Abha was born and raised amidst the hustle and bustle of the busy Bangalore. Abha's mother was a homemaker while her father was an engineer in state electricity board. Abha loved her amma and appa very much, but the apple of her eye was her younger brother Animesh. Animesh was a couple of years younger to her, but he adored his akka crazily, often enough to bear her frequent tantrums. The bratty elder sister in this small happy family was fond of, almost fanatic about keeping herself the center of everybody's attention. And she nearly always got her way as well with a doe-eyed cute act, at the cost of her younger chinna.
In the summer break one year, Abha and Animesh went to visit their maternal uncle's place in Shimoga, a peaceful city 300 km north of Bangalore. Their mama, a trader, had his shop in the city market a few miles from their house. A house which was under renovation the time Abha and Animesh were visiting. A small storage room on the ground floor was sealed off carefully as it had a huge new septic tank dug up and covered behind with just some thin stone slabs. And the entire first floor was yet to be constructed afterwards. So the kids had access to only the two spacious bedrooms on ground floor and they both spent their whole vacation watching cartoons on television in daytime. Actually, half the time fighting each other for control over TV remote rather than watching anything. After sunset, when Sundar mama returned, he used to take his wife and both the kids for ice-cream post dinner. Aarti, Sundar's wife, was still yearning for motherhood even after 10 years of their marriage. And that's why Aarti was an aunt to die for, with these two adorable kids. Abha and Animesh too just loved her beyond just the blood relation.
Aarti had visited all the famous doctors around her city. And when science didn't help her become a mother, she sought advice from the seers and babas. But when that too failed, in her desperation she turned to a black magician. This con artist robbed her of some significant amount of cash and jewelry without Sundar's knowledge. And an innocent Aarti kept wishing for the miraculous effect of those weird rituals to happen. One day, while Abha and Animesh were home during the vacations, the black magician made his monthly trip to dupe a blind believer Aarti once again. Aarti was somewhere in neighborhood, while the kids were fighting violently over the remote as usual inside the room. The magician stepped into the house and finding the house owners absent, committed something unruly and unspeakable.
That evening, when Aarti returned from the neighbor's house, she found the storeroom Abha sitting and shaking violently in front of TV in the room. Burning with high fever, she was not able to utter a word despite the best efforts of Aarti and the neighborhood women. Such was the plight of the young child that by the time Sundar could shut his shop and return, Abha had lost consciousness. While an auto was called and they were on the way to nearby hospital, Sundar asked Aarti who she left Animesh with. That's when it dawned upon Aarti that she had not seen him since returning to home at all. It had all happened so fast really. Hearing this ominous news, Sundar shook his head to keep the vile thoughts away.
After admitting Abha in hospital and leaving Aarti with her, he went out to inquire in neighborhood. On his asking around, someone in the next street told him about a man in black robes seen coming out of his street that afternoon carrying some heavy stuff in an empty cement sack. Sundar collapsed hearing it. With his hands over his head he was now certain his nephew had been kidnapped by some tantrik. God knows what will become of him. Oh the terror!! He finally gave in to this grievous idea, lamenting his misfortune of not having a child himself and now jeopardizing his sister's child's life in his house. Hours later, Sundar stood up braving his turmoil and walked back to hospital.
He disclosed this terrible news first to his wife, and then dialed his brother-in-law, before calling up the police to hospital. Aarti's face turned white instantly on hearing it, as she realized who this mystery kidnapper might have been. She just prayed for this guy to show up his face and demand some ransom. Because if that didn't happen, then the boy was at the risk of being sacrificed in a bloody dark ritual. Should she reveal it to her husband? But what will he think of her then? Hell, what the police will think of her? They will never find that cursed tantrik, but will just pin the whole blame on her, isn't it? Aarti braved her inner turmoil, withheld what she might know, and kept weeping for hours to come.
