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Two Men and a Ghost Cow
When I was twelve years of age, my father told me a story which I found intriguing hence, have remembered it vividly. I'd like to share it with you here today. I'll leave it to you to believe or not to believe.
My father was around the age of 22 when this incident happened. He was from a poor family and wasn't educated, so was only employable to do simple work; like, labouring at a milk farm.
In his days, the milk farms didn't have machines, everything was done by hand. My father, along with four other workers, would milk the cows in the day, and when came dusk, they fed the cows and let graze on the pasture.
After the chores were done, everyone would sit together, have chai (tea) and watch the beautiful sunset. After drinking chai, all the men, except one, would take leave and return home. The one remaining, was the lookout for the eveningThat was, basically, the daily routine.
One particular evening, the men let out the cows for grazing, They thought they had let all the cows out, but realised later, there was still one inside the shade that didn't want to leave. They tried to persuade her out—pushing and pulling her—but she was too stubborn so they brought in some dry grass, incase she got hungry, and left her alone. They closed the doors to the shade and sat for tea.
That evening was my father's turn to act as the lookout. When the rest left, my father prepared more tea and sat to admire the final minutes of the sunset alone.
While he was engulfed by the beauty of mother nature, he heard a greeting, "namesta bai ji." (Hello brother)
Two men, dressed just like him—milk farmers—approached from nowhere. In the villages, it is not unusual to have perfect strangers coming from nowhere and joining you for tea, so my father poured them tea and they talked right through sunset.
Jamir and Balu were their names, and they claimed to have come from a village nearby. Although my father knew almost everyone from the neighbouring villagers, he didn't recognise those two.
My father remembered, that night was a particularly quiet night. Surprisingly, he said, he could hear frogs, crickets and leaves rustling softly but clearly, even over their conversation. Not only could he hear the sounds of nature, he heard sounds that sounded very unnatural too—he heard low rumbling sounds that he thought were words being recited but they didn't sound human at all.
The 'words' were coming from the shade. He looked at Balu and Jamir. They said they heard the 'words' too. My father and Balu went to check. They found no body except for the cow in the shade. Balu then excused himself to answer nature's call. He went behind the shade and my father returned to join Jamir. But Jamir was not there. My father thought he also had gone to answer nature's call. He waited and waited, the two men never materialised.
Bewildered, my father searched the entire shade, inside and out. He also went to the field to look for them but Jamir and Balu was nowhere to be found.
"Where could they have gone to?" He wondered. He found it impolite that his visitors left without saying goodbye, and was quite crossed, so he cursed as he made his way back to the farm.
As he neared the farm, he heard a loud moan. It came from inside the shade. It was the same low rumble but that time, it sounded like it was bellowing in pain. My father ran as fast as he could towards the shade. He suddenly realised, it sounded like an animal was being slaughtered. He feared for the stubborn cow in the shade.
He crashed onto the shade doors and they sprang open. The cow was not there! On the ground, where they left some grass, was a pool of blood.
My father was very scared and ran out of the shade into the pastures with the other cows.
He thought and thought but could not rationalise how Jamir and Balu disappeared so swiftly, the rumble sounds he heard, the cow's disappearance, and the pool of blood.
The only logical explanation he could come up with was that the two men were really ghosts!
He could not stay on the open field, so he finally returned to the farm and stayed awake the entire night, jumping at the slightest sound or movement in the shadows.
Just before sunrise, the other workers started to come in. My father told them of the ghostly incident. To his surprise, they laughed.
According to them, Jamir and Balu had been real, and many of the men had seen their ghosts too.
Many years ago, the story went At that very milk farm, two workers stole a cow and sold it to a Muslim butcher at the open market. They were found out and were beaten and stoned to death by the angry villagers.
My father, still insisting the cow was butchered in the night, led his fellow workers into the shade to show them the pool of blood. To his surprise, the cow was standing there safe and sound; there was no blood anywhere on the ground. But, mysteriously, that cow died three days later.
