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Home page > English > Short Story > The Encounter

The lurching vehicle on a dusty track made it difficult for him to read the glowing hands on his Swiss watch. Eventually he could make out the time. It was eleven on a cold November night. Corporal Amar Nath and his partner Jaswant Singh of the Military Police were speeding homewards in their jeep. The duo was returning after conducting security checks.

There was not a soul in sight. The engine’s sound rippled through the tranquil starlit desert night. The moonlight on shimmering sands created illusion of a vast white sheet spread around for miles. New to the place, Amar was enjoying the sight when suddenly blue flames leapt skywards from the deserted aerodrome a few hundred yards away.

It was an eerie scene...

On the green grass, alongside the tarmac, a bluish bonfire’s flames billowed skywards, scorching the starlit awning. The distant sand dunes appeared close enough to form an argentous background, which occasionally sparkled like stardust. Around the bonfire strange men, women and children clad in various shades of blue were dancing a weird dance. Their upper torsos swayed in unison while the lower parts of their bodies seemed to glide over the grass around the tarmac. The orchestration of their movements was awesome.

At regular intervals the females’ long tresses rose skywards and exploded into brilliant sparks, like pyrotechnics on Diwali. Yet there was no sound. The absolute silence, despite so much activity, was startling.

 

“What’s that?” Corporal Amar asked Jaswant Singh.

“They’re spirits. According to the local legend these belong to the soldiers, nurses and others who died in the camp hospital here during the Second World War. The bonfires...”

“Nonsense! Ghosts, tcheh!”

“You’re new here. You’ll get used to them. Especially when sand storms from the desert plunge the full moon night into absolute darkness.” Jaswant retorted.

After depositing their weapons in the armoury they left for their respective quarters.

When he was a few yards away, Amar saw a woman standing in front of his house. The doors were slightly ajar and dim electric light from within fell directly upon her. She had long hair and was wearing blue salwaar-kameez and a blue shawl.

Amar had heard of the banjara child lifters operating in the area. His first child was born only a few weeks ago. His wife, Satya, discharged from the military hospital some days back, was alone with the baby at home. He felt uneasy. Was this strange woman a child lifter?

“Who’s there?”

On hearing Amar’s challenge the woman moved away.

“Halt!” Amar ran after her. She too began to run, but he quickly reached her and made a grab for her flowing tresses.

Nothing! She just vanished!!

“I must be tired... hallucinations!” Amar rationalised and turned back towards his quarters.

Suddenly he heard heavy breathing and loud footfalls passing by him. This is real! He chased the sound. Soon enough he saw the same woman running towards the aerodrome.

“Halt or I shoot!” Amar shouted even though he was unarmed. But she kept on running. After a half-mile chase the woman reached the tarmac. He was within ten yards of her when she turned towards him.

He stopped in his tracks.

Her bloodshot eyes were smouldering embers.

She sneered at him, revealing blood-red teeth.

Slowly the ends of her long black tresses rose skywards, gradually turned into blue flames, and haltingly merged into the fires that raged on the grass bordering the tarmac.

 Silhouetted against the blue flames her face looked hideous. For Amar it was a nightmare in slow motion, as he stood transfixed watching the flaming phantasm evaporate.

Sweating heavily, he passed out.

When he regained his senses the sun was already rising. Jaswant was bending over him, a bit worried, calling out his name softly.

“Thank God, you’re ok. When you didn’t report for duty today I informed the security officer.”

“Wh...?” Amar looked at the grass near the tarmac, “I saw her...blue fires were raging here, but the grass...”

“It’s green. The fires don’t burn anything, nor do the spirits harm anyone provided they are left alone.” Turning towards the waiting ambulance-men he said, “Let’s move.”

 

"Where were you all night?" Satya asked Amar when he reached his quarters after the preliminary check up at the Station Sick Quarters.

Amar stared at her for a while. How could she not hear all that commotion right at her doorsteps, especially when the doors were ajar? He had chased and shouted at the woman-in-blue. Or was he imagining things?

"It was late when the rounds were over, so I thought it better to sleep in the barracks than disturb you."

