl wanted to do an advanced course in veena. Though the girl had her mother’s support, it was of no avail. 

  Ultimately my friend and his doctor brother had the final say. It was decided that Rashmi should study medicine.

  Rashmi gave a stern look at her father and her paternal uncle. She looked at her mother pathetically which conveyed many meanings. Then she dashed into her room and bolted the door from inside.

  We were all convinced that by the morning of the next day, she would come to terms with reality. She would agree to join the medical course.

  The next morning there was a heavy banging on the front door of my apartment. I was startled out of my sleep and opened the door.

  There stood my friend with a worried expression over his face. “Rashmi is not opening her door,”he said, gasping for breath.

  I put on a shirt and rushed into his house along with him. “Rashmi, please open the door” we all cried. But there was no response. We expected something terrible.

  Finally we broke open the door. The lifeless body of Rashmi was hanging from the ceiling fan. 

  My friend paid dearly for not letting his daughter do what she wanted. 

  The police was informed as it was a clear case of suicide by hanging.

  I do not want to go into the harrowing experiences that followed Rashmi’s death.

  But one thing I should not miss telling my readers. Rashmi ended her life on a new moon day. Hence special rites were performed for the well being of her soul till it took rebirth.  

  My friend could no longer live in the spacious building, which he constructed suiting his artistic taste. He appointed a watchman to look after the building and left for the States with his wife and little son. Being an auditor, it was no problem for him to find a job there.

 Though Rashmi died, her interest in classical music did not die. According to the watchman of the building, on every new moon night sweet music on veena was heard in Rashmi’s room in the building for a long time.

  Of late the music stopped. Perhaps Rashmi has taken a fresh birth to pursue her interest in playing veena.

 Ghost On A Cellphone

  My brother-in-law Narsing Rao had seen a ghost on his cell phone.

  It was a rainy day and there was a heavy downpour during the evening. The sky was gradually gathering darkness. 

  It was the habit of my brother-in-law to park his scooter at his elder sister’s apartment and then walk to his two room tenement nearby.

  It was 9 o’clock in the night by the time he returned from office. He parked his scooter in the cellar of his sister’s apartment and walked to his tenement. He refreshed himself in his room, had his meal and reclined on his bed.

  He dialled the number of his boss to appraise him of the latest developments at the office. It was a video call but the face of his boss did not appear. A dark woman’s face appeared on the small screen of the cell phone instead of his boss. The woman’s face had blood red eyes, which looked at him seriously. 

  He was startled at the ghostly face and switched off the phone. 

  He switched on the cell phone again after half an hour. Again the same dark face of the ghostly woman appeared. He was afraid to keep the cell phone switched on. He switched off the cell phone, placed the set in the worship room and went to sleep.

  The next morning he switched on the cell phone with his hands trembling. But the dark face of the ghostly woman did not appear. He heaved a sigh of relief and thanked God.

  Weird things do happen sometimes.

 A Close Shave With A Beautiful Ghost

My co-brother (co-brother means wife sister’s husband in Indo-Anglian language) Sundar Alesa had a close shave with a beautiful woman’s ghost. 

   Sundar, in his early twenties was well built and was of dark honeyed complexion. He was a fun loving and jovial person.

  He planned to watch the horror film ‘The Exorcist’. Befitting his adventurous spirit, he chose to watch the movie on the second show that ended at 12 o'clock midnight. He gathered about six friends to watch the movie along with him.

  Sundar and his bosom pals were then living in the old city of Hyderabad and the movie in question was being screened at Alka Talkies.

  Sundar and his friends watched the movie ‘Exorcist’ which created intense fear in them with bated breath.

  They enjoyed the intermission of the horror movie with biscuits and tea and the refreshments relieved them of their tense feelings about the movie.

  As the movie was over, Sundar and his friends were a bit shaky while dispersing thanks to the horror scenes of the movie. Sundar volunteered to drop his friends at their houses, of course on their individual bicycles. Motor cycles were a princely luxury in the country in the 1970s. 

  It was half past one o’clock before Sundar saw all his friends off. Suddenly the power went off and it was pitched dark.  The tea-stalls at the narrow lanes were being closed and the tea-biscuit carts were being pushed away to the vendors’ homes. 