Pritam Jhog, 30,
Shop owner - 26.Apr.2003
Forest Ghost
Hi all, I am Sameer, and I have a very interesting TRUE story to share.
I don't really believe in ghosts, vampires or anything supernatural but this incident has me somewhat hanging in mid-believe.
I was at a friend's wedding in Delhi when I was pleasantly reacquainted with two of my buddies from my younger days at Delhi Police Public School . We were so excited to see each other after so many years that we went outside the reception hall and talked.
Meeth, the tough one of us three, had joined the Indian army and was now a captain. I remember he was a daredevil in school, and nothing seemed to have changed. He went on talking about the risks he had taken as a soldier, and he had the scars to prove it.
Whilst we talked about our past escapades, Amir, who had been the timid one of us three, brought up the topic of the supernatural. He had had some brave encounters in the past, and thought if he talked about them, would somehow put him in our machismo league.
When Meeth heard about Amir's small encounters, he wasn't impressed, but it still bugged him. Meeth then started talking about a dare, just like school days. Meeth said that there was a forest nearby, and that we should all go there and look for ghosts if we were ‘ballsy' enough.
I could not immediately swallow the lump in my throat, fearing they would notice my anxiety. I looked at Amir. He kept a straight face but I knew he was afraid too.
“So, yaar,(friend) how about it if we go to the forest at twelve midnight?” Meeth said, twitching his eyebrows up twice, mocking us. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Eherm, sure.” I said. Inside my ribcage, my heart protested with powerful thumps.
Amir, of course, didn't seem too enthusiastic. “It's not nice, you know, to leave a friend's wedding just to do that.” He said.
“Oh, you are afraid, Amir?” Meeth said, grinning away as if he had won over the dare already.
Amir suddenly stood straight and protested. “NO! I have met many ghosts. They don't scare me!” “Okay, it's agreed then. We will leave at 11.45.” Meeth said, heartily. He then wrapped his strong arms around our shoulders and we walked back into the reception hall. We ate and drank merrily.
Before we knew it, it was 11:40 p.m. Meeth looked at me and tilted his head in a snap. That meant it was time to go. We said our goodbyes to the groom's and bride's parents and wished the newly weds ‘all the best.'
The path which we walked through was dark; the moonlight could not reach us through the trees. Amir groped about until he touched something slithery. He let out a yelp, which made me jump.
“Oh you girls, haven't you wandered in the jungle before?” Meeth said, laughing.
We didn't speak a word; we were scared, but more so of embarrassment than nightly creatures.
“Er...it was just a reflex action.” Said Amir, covering his shame.
Suddenly, Meeth stop. Ahead, in the open field, stretching widely across, was a barb wire fence.
“Huh! It must be someone's farm. We shouldn't enter into someone's property. It's an offence.” Amir said, seeing an opportunity to back out.
“Rubbish! Meeth said. “You are scared, huh Amir?” He turned to look at Amir, then at me. “What about you Sameer, are you scared too?”
I looked at him, then at Amir. Amir was indeed scared; his entire body was covered in sweat. I didn't speak a word. I took a step forward and walked on, ahead of Meeth himself.
“Ha ha!” Meeth expressed. “Shabas Sameer.” He said, and followed me, leaving Amir to stand alone. With Meeth behind me, I walked towards the barbwire fence. The open grassland behind the fence looked as if it was glowing under the full moon light. I could see trees and other shapes of ‘farm things' ahead through the mist. When I came close enough to be able to see the spikes of the barbwire, I stopped and took in a breath of the fresh farm air.
“Hmm yaar, this is beautiful isn't it: the fresh cold air, the mist, the glowing grass, and the full moon.” I said as I let out the air from my lungs.
“Who's that?” Meeth whispered from behind.
I looked to my right. I saw a figure of a man. I wondered at that instance if it was a scarecrow. Then, it moved! I looked over my shoulder to Meeth. His eyes were fixated to the figure. I turned back and looked at the figure.