His perceptive wife sensed that he was hiding something. But she kept quiet, and moved towards the kitchen.

"I had my breakfast at the mess. I’ve brought some for you too." Amar opened his bag and pulled out a packet containing boiled eggs, butter and bread, "How’s sonny?"

Satya smiled. Her husband seldom touched the infant, afraid he might hurt him, but always kept tabs on his firstborn’s care.

"He’s fine. Hasn’t yet started asking questions... This bread is fresh, certainly not from the mess..."

"No. Pinto’s bakery had just opened, so I thought..." Amar moved towards the cot. He watched the sleeping child with tenderness. He yearned to pick him up and kiss him, but was afraid that the frail cherub might just slip out of his hands... he had never cuddled a baby before.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Handle him, I mean don’t you feel nervous...?"

Satya laughed, "Mothers are always sure while handling their offspring. That’s why the child seeks the security of her lap. It’s only when he grows up..."

Amar smiled, "He seeks the same mother in his wife."

Satya looked at him, "Do you?"

"As far as dos and don’ts are concerned, yes. Only the lap part..."

"Naughty..."

Suddenly he saw a bluish outline of a female figure hovering near the cot. He stared hard. It was transparent.

"Am I seeing things or...?" he mused.

After shimmering for a split second the spectre disappeared.

Amar asked in a serious tone, "Satya, do you believe in ghosts?"

"You know that I do, but only because I’ve read about them. Never met them."

"Not even last night?"

"What was so special about last night?"

"You were alone..."

"I always am whenever you go on night duty... you have something on your mind?"

"No... nothing really. But haven’t you ever heard any ghostly incidents from anyone in the quarters?"

"No. Amar, what’s the matter, you not feeling well?"

"Oh, don’t be silly. Just curious about how you pass your time..."

"You never asked such questions before the baby’s birth, when I used to be really lonely..."

"Forget it. I just don’t know why this topic has cropped up. I’m tired. Can I have a nap? There’s one more long night ahead."

Satya looked at him curiously, didn’t he say he had slept in the barracks?

"Sure. But when the junior wakes up you will have to be with him. He’d like to meet his father once in a while."

Amar patted her shoulder, "Anything he wants urgently?"

"A prattling tête-à-tête."

Amar climbed into his bed.

Within minutes he was snoring. Long years of training had made him adept at switching off his mind to the outside world, and slip into deep slumber.

 

"Ready?" Jaswant grinned.

"Sure." Amar patted his Royal Enfield.

"Got over last night’s experience?"

"I’m sure it was only the desert playing tricks."

That night they were to visit the area where stood the deserted rambling fortress-like palace. It was a routine check. Though the use of the dilapidated structure for illegal activities was not ruled out, nobody had yet been caught by the police.

The Enfield gunned into life. Jaswant sat on the pillion. They took off. It was a steady, throbbing ride. On the way they came across a couple of suspicious characters, who were let off after cursory interrogation. The idea was to let the ruffians know that they were under constant watch.

Then arose the huge structure, like some evil spirit shaking off the desert sands. For the first time in his life Amar felt a strange sensation. Not exactly fear, but a sense of foreboding.

"Is the palace haunted too?"

"That’s what everyone here believes. In fact the spectre that you saw at the aerodrome last night is more frequent at the palace." Jaswant replied.

"Hmmm. I’d rather check this out tonight."

"Hey, it’s full moon night today. Try your bravado some other time."

"Full moon? I didn’t realise that. Then tonight’s the best time for ending this damned suspense."

He turned towards the palace, ignoring Jaswant’s pleas.

The front yard resounded with the motorbike’s pulsation as it came to a halt near the imposing front door.

A sandstorm was gradually building up in the west.

Amar and Jaswant looked in dismay at the dark balloon getting steadily bigger as it speeded towards them.

Jaswant whispered, "My God! The storm will be here in half an hour. Let’s get out of here."

"Don’t be silly. There’s no shelter for miles. It’ll be wiser if you took the bike to the watchman’s cabin there. It’s empty I believe."