Abha remained unconscious for next three days. Doctor told she suffered an unspeakable trauma, something that her innocent mind couldn't process and it caused her sudden psychological state getting deteriorated. When she wakes up, doctor advised the family and police not to be probing too much or her state could collapse again. Abha's parents, Mama and Mami stayed awake by her bedside and prayed to their lords, to make this still alive innocent child open her eyes again. They knew only a miracle could now return Animesh to them and it broke their spirit, because the Police was indifferent as usual. It was not entirely uncommon around these lands, sacrifices a young male children took place by dark magic practitioners in blind faith. And the victim was not too important or rich enough in this case, a blatant apathy was the expected response from the khaki. When Abha eventually opened her eyes, a mere formality of registering her statement happened and the file was closed off in no time. Abha's parents cried inconsolably for their beloved son for a while, but eventually braved the whole turmoil for Abha's sake, before taking her back to Bangalore.
The life was never the same again for Abha and her family after this tragic summer vacation.
But Abha's turmoil had just began.
Back into her school, Abha started lagging in her studies. She lacked any interest in almost everything now. From a chirpy child at home, in next two years she turned into a monosyllable speaking shadow of her older self. As per doctor's advice, her parents remained vigilant enough not to stir up any sensitive memories of past. They hoped she would move on with time, but apparently she never truly recovered from the trauma. On her therapist's recommendation, both of them took her away from the city atmosphere to Sundar mama's peaceful town in next summer break. They thought perhaps she will open up to Aarti mami and Sundar. Abha resisted the whole idea of this trip but somehow couldn't put up much fight. Perhaps there wasn't any fight left in her anyway.
The two story house was now completed, but Sundar and Aarti still didn't have any child. They had rented the upper floor to a decent family, just to keep some company of small kids in house. The haunting shadow of that dark incident still hung in that house. And though Sundar would reason out with her, Aarti could feel it often in the very air she breathed there. She wondered whether it was her guilt, that she never confessed with her husband. Or whether she felt herself solely responsible to bring a demon into their lives. A demon who didn't just take out the brightest life of their family, but dampened the rest forever along the way.
Abha's arrival was perhaps Aarti's chance to redeem her soul. She planned to take good care of her while she was here this time around. Abha was a totally different child and had lost all her spark. She resisted the whole idea of coming back to this place and kept to herself in the bedroom on ground floor. She remained in her bed whole day long, silently staring at the TV in front. Abha's mother and Aarti tried to take her out, show around the house or make a trip to the market, but she would just start crying. Abha's mother too started thinking it was perhaps a bad idea coming here after all. And then, everything changed one day.
The storage room on ground floor had been turned into a mini temple room now and a large photo of Lord Hanuman was placed along with some other miniature statues of deities to pray to. Aarti was a religious woman already, but after the turmoil she went through, she had taken solace in deep spirituality. Every Tuesday, she would organize a 'Sundar-Kand' and all the men and women from neighborhood used to congregation in the large hall facing the mini temple room. On Tuesday night, Abha too came out of the bedroom reluctantly and sat in the congregation with her parents who were wholeheartedly chanting along. She stared towards the temple room for half an hour, and suddenly shouted thrice- "Chinna, Chinna, Chinna". Within moments, her whole body began violently shaking and she fell unconscious whispering- "I'm sorry Chinna... I didn't mean to, chinna..."
Her father took her up in his arms and into the bedroom with her sobbing mother and Aarti following behind.
Witnessing this 11 year old silent kid behave such uncharacteristically, the tongues started wagging immediately. Some were sympathetic to the family and the girl's traumatic mental state. Some experts started dabbling into the supernatural. A punjabi aunty with henna colored hair said- "You know what, I have seen people reacting exactly the same at Mehandipur Balaji. This girl seems to be suffering from an 'upari hawa' (haunted spirit)." Another elderly woman corroborated- "Sacchi! Didn't you notice how she was staring at the statue of Hanuman ji before the panic attack? I am telling you, no invisible ghost spirits can escape bajrang bali's eyes." This time an elderly gentleman with a half silver bald head whispered to Sundar- "Beta, don't take me wrong, but these doctors today can't solve everything. I know a guy who is very powerful and famous for chasing away these bad spirits. And such tender age children are so susceptible to such spirits all the time anyway. It used to happen so frequently in old time. Nothing to worry about at all." Sundar gave a tacit consent to the old uncle.