“Do you notice something strange about the figure?” Meeth whispered from behind.
“What?”
“Look closely. It has no legs!”
The hair on my body stood up instantly. Then we heard brushing sounds from behind us. We turned in a start. It was Amir, dragging his feet over the wet grass. I quickly turned to look at the figure again. It was still there. It's head began to move and its arms swung a little.
“Who's that?” I heard Amir whispering to Meeth.
“Don't know, but it has no legs. Do you see it?” Meeth whispered to Amir.
“Dear God! What the @$%@ is it?” Amir expressed in shock.
“HOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIII! WHO ARE YOU? YOU THINK I'M AFRAID OF YOU? YOU #$$%%$# CREATURE OF THE NIGHT!” Came a deafening shout from Meeth. Jolted out of our scared state, Amir and I backed away from the fence.
“Hey Meeth! Let's go yaar, don't mess with things you don't know!” Amir shouted as we retreated.
Soon, Meeth too backed away, and we left the farm and forest. The more time away from the incident, the more it seemed like a dream.
“Hey, did you see what I saw?” I asked Amir suddenly.
“You saw it too? The man with no legs?” Amir replied with a deep frown.
“Meeth, did you scream earlier?” I asked.
“What? I thought it was in my head that I saw a figure with no legs and shouted at it.” Meeth said, surprised.
“It really happened, then!” I said out loud. But in my head, it slowly retreated away like a forgotten dream.
That was the first time we had such a strange experience in our lives. But what was to come was a testament of something truly WAS out there.
Since that night, I had had many dreams. In my dreams, I would fall through a black hole. There seemed to be no ending to my fall. I would become desperate and start to scream, but nothing would come out of my mouth. Then I would wake up and find myself wet in sweat.
Some nights, when I dreamt, I would know it was only a dream and tried to break out of it. Sometimes I was able to wake up, but found myself paralysed. I could feel something sitting on my chest and choking me. I could see the things in my room; I could see my legs but could not move them. When I struggled, I could see two pairs of legs—one pair that was paralysed, and the other, struggling to get free as if my spirit and my body were two separate entities. When I did finally move and wake up, I'd find myself covered in sweat and suffering from bad body and head aches. The dreams, or rather, nightmares, carried on for many months. I had become weak and depressed most of the time. Yet, I refuse to believe the ‘thing' I saw in the farm had anything to do with it. I believe the whole incident happened in my head, like a dream.
Two summers passed, and I met Meeth again. He had just returned from his hometown in Gharwal, a beautiful hilly area some five hundred kilometres north of Delhi .
I saw, around Meeth's upper arm, he wore a Tabeez (a small band made with cotton string to ward off evil spirits).
“Why are you wearing a Tabeez, yaar?” I asked, boggled, as Meeth was such a fearless daredevil.
Meeth looked embarrassed and gave me a slight reluctant smile. “Oh, it's nothing.”
“No, yaar, tell me.”
“When we were in Gharwal, visiting my grandparents, my mother insisted I saw a Tantrik (witch doctor). He made me this Tabeez and told me to wear it for protection.” Meeth said, sheepishly.
“Protection? From what?” I laughed. Then, seeing Meeth quiet, I asked in a more serious note, “Why did your mother make you see a Tantrik ?”
Meeth told me about his nightmares: the choking, the paralysis, and all the other things I had been experiencing myself. I was shocked at the similarity of our dreams but still refused to believe the ‘thing' behind the barb wire had anything to do with it.
I didn't tell Meeth about my dreams. I laughed at Meeth. “What? In this day and age you still believe in the Tantrik 's magic?”
Meeth wasn't the audacious guy I used to know anymore. This new Meeth was humble and more religious. He did not get angry at me for laughing at him; neither did he throw new dares at me. Meeth had changed, and that scared me.
“I never believed in those things. You know me, yaar.” Meeth said in a grimace and throwing his hands about. “But when I was there at the Tantrik's place, he looked at me, then over my shoulder, and he said something that made my blood curd.” “What did he say?” I said softly, with hair rising at the back of my neck.