"Yes. But what about you?"

"I’m going in." Amar gestured towards the palace.

"You’re mad. In this storm ghosts will be active..."

"Or, perhaps your imagination is becoming hyperactive? Ghosts are a myth. Why don’t you come in and find out?"

"I’m not going inside." Jaswant whined.

"You stay here then. Take care of the bike. Keep the cabin’s door shut. If you hear any gunfire it’s only me chatting up the ghosts." Amar laughed and went through the door.

It was pitch dark inside the main hall. Barring the creaking of the giant teakwood doors when Amar opened them, there was absolute silence. Even the inanimate objects appeared frozen with the fear of the unknown.

The storm was raging outside. The wind whistled through the empty spaces, giving the Cimmerian darkness a frightfully supernatural dimension.

Amar felt his spine tingle with a strange tension. It wasn’t fright, but a sort of uneasiness. He could sense a presence, as though someone was walking alongside him.

He looked to his right and then to the left.

Nothing.

He heard heavy breathing and the sound of someone climbing the stairs near the opposite wall.

Amar took out his revolver and removed the safety catch. He crouched and moved silently towards the direction from where the sound was coming.

"Who’s there? Stop or I shoot."

"You had said the same thing last night, remember?" An amused female voice replied.

Amar fired. The report echoed in the empty hall accompanied by a soft, almost inaudible chuckle.

The room lit up in a bluish light. A woman appeared on the carpeted stairway as if by magic. She was glowing in the blue and white halo that enveloped her. She began to climb down the stairs. Her steps were measured, like she had been used to the place for ages.

She was exquisitely beautiful. Large eyes, chiselled facial features, full mouth, sparkling teeth and long, rich, flowing tresses. She was dressed in Rajasthani ghagra-choli - colourful, embroidered, glimmering with pearls-and-mirror work.

She was the same woman Amar had met the previous night. Yet somehow she was different. He was wonder-struck with her beauty.

"Who are you?" Amar asked, covering her with his revolver.

"Sandhya."

"Sandhya?"

"That was my name, when I had entered this palace as a twenty year old."

"Are you a princess?"

"Was. The queen of this place, when the British ruled India. But before that, as a teenager, I was a commoner. Daughter of a foot soldier."

Amar looked at her intently. Was she real?

"The king was childless" she continued, "He urgently needed an heir, who must be born to a Rajput mother. So I was chosen. My father said it was an honour to be the heir’s mother. I was yet to fall in love with someone. But I had my dreams. The dreams of tender moments in cool full moon nights. Of being in the arms of a handsome mate..."

Despite himself, Amar couldn’t help asking, "But the king was old, wasn’t he?"

"Yes. Old, ugly and a boor. A sadist. Had no respect for my feelings. Took me every night as if only his lust was sacrosanct. His lust, and the heir’s arrival. I burned with rage for being treated like a raand... a whore. But was helpless. When my mother came to meet me, I cried in her lap. She could only weep with me, for me. She too was a woman, equally at the mercy of the so called gallant men."

Sandhya moved towards Amar. He felt no fear. For the first time he became aware of the tinkling of her anklets and her body’s subtle, enchanting fragrance.

She looked into his eyes and smiled, "Yesterday night you didn’t allow me to see your wife. Today I saw her. Charming. And your child... that’s how my son looked when he was born. Chubby, pink cheeks...tiny hands, angelic smile... But unlike your wife I wasn’t allowed to feed my child. A wet nurse was employed. I seethed with fury. Why should my milk go waste? But that was the custom. I wanted to avenge the destruction of my dreams. I wanted to hurt the loutish king. Soon I got my chance..."

She placed her hands on Amar’s shoulders and continued, "I poisoned my son when the wet nurse was away. And then I also took the poison. I wanted to inflict mortal pain on the king. I wanted him to weep for the rest of his life as I had... funny I could see our two bodies - turned blue, when they entered the heir’s room. The king cried in impotent rage. I felt avenged."

Amar began to move back, avoiding the woman’s hand. Was Sandhya alive or dead? Was Jaswant right about spooks? And all those ghost stories, more real than imagination?