Abha woke up next morning as if nothing happened. But nobody dared tell her about the last night. The entire week flew by and came another Tuesday. This time the whole neighborhood wasn't invited, just the elderly uncle. Along with him came in an intimidating figure with his two disciples. Everybody felt a chill up their spine having one look at these guests. They were as if coming out of a television set or a movie scene. A tall well built dark man with a tiger skin (or something like that) wrapped as the only cloth on his body. Thick locks of brown hair and medium size beard, with heaps of ash on the forehead. The disciples were carrying bags with stuff to create a mini yagna-kund there in the hall. The disciples had one look at Sundar, and with a slight nod from him, within no time the havan-kund was built.
Abha was called for, more than her, the two elder ladies were afraid. Abha came and sat in front of the fire pit and held first some grains and then a yellow thread in her hands as instructed. 'The expert' was making a full show of it all reciting the mantras in full swing while the scared little girl was clueless to what was happening around. When no ghosts were found in a couple of hours of pooja, 'the expert' and his team went away saying they will return next Tuesday with more powerful mantras. Now it was only the family and the elderly well wisher sitting in the house and brainstorming- "Whatever it be, the girl is suffering from some 'upari hawa'. You should not take it lightly. Let me look out for some more powerful tantrik next week."
Sundar apologised for the whole thing to Abha's parents once the old man was gone. He sat there staring blank at his sobbing sister. Her husband too sat next holding her hand. Aarti took the poor girl by hand and embraced in her arms.
Everyone sat there that night in the hall battling their own inner turmoil. Lamenting their own loss. Loss of a son, a nephew, a brother. But there was only one among them all who had lost something more than just that. Somebody lost her soul that fateful night without the whole world around getting a whiff of it.
Abha was quarreling with her younger brother that day when Aarti aunty was out in the neighborhood. Somehow she got really agitated that day, lost her temper, grabbed a silver glass kept by the bedside and hit Animesh on his tender head. Animesh didn't move for next few moments, and she helplessly started sobbing. That precise moment, the con artist, the black magician entered into that room. He found the little girl crying and beside him a little boy laying down on his face. He shushed Abha and sat down to check Animesh's pulse. His face went pale on not finding one. And he panicked that now he will be blamed for his murder. So he picked up Animesh's body, wrapped in a few empty cement bags, and dumped it in the septic hole dug up behind the storage room. It will take up some time to find out the body inside that closed tank with all that smell and all- he thought. He came out of the storage room to make a hasty exit, but stopped in his tracks when he saw Abha witnessing his entire deed. Abha stood there motionless, without crying, without speaking, but all seeing. The con artist thought of silencing her too. But disposing a dead body was one thing, murdering a live person, that too an innocent child was may be too much for him. Alright, enough trouble for tonight already- he thought, before picking up a few empty cement bags, putting in some precious silverware from this poor family's bedroom and rushed off with this small loot.
Abha went back to the room numb in her head. Still trying to make sense of what she did or did not. Abha stared at the television set and its remote whether it was worth it. Her young mind could not comprehend perhaps the entire episode or its ramifications. It was within shock perhaps for witnessing a death for the first time. Or for causing it rather, but not knowing what it actually meant. By the time her aunt returned, Abha's innocence was lost forever and her mind had drifted away to a place from where she never truly returned.
She hid this little secret, and never to admit her own guilt. Nobody would trust her anyway, she thought. This lie was eating her up from the inside gradually, but the truth was even scarier. She was able to bury it deep inside her subconscious somehow, until she was back to that cursed house again. The sight of that storage room, now turned into a prayer room- reminding her once again of the secret that laid there, without anybody ever knowing about it. Return of that deeply buried memory of an unspeakable horror, overpowered her senses during that religious function that night and momentarily, she let her grief and remorse take over her vigilant senses. Grief and remorse for her younger brother, her chinna, her Animesh.
Everybody is battling their own inner turmoil tonight. Some are able to share their grief with others. Some keep it buried deep within. While some are yet to even comprehend it fully. What happened to Animesh was tragic. But what happened to Abha was far more worse. Was it her fault? Was she the real victim here? We can't judge. I cant judge.
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