“He said there was a male spirit with no legs following me around. He was angry because I called him ‘#$$%%$# CREATURE OF THE NIGHT'.”
My jaw dropped when I heard what Meeth said. I was confused because I truly believed that that night's incident happened only in my head, and in mine alone. How the hell can Meeth, or a Tantrik who lives five hundred miles away, know anything about it. I guess I had been in denial all this time—the incident must have been REAL!
Meeth continued. “After the Tantrik said that, I realise this Tantrik was for real; how could he have known about that night when only the three of us were there?”
Meeth looked at me with eyes that I didn't recognise. This Meeth was truly a different Meeth, he was at peace with himself. (I envy him.)
Somehow, after talking to Meeth, my dreams stopped. Now I live in peace, and my health has also improved. I wonder how Amir is doing. We haven't spoken or met since the wedding. Sameer Singh, 25.
Database Administrator
The Little Black Tyrant
Godavari , an old friend of my grandmother's, was ill. My grandmother, learning of the news, met up with four of her friends and went to see Godavari at her house.
The women were relieved to find Godavari doing better. They stayed and chatted all evening. Then, when it was nearly seven o'clock, the five women left Godavari's place.
Home was quite far if they were to walk through well lit roads. It would save them at least half an hour if they went through Amrtala.
Amrtala is not a village. There are no houses and people living there. It is just a jungle centre-spot where there were networks of pathways that led to other villages.
The five women had each used Amrtala on many occasions when walking to and from other villages. This day wasn't any different. They walked blissfully in the dark without a concern.
When they reached a junction of the pathways, they separated; three of the women said their goodbyes and left in different directions. Lakshmi and my grandmother stayed a while longer and talked. They talked under the moonlight shadows of the rustling leaves. The night was cool and comfortable, and had made them lose track of time. When Lakhmi did look at her watch she was shocked to learn it was almost nine o'clock. They reluctantly left one and other and went their separate ways.
My grandmother walked peacefully, clutching a market bag in her hand. Amidst the rusting leaves and the shadowy moonlight on the ground, she saw a figure up ahead. It was a little boy of four or five years old.
My grandmother was surprised to see a little boy in the middle of nowhere. As she walked closer to the boy, she tried to make out his features but she couldn't see very easily in the dark. When the boy came forth into the light, she saw that he was very black and horrendously ugly.
The boy pointed at her market bag and asked if she had meat in there. My boggled grandmother shook her head and said she had sweets in there. The boy didn't believe her. He asked her to open it and give him the meat that was inside. My grandmother was annoyed by the boy's stubbornness. She dug into the bag and removed the sweets she had in there.
"Here take these sweets, little boy." She said.
The boy shook his head and shouted. "I WANT MEAT!"
My grandmother became scared. Even though he was a tiny figure, she was afraid. She realised how unusual the situation was because there could not have been a mother in the village who would allow her small child to wander about in the jungle like that.
My grandmother walked pass him and tossed the sweets on the ground. The boy began to pick the sweets up and threw them back at her. My grandmother was at the verge of screaming, but didn't. She kept her cool. She walked fast, and soon, she had walked almost ten meters away from the boy. When she didn't hear his call for meat anymore, she turned to look. He was standing at the spot where she dropped the sweets. Suddenly, in a blink of an eye, the boy was right in front of her, barely a meter away. My grandmother panicked, let out a scream, and began to run. The boy gave chase, screaming for meat. She ran and ran, hearing the boy's footsteps but saw nothing when she turned.
Soon, she was out of Amrtala and ran to the first house she saw. The door opened after half a minute of frantic banging. The shocked woman at the door asked what happened. My grandmother told her what she had been through. The woman wasn't surprised. She said she has heard of the little black tyrant from other women too.
Amrtala it seems, is haunted. Piya Patil, 19.
Artist, India
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