He asked, "If you’re dead, how come you are here? This fragrance, the tinkling anklets..."

She laughed, "All this is a mere make-believe, what the sages refer to as Maya. You live in a false world. Evil. Deceptive. Cruel. Come to my world where all passions are becalmed. There is no need for these weapons. They are worthless anyway as you just found out. We sing and dance and live as we please, free from all want. No power struggles, no ego problems, no deceit."

"If what you say is true, then why did you show your grotesque and evil aspect last night?"

"It was just a play. No harm done, or was it?"

"No. Not really. Tell me, are all in your world free of passions?"

"Yes. Indeed."

"How come?"

"Simple. We no longer have to perform any karma. Whatever we were destined to do was already performed when we lived on the earth as mortals. Now we await the result of our actions."

"So, you become free from all worldly obligations. And now you are in a sort of limbo. Momentarily free from the vagaries of destiny, and yet waiting for the next cycle of fate-bound existence. Then all is tranquil and worry-free in your world?"

"Oh yes."

"Have you met the Almighty?"

She laughed at his naivete, "No. He doesn’t live with us. His is a higher world that only a chosen few enter. These fortunate ones become free from the life-and-death cycle, and live in perennially sublime contentment."

"And you. Aren’t you worried of the consequences of your actions as a mother and a queen?"

"No. One must not regret one’s actions. Only learn from their consequences. Whatever will be my next birth I hope to be a better being."

"Will you be able to recall this resolve in your next birth?"

"Maybe not. That’s why our destiny is preplanned here itself, so that we get to choose our actions - good or bad. Accordingly our fate will be moulded on the earth as well as after death."

"There seems to be a lot going on in your world."

"Would you like to come with me?"

"No. I’ve my wife and son to think of."

"Your wife and son... hmmm!"

"Why do you say that?"

"I was thinking aloud. Yes. Love. Both of you love each other, don’t you? I saw that this morning when I came to your place."

"So it was you..."

"Of course."

"And you were at the aerodrome too?"

"Yes."

"You say that your world is merely a transit camp. Then how come the spirits I saw dancing around the blue bonfire at the aerodrome are still in your world?"

"What do you mean?"

"People say that they are the ghosts of those who died in the world wars..."

"Rumours. Those who died in the world wars or even in the subsequent conflicts have long since moved on to their next destinations. What you saw was a new group from recent communal violence."

"They were dancing, and not mourning or howling with anger..."

"Don’t judge us by your standards. Along with our bodies we shed our attributes too, barring one - mild curiosity."

"Curiosity?"

"Yes. We are always curious not only about our fate, but also about people’s reactions when they face us."

"You love to scare people."

"No. In fact we don’t like to scare them at all. We just observe their reactions. We keep changing forms, which confuses you..."

"But there are good and evil spirits."

"Not true. We cannot benefit or harm you, or anyone else in any manner. We have no control over anything - material or otherwise."

"Then all those ghost stories..."

"Imagination. If someone comes to harm, it is only because he loses control of his senses on seeing us. We are incapable of hurting anyone."

Amar Nath looked at the door. The storm had stopped.

"You’re lucky. As is your wife." Sandhya interrupted his thoughts, "Tender and genuine love is the best gift one can have in your world. But it’s so rare. I wish ..."

She fell into a brooding silence.

"I think I should go." Amar said looking at his watch.

"Yes. It’s going to be dawn soon. I too must leave for my world. Remember, sooner or later all mortals must pass through my world. They stay here for a period, then leave for their respective destinations...final or transient. You’ll have to do the same when your time comes."

She smiled at him and slowly melted away.

It was dark again.

Amar holstered his revolver and stumbled out of the room.

Jaswant lay on the cabin’s sandy floor in deep slumber.

Amar woke him up gently.

"Wh... You are back?"

"Yes. Let’s go."

"But didn’t you see any ghost? And what took you all night?"

Amar laughed, "I was having a chat with a lovely ghost about her world and mine."

