The Green Room

by Nag Mani

  “Sir, a girl died in this school in 1989. Her body was never recovered and it was believed that she had been taken by a leopard. But this is not what had happened, Sir!” He noticed Harry shift in his place. “She was raped and then murdered. Her body was hidden. A leopard was probably shot down to cover it up.”

  Mr. Lawrence gaped at him in disbelief, his mouth slightly open. He looked as if Rohan was fluently speaking a language he did not understand. “Did you even hear yourself, boy!”

  “You really think the school authorities will let this happen, right under their noses?” asked the warden, almost amused.

  “Yes, Sir,” Rohan replied, “because the then principal, Mr. Williams was himself involved. He died in an accident a few years later. The forest officer who confirmed the role of a leopard and the guard who killed it, also died afterwards.”

  “Mr. Agarwal,” Mr. Lawrence lost his temper, “you will not…”

  “I saw the girl,” Rohan cut in. “She haunts the Green Room. I don’t know if what I saw was a dream. But I followed her and saw it happen. And when it ended, I found myself in the forest.”

  “Sir,” the warden said, “I think this boy is mentally sick. We should deport him to a hospital. He can come up with any sort of story to cover up, from what I conclude, a failed attempt to win some sort of bet.”

  “This story is ridiculous,” Rohan retorted. “I have far better stories to cover up my failed attempt to win some sort of bet.”

  “Enough is enough!” Mr. Lawrence stood up once again. “I will not tolerate any more nonsense from you. How dare you point your finger at this school! It has over a hundred and fifty years of glorious history. This school does not need you, you need this school! How dare you!”

  “Sir, every student in the past hundred and fifty years has contributed to the glory of this school. But lately, I think this school is only concerned about its glory and not its students.”

  “We don’t care about our students?” the warden stood up now.

  “No, Sir, because a student who played on the school team for years has just been declared mentally ill because he said something that would defame this school. There has been queer things going on in the Green Room for years, and I am sure the school authorities know about it.” He threw a glance at Harry. “And please don’t tell me, Sir, that a leopard can take a girl away without leaving any trace.”

  Harry cleared his throat. “Let me inform you, young man,” he said in his British accent, “the leopard did leave a trail. The forest officials found pug marks and traced it to a leopard that had gone missing from the Corbett National Park. They also found bits of uniform that Kajal wore. And based on these evidences, it was then declared that she had been taken away by a man-eater. The deaths that you talked about are purely coincidental. Please don’t you let your imagination run wild!”

  “Sir, those pug marks were fake!” Rohan defended. He had no concrete reason to believe it, but, somehow, everything made more sense. The forest officer killed himself because he knew the pug marks were all fake! And maybe, he even arranged for the innocent leopard to be sacrificed. He must have been haunted by his guilt, or more likely, by Kajal herself.

  Mr. Lawrence opened his drawer. He took out a blank sheet of paper, a pen, and then placed a revolver on his desk. “I am done with your nonsense. Here,” he pointed at the paper, “write down why you went into the forest, and I want the truth. You write down everything, as it happened, and I might consider when your father begs at my feet. You utter another word I don’t like, and I shoot you! Tell him, Mr. Kumar, I am legally allowed to shoot students, maniacs such as yourself. I have never done it, but I can start with you!”

  Really! What am I? A five-year old?

  Nevertheless, Rohan had no choice. He picked up the pen and began to write. He had accepted a challenge to go into the forest at night.

  “Ah! I knew it!” The warden was exultant. His hands went into his pockets. “Now write down who gave you this challenge.”

  Rohan paused. The warden needed names to drag as many students into this case as possible. He continued. He had himself declared that he was not scared to venture into the forest and was eager to prove it. His classmates tried to talk him out, but he didn’t listen. His act was immature and he now regretted it. Rohan knew they had no idea he was in the Green Room as well, so he went straight into the forest and fainted because of cold.

  The warden was following him closely. “Now, write down that you were spotted unconscious early in the morning by a villager. It was 4:15 AM and his name was Pawan. Write down everything in detail, as you remember it.”

  “Sir, as you said, I was spotted unconscious. I do not remember anything.”

  “Just write it down. The time was ‘four-fif-teen-a-m’. His name was Pawan - P-A-W-A-N. He carried you back to the Infirmary. Sister took you in at ‘four-forty-five-a-m’.”

  Rohan wrote as directed and handed him the paper. The warden read it twice before passing it to Mr. Lawrence. “Now,” said Mr. Lawrence, “go back to the Infirmary and stay there till your father comes to take you. You talk to anyone and that person walks out of the gates with you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “Now get out!”

  Rohan marched out the room. He wouldn’t let his father apologise. He would simply walk out with him. His father would understand.