  Now it was totally dark but for the shimmering light from the kerosene lamp fixed to the bicycle. Suddenly there was a violent shake of the bicycle. Sundar experienced an eerie feeling that somebody occupied the seat of the luggage carrier of the bicycle. He turned back and was surprised to see a woman of matchless beauty on the rear carrier. She was dressed in a white saree and a black blouse. She was of fair complexion and left her jet black curly hair without braiding. “Hi” she said, her voice sounding as sweet as that of a cuckoo bird. “Sorry for taking liberties of this sort. “I missed my friends while coming out of the theatre. If you shelter me till day break, I will leave for my place.” It’s a sincere request out of my heart.”

  Sundar could not say ‘no’. He wanted to whistle for his good luck. But he checked himself for she might mistake him for a duplicate Romeo. “It’s no problem, miss,'' he said, ''Our house is spacious enough to accommodate you. Moreover you need not fear for your safety. I live along with my parents, sisters and brothers.”

  On the way she engaged him in a long conversation. She said that she was a graduate of
Government Women’s College at King Kothi. She also said a lot about her family. She told him that some matrimonial alliances were being considered for her. But nothing was finalized. Then she looked into his eyes, which spoke of many things.

  Sundar had almost swooned with excisement. Now he had grand plans. He would note her address before she left his house in the morning. Then his parents would meet her parents and finalise the alliance. He thought that he would be the envy of his friends for having such a beautiful girl as his wife.

  The bicycle ride was very smooth with the girl at the rear carrier even on the potholes of the lanes and bylanes of the old city of Hyderabad. Whenever the bicycle bumped against a pothole, the girl’s bangles and anklets jingled at the jerks. Since the girl was of feather weight, pedaling the bicycle was easy for him.

  As Sundar approached his house, he experienced an eerie atmosphere. He got off his bicycle. He was about to ask the girl to dismount and accompany him into his house. But to his surprise the rear carrier was empty.

  Till day it is a million dollar question as to who the girl was and how she disappeared.

  There is no chance for her disappearance in a split second. This goes without saying that she was a ghost.

  The paranormal expert Veenu Sandal says that the spirits of  men and women of unfulfilled desires would not leave the earth for astral planets. This beautiful girl must have died before her marriage. Hence her spirit chases handsome young men like Sundar.

  Though Sundar is happily married with two children, a boy Chintu and a girl Sphoorthy, he still could not forget that beautiful girl. For him the entire episode was a sweet dreamy affair.

  It was not an encounter with a spirit for him.

 A Student’s Ghost At My Uncle’s Study

The unfulfilled desires of a person are many. An unmarried person who always thinks about attractive girls but died an untimely death before marrying a girl of his choice may turn into a ghost and loitering about the wedding venues. Similarly a college fresher who ends his life before completing his graduation course, may find himself in the premises of a seat of learning in the form of a ghost.

I think that this was the case of a student’s ghost who visited my uncle’s study regularly.  My maternal uncle Sharma was a practising lawyer. He had his office on the upstairs of a century old building. His office room might be better described as an attic, connected to the ground floor by the wooden stair-case. The house was noisy with the clients who talked with my uncle in muffled tones and the sounds of their footsteps on the wooden steps while entering and leaving my uncle’s office room. My uncle’s office was closed for the clients around 6 pm. 

  He used to teach Maths to his elder, younger sons and daughter who were studying tenth, ninth and eighth classes respectively. I too joined the class as I was a dullard in Maths.

  My uncle placed a high rise wooden chair in a corner of the room. He used to say that he reserved the chair for a ghost student, who was interested in Maths. But my cousins and I were skeptical about his claim. Of course we did not contradict his claim for fear of being given a good beating under the pretext of poor performance in the subject.

  At the commencement of the teaching at 7.15 sharp at night, the sound tuk, tuk was heard on the wooden stair-case. Shortly, the atmosphere turned uncanny. There was a screeching noise of the chair being moved a little. My uncle looked at the chair.,”Oh! You’ve come!’ He said, “ I think I can begin the lesson.”

  There was a broad grin of approval from the ghost student, of course according to my uncle’s perception. 

  Our class ended by 9 pm and my uncle said, “The class is over. You can go.”

  We heard the screeching sound of the wooden chair again; Then the noise of tuk, tuk was heard on the wooden staircase again.

  This process continued till we finished our college education.

  Later on, the student ghost ceased to appear. So my uncle also stopped placing a chair for the student ghost.