He looked back at the palace. The first rays of the dawn had just lit up one of its ramparts. The building looked like a forlorn dinosaur in the daylight. Was Sandhya’s spirit a reality? Did he actually talk to her, or was it a hallucination resulting from the night’s darkness? A mix of fear and imagination?

Or perhaps another world did exist between the heaven and the earth. Only after death would he learn the truth.

Amar shrugged his shoulders and gave his bike a wide throttle. The surprised Jaswant clung to Amar as the motorbike accelerated towards the pink-gold-silvery dawn.

He looked to his right and then to the left.

Nothing.

He heard heavy breathing and the sound of someone climbing the stairs near the opposite wall.

Amar took out his revolver and removed the safety catch. He crouched and moved silently towards the direction from where the sound was coming.

"Who’s there? Stop or I shoot."

"You had said the same thing last night, remember?" An amused female voice replied.

Amar fired. The report echoed in the empty hall accompanied by a soft, almost inaudible chuckle.

The room lit up in a bluish light. A woman appeared on the carpeted stairway as if by magic. She was glowing in the blue and white halo that enveloped her. She began to climb down the stairs. Her steps were measured, like she had been used to the place for ages.

She was exquisitely beautiful. Large eyes, chiselled facial features, full mouth, sparkling teeth and long, rich, flowing tresses. She was dressed in Rajasthani ghagra-choli - colourful, embroidered, glimmering with pearls-and-mirror work.

She was the same woman Amar had met the previous night. Yet somehow she was different. He was wonder-struck with her beauty.

"Who are you?" Amar asked, covering her with his revolver.

"Sandhya."

"Sandhya?"

"That was my name, when I had entered this palace as a twenty year old."

"Are you a princess?"

"Was. The queen of this place, when the British ruled India. But before that, as a teenager, I was a commoner. Daughter of a foot soldier."

Amar looked at her intently. Was she real?

"The king was childless" she continued, "He urgently needed an heir, who must be born to a Rajput mother. So I was chosen. My father said it was an honour to be the heir’s mother. I was yet to fall in love with someone. But I had my dreams. The dreams of tender moments in cool full moon nights. Of being in the arms of a handsome mate..."

Despite himself, Amar couldn’t help asking, "But the king was old, wasn’t he?"

"Yes. Old, ugly and a boor. A sadist. Had no respect for my feelings. Took me every night as if only his lust was sacrosanct. His lust, and the heir’s arrival. I burned with rage for being treated like a raand... a whore. But was helpless. When my mother came to meet me, I cried in her lap. She could only weep with me, for me. She too was a woman, equally at the mercy of the so called gallant men."

Sandhya moved towards Amar. He felt no fear. For the first time he became aware of the tinkling of her anklets and her body’s subtle, enchanting fragrance.

She looked into his eyes and smiled, "Yesterday night you didn’t allow me to see your wife. Today I saw her. Charming. And your child... that’s how my son looked when he was born. Chubby, pink cheeks...tiny hands, angelic smile... But unlike your wife I wasn’t allowed to feed my child. A wet nurse was employed. I seethed with fury. Why should my milk go waste? But that was the custom. I wanted to avenge the destruction of my dreams. I wanted to hurt the loutish king. Soon I got my chance..."

She placed her hands on Amar’s shoulders and continued, "I poisoned my son when the wet nurse was away. And then I also took the poison. I wanted to inflict mortal pain on the king. I wanted him to weep for the rest of his life as I had... funny I could see our two bodies - turned blue, when they entered the heir’s room. The king cried in impotent rage. I felt avenged."

Amar began to move back, avoiding the woman’s hand. Was Sandhya alive or dead? Was Jaswant right about spooks? And all those ghost stories, more real than imagination?

He asked, "If you’re dead, how come you are here? This fragrance, the tinkling anklets..."

She laughed, "All this is a mere make-believe, what the sages refer to as Maya. You live in a false world. Evil. Deceptive. Cruel. Come to my world where all passions are becalmed. There is no need for these weapons. They are worthless anyway as you just found out. We sing and dance and live as we please, free from all want. No power struggles, no ego problems, no deceit."