  9. THE PLAN

  Mr. Edward Smith Chapman was the director of the play. Mr. Adam Smith Williams had invited him to visit the school. It was a clear indication that he wanted to end their family feud and Mr. Chapman eagerly accepted it. Moreover, the Chapmans had played a major role in the Board of Directors for generations. It was during that visit that Mr. Chapman expressed his desire to direct a play for the school and Mr. Williams was more than happy to grant him the permission.

  Harry lit a cigar. He had just finished dinner in his room and was contemplating over what the boy had said. It came as a shock. Yet, it was the bitter truth. He knew something terrible had happened to that girl, probably a fatal accident. Mr. Chapman had stayed back in the school for a few days and even actively participated in searches conducted privately by the school. He then left quietly, while Mr. Williams covered everything up. He had to do it. It was what the time demanded, else there would be utter chaos. The school’s reputation would have come crashing down. Mr. Williams had hidden her body. It was a clever move. People would have developed sympathy for her otherwise. There would be protests, questions would be raised. But there was no dead body. There was confusion. The girl had run away. It was her own fault. Students were emotional, but the school did whatever it could. It hunted down her killer.

  Harry was blissfully unaware of this incident until last year when he joined the Board of Directors and had to come back to India. He visited Mr. Chapman in his mansion in the outskirts of Manali. Mr. Chapman did not come to receive him. He sent his servants. He was sick, his servants said; and they also told him stories. It was only a matter of time before he realised why Mr. Chapman became sick, why he kept inflicting wounds upon himself, why he never slept in peace.

  Harry remembered watching him sitting all alone in his dingy room. He would sit there, in front of an old dusty mirror, staring at himself, sometimes throughout the day. The servants would leave by nightfall. No one dared stay once the darkness fell. Sometimes, Mr. Chapman would leave the mansion at night and disappear into the forests around. He would return before dawn, bearing fresh wounds on his body, his clothes torn and soaked in blood. Harry consulted a doctor. The doctor visited the house and recommended Mr. Chapman be taken to his facility in Dehra Dun. A few weeks after the visitation, the doctor sent his staffs and a pick-up van. Mr. Chapman was sitting in front of the mirror when they came. They entered his room; and they saw something in the mirror, for they shrieked and ran out of the house. They drove away never to return.

  One night Harry had followed him out. He did not remember much about it; only that there was a h
eavy mist. He could see Mr. Chapman staggering ahead of him. He was sobbing. He had tried to call him back but in vain. Mr. Chapman did not seem to hear him. The dark shapes of the forest loomed ahead. Then there were these vague shapes floating above him. He had not paid attention to them initially, but they seemed to be moving. It was only when he reached the edge of the forest that he realised what they were. Something had moved above him… a shadow in the mist. He remembered the rotten smell that had followed. He had looked up at those shapes hovering among the foliage. Did they look familiar… human-like? Were they men and women standing in the sky…?

  He knew he had fainted. He was carried home by local villagers the next morning. Mr. Chapman had returned with fresh cuts on his face. Harry did not find the need to consult a doctor again. He needed to know what was happening. Harry tried to extract details from him, but there was nothing he could make out from his mumbling. But he got a name, a girl’s name. Soon, he related the name to the girl who had died in Queen Victoria School in 1989. He then began to pull strings. The madness had started to come over two years after the unfortunate incident. Mr. Chapman had sought help from a priest in a small temple in one of the remote mountains seventeen years ago. He was given a talisman. It worked, but not for long. She’s becoming stronger, Mr. Chapman often mumbled in those days.

  Harry wanted to end it, once and for all. There had been an accident, but everyone had paid for it. Mr. Chapman’s condition was insufferable. The dead body had been relocated and only Mr. Williams knew where it was and who had done it, for the two men never spoke to each other after the incident. He dug old graves. A guard, Ramesh, had shot down the leopard and suspiciously, it was near his village the animal was first rumoured to be seen. Harry traced him to a small village in the outskirts of Shimla. He was himself in trouble and was eager to help. But his body was found in pieces the next day.

  It was a dead end. But Harry didn’t give up. Soon he found another string to hold on to. A play in the year 1993 had been cancelled due to paranormal activities in the Green Room. Harry contacted and personally visited each student involved. It was then he saw the broader picture. All he needed was a change of perspective. The ghost was only giving signs, a desperate attempt to tell everyone what had happened. But the students were terrorised. The incident was still fresh in their minds.

  Harry had a plan. He needed those signs and he needed to interpret them. He needed to find her body and quietly get rid of it. He talked Mr. Lawrence into preparing a play for fund generation. It had to be the same play, the Wizard of Oz. He needed a person who would be present in all practice sessions, a person who could confidentially investigate, a person whom he could trust. So, he recommended Anjali as the director of the play. And finally, he needed one or two sceptical and brave students. He was thinking about his plan near the Chapel one night when he saw a boy lock a guard-room. He was thrilled. The boy and his friends were raiding the Warden’s Office. He needed them and fate gave them to