Savita was looking particularly beautiful today. She was wearing a deep blue sari with a black border that brought out the color of her eyes. Her face looked lovely and there was a light pink flush to her cheeks that deepened significantly as she looked at me. The black of her eyes was shining like a bright planet, suspended in the galaxy of white and the gentle, elegant dash of kajal was stroking my passion and churning the waves of emotions that I now felt staring at it. She walked towards me with a gentle sway to her hips and I swallowed uncomfortably as my heart skipped a beat. She would give me a coy smile every now and then; nervously raising her eyes to meet mine, and I could do nothing to camouflage my expression that shamelessly revealed a mixture of pain and pleasure. She was now very close to me and I could smell her sweet perfume on me; the color of her kajal that now matched evenly with my eyes and the red of her lips that somehow became the color of my blood running through my veins…I took her soft hand in mine and played with her bangles. ‘Savita’ I said, saying every syllable of the beautiful name with a reverence reserved for gods. ‘Savita, will you be mine forever?’
‘Sutte…’ she said in a sweet whisper that sent blood gushing to my veins. I could feel my temples throb with an excitement hitherto unknown to me.
‘Yes Savi…’ I said, my voice audible only to the wind.
‘Sutte!’ she cried suddenly and my dream turned into a nightmare. Why was she suddenly mimicking my friend? What had gotten into her?
‘Oh! Savita!’ I cried, shaking her thoroughly. ‘What’s wrong with you, dearest?’
‘SUTTE! WAKE UP!’
One moment I was with Savita standing on a rose petal and locked in a rosy world and the next I was lying spread eagled on the ground, hurt and confused. I opened my eyes and looked at the blurry but cross image of my friend sitting magisterially on the bed, wearing an indignant expression.
‘I am sorry I hit so hard that you fell,’ he said brusquely, ‘but you weren’t taking the name of getting up! I would have gone alone but you took my promise that I should wake you up at all costs. I should not have made that promise at all.’
‘But…but… she was here…’ I said as if in a daze.
‘Who was here?’ he cried with impatience. ‘Now stop gibbering and get on your feet. I just got a call from Nataraj Bhakti. I think he has seen or felt something. Now don’t waste another second. Get up quick!’
‘What time is it?’ I asked, rubbing my eyes and getting my act together.
‘It’s 1.20 a.m. Now come on!’
Disoriented, I got up and searched for my slippers. Somehow they had developed a habit of traveling under the bed while I slept. I retrieved them with some effort and then looked for my pants.
‘What are you doing?’ Bhrigu cried.
‘Searching for my trousers.’ I mumbled sleepily. ‘Do you want me to parade in my pyjamas?’
‘There is no time for good manners.’ he said with impatience. ‘We are not going for a dinner party. Now come on!’
I called him a few choice words and abandoned my weak attempt at decency in the wake of his agitation. Quietly, he tiptoed out of the room and I followed him in the darkness, afraid to even breathe lest it offended invisible entities of the night, prowling about in mischief, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The stairs were the most difficult to navigate. In the bleak light from the cell phone of my friend I could only make out that we had to go down a descent but what sort it was, remained a mystery. I clutched his arm sleeve tightly and hoped for the best. At his heels, I somehow managed to get to the bottom of the stairs and felt like a victor who had just emerged triumphant and unharmed from a battle field. From that point forward, I collected my bearings and walked along him with dignity. The night had fallen dark and thick and I could hear no sound except that of the dogs who had gathered under the tree outside the gate and as was evident from the noise, were in the middle of a very heated discussion. The door that led to the backyard was open and we entered it to at once spot the cabin of Nataraj Bhakti at a distance; the light from his window shining through the curtain of dark.
Bhrigu rushed forward and I tried to do my best to keep up with the pace he had set. In no time, we were standing outside his door, panting hard. Bhrigu firmly knocked at it.
‘Wh…who’s there?’ called a frightened voice from within.
‘Its us.’ he answered. ‘Please open the door, Bhaktiji’
In a moment the door flew open and framed in it stood our host, shaking like a leaf from head to foot.
‘I…they…it…’ he stammered.
‘Please sit down and have a glass of water.’ Bhrigu said. ‘We will talk then.’
I poured water from a surahi and handed him quickly. The poor man took it with fingers that shook so much that I was afraid he would not be able to hold it. With time, his grip strengthened and he took two long sips of water.
‘Are you okay now?’ I asked.
‘Y…yes…yes sir, thank you.’ he said with a quaver.
‘Now tell me, Bhaktiji, what did you experience?’ asked my friend.
He took a long drought of water and said ‘I…I was not able to sleep tonight as I was sure that the phantom would be up to some tricks again. The moment I tried to sleep, every little sound, real or imagined, would set my heart racing. For three hours I could do nothing but struggle with my fear and lay turning on the bed. I don’t know when sleep came after all but then in a half conscious state, I remembered that today was the phantom day and I woke up with a start and sat panting on the bed.’
‘That’s all?’ I asked.
‘No…no…’ he said in a voice close to tears. ‘I got up, shivering in every limb and switched on the light. I scrutinized my room and saw that every thing was in its place but I had a foreboding that something indeed had happened. Shaking uncontrollably, I opened the door and went to look into the kitchen to see if the pots and pans were there alright.’
‘And what did you see?’ I asked, getting excited myself.
‘They were just as they should be.’
I was a little tired with his ramblings that did not seem to go anywhere. What kind of a loose encounter with a ghost was this? ‘If everything’s alright, Mr. Bhakti, why are you shook up so much?’
‘Because…’ he cried ‘because…’
‘Did you look into your wife’s room?’ my friend asked.
‘No. I called you and waited to go there together.’ he said and with his face in his hands, broke into hysterical sobs.
‘Well, we’ll go there together’ said my friend as I tried to pacify the man with gentle assurances.
He agreed to accompany us but it took us a Herculean effort to get him on his feet and moving. I took his right arm, my friend grabbed his left and together, we almost carried him through the backyard, up the stairs and to the locked room of his late wife Damyanti.
‘Key please.’ I said and Bhakti produced it after fumbling for it a long time, in the inside pocket of his Kurta. He gave it to me and stood in the shadow of Bhrigu, as if trying to hide himself under him.
The lock opened with a click and we entered the grim room in silence. It smelt of many things; dust, grime, fresh paint even sweat but I could detect among the infernal smells something fresh and light. I could not say it for sure but mingled with the common smell of a dusty old room, came to me the dull fragrance of wilting lilies.
Bhrigu flicked on his cell phone and threw its light around. In a corner stood an old dressing table; the one that is used by women in the villages. It was a very simple one, handcrafted by a local carpenter in plywood, with an oval mirror that was covered in dust and a table that held odds and ends of a simple make up kit; a used, cheap brand lipstick, a dusty packet of black bindis, a few hair pins and a couple of black rubbers strewn about carelessly. There was a steel holder set on the table that sported a hand made Japanese fan.
‘Oh my god!’ shrieked Nataraj Bhakti and fell on the ground unconscious.
‘What…what happened?’ I cried, trying to revive the man.
Bhrigu was calm but I could see his tension in the beads of perspiration sticking out on his forehead. He gently drew the drawer and we peered inside together. In the middle of it, sat a beautiful silver comb, shining brightly in the general atmosphere of dust.