"If what you say is true, then why did you show your grotesque and evil aspect last night?"

"It was just a play. No harm done, or was it?"

"No. Not really. Tell me, are all in your world free of passions?"

"Yes. Indeed."

"How come?"

"Simple. We no longer have to perform any karma. Whatever we were destined to do was already performed when we lived on the earth as mortals. Now we await the result of our actions."

"So, you become free from all worldly obligations. And now you are in a sort of limbo. Momentarily free from the vagaries of destiny, and yet waiting for the next cycle of fate-bound existence. Then all is tranquil and worry-free in your world?"

"Oh yes."

"Have you met the Almighty?"

She laughed at his naivete, "No. He doesn’t live with us. His is a higher world that only a chosen few enter. These fortunate ones become free from the life-and-death cycle, and live in perennially sublime contentment."

"And you. Aren’t you worried of the consequences of your actions as a mother and a queen?"

"No. One must not regret one’s actions. Only learn from their consequences. Whatever will be my next birth I hope to be a better being."

"Will you be able to recall this resolve in your next birth?"

"Maybe not. That’s why our destiny is preplanned here itself, so that we get to choose our actions - good or bad. Accordingly our fate will be moulded on the earth as well as after death."

"There seems to be a lot going on in your world."

"Would you like to come with me?"

"No. I’ve my wife and son to think of."

"Your wife and son... hmmm!"

"Why do you say that?"

"I was thinking aloud. Yes. Love. Both of you love each other, don’t you? I saw that this morning when I came to your place."

"So it was you..."

"Of course."

"And you were at the aerodrome too?"

"Yes."

"You say that your world is merely a transit camp. Then how come the spirits I saw dancing around the blue bonfire at the aerodrome are still in your world?"

"What do you mean?"

"People say that they are the ghosts of those who died in the world wars..."

"Rumours. Those who died in the world wars or even in the subsequent conflicts have long since moved on to their next destinations. What you saw was a new group from recent communal violence."

"They were dancing, and not mourning or howling with anger..."

"Don’t judge us by your standards. Along with our bodies we shed our attributes too, barring one - mild curiosity."

"Curiosity?"

"Yes. We are always curious not only about our fate, but also about people’s reactions when they face us."

"You love to scare people."

"No. In fact we don’t like to scare them at all. We just observe their reactions. We keep changing forms, which confuses you..."

"But there are good and evil spirits."

"Not true. We cannot benefit or harm you, or anyone else in any manner. We have no control over anything - material or otherwise."

"Then all those ghost stories..."

"Imagination. If someone comes to harm, it is only because he loses control of his senses on seeing us. We are incapable of hurting anyone."

Amar Nath looked at the door. The storm had stopped.

"You’re lucky. As is your wife." Sandhya interrupted his thoughts, "Tender and genuine love is the best gift one can have in your world. But it’s so rare. I wish ..."

She fell into a brooding silence.

"I think I should go." Amar said looking at his watch.

"Yes. It’s going to be dawn soon. I too must leave for my world. Remember, sooner or later all mortals must pass through my world. They stay here for a period, then leave for their respective destinations...final or transient. You’ll have to do the same when your time comes."

She smiled at him and slowly melted away.

It was dark again.

Amar holstered his revolver and stumbled out of the room.

Jaswant lay on the cabin’s sandy floor in deep slumber.

Amar woke him up gently.

"Wh... You are back?"

"Yes. Let’s go."

"But didn’t you see any ghost? And what took you all night?"

Amar laughed, "I was having a chat with a lovely ghost about her world and mine."

He looked back at the palace. The first rays of the dawn had just lit up one of its ramparts. The building looked like a forlorn dinosaur in the daylight. Was Sandhya’s spirit a reality? Did he actually talk to her, or was it a hallucination resulting from the night’s darkness? A mix of fear and imagination?

Or perhaps another world did exist between the heaven and the earth. Only after death would he learn the truth.

Amar shrugged his shoulders and gave his bike a wide throttle. The surprised Jaswant clung to Amar as the motorbike accelerated towards the pink-gold-silvery dawn.

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