  I was grown up and on a Sunday morning I reminded my uncle about our pet student ghost, sipping over a cup of coffee. 

  My uncle became very old by then. He smiled through the wrinkles of his face. “Rao,”he said, “the ghost student was an intelligent student of Maths. But somehow he couldn’t make it to college, while he was alive. He might have met with an untimely death. His interest in Maths impelled him to attend our class.

  “But uncle,”I said, “Anand, Sudhakar, Girija and I failed to see the ghost student. But you saw him (the ghost) without fail. Moreover, why did he stop appearing to you as well?”

  “Rao!” my uncle clarified patiently. “The mental frequencies through which we and the spirits operate are entirely different. My mental frequencies and those of the ghost student’s are the same. So we see each other. Your mental frequencies did not match with those of the ghost student’s. That’s all.

  “The ghost student stopped appearing to me because he might have been busy with the learning of advanced Maths at some other place - either on this planet or at any other suitable astral planet or he might have been born again.”  

  I thought that all my doubts about life after death were cleared.

When A Spirit Threw Me Off My Bicycle

It happened about four decades ago when I lived at Namalagundu near Sitaphalmandi in Secunderabad. I had a quarrelsome neighbour at the next door who was in his middle fifties then. I was in my late twenties and just married. Since my neighbour was always ready to pick up a quarrel with me without any provocation I was not on speaking terms with him.

 One fine morning, he approached me with a broad grin on his face. “Brother”, he said,”I am feeling rather breathless and a nagging pain in my chest. If you lend me five hundred rupees I will consult a cardiologist. I’ll repay your debt as soon as possible.”

  I thought that it was not proper on my part to think about our old enmity. Only the previous evening he entered into an altercation with me about drawing water from the common well. After all he is a fellow human being in distress. So I made up my mind to help him.

  Five hundred rupees was a big amount then and my salary was very meagre in those days. But I was moved by his appeal. I asked him to give me some time. I rushed to my bank and drew the required amount out of my small savings. I returned home in no time. I knocked at my neighbour’s door. When he came out, I gave him the amount and wished him all the best. He thanked me profusely and left for the cardiologist with his wife.

  I prayed to God that he should get well soon.

  It was my habit to take a nap at noon. I was startled out of my sleep at the sound of women weeping at the next door. My wife and I rushed into my neighbour’s house. My quarrelsome neighbour lay dead on the floor, surrounded by his wife and other women weeping bitterly. The men assembled there were urging them to control themselves.

  Tears welled up in my eyes. I forgot all the insults meted out to me by my neighbour all these days for no fault of mine. My wife and I joined their relatives in consoling them.

  By evening the body was shifted to the crematorium at Namalagundu and consigned to flames according to Hindu rites. 

  I also waited there along with the others till the skull broke in the fires (kapala moksham) and returned home.

  I bathed, had my meal and started for my office at the Lower Tank Bund Road.

  My job at the office demanded working on the night shift on alternate weeks.

  After finishing my shift at 2 AM, I left for home on my ramshackle bicycle. I had to go through Lower Tank Bund Road, Kavadiguda, Chilakalaguda and Namalagundu finally.

  The chain of my old bicycle often came off while peddling. I had to get down and fix it at least four or five times during my travels. 

  My heart pounded against my chest as I neared the open crematorium. The pyre of my neighbour was burning. I got down from my bicycle and stood at a distance to the pyre. I prayed silently that my neighbour’s soul should rest in peace till his rebirth.

  I got onto my bicycle and began to pedal with a heavy mood. All of a sudden my bicycle shook. I lost my balance and fell down. At first I thought that I was feeling giddy. I got onto my bicycle and again there was a violent shake as a result of which I fell down once again. I sustained bleeding injuries. I did not dare to get onto my bicycle again. I pushed it home.

  I could not sleep that night properly. I had nightmares that night in which my neighbour laughed wildly and said “It is I who felled you from your bicycle. I can harm you though I have no physical body.”

  My wife was alarmed when I narrated to her what had happened to me. My friends and relatives advised me to stay at the office till day break during night shifts.

  After the first annual ceremony was performed for the well being of my neighbour’s soul

I ventured to go home after my night shift was over, crossing the crematorium. But nothing uncanny happened to me.

  I reasoned to myself that my neighbour’s bitter feelings about me had died by then and his soul was atoning for its past sins and preparing itself to take another birth. Hence it stopped troubling me.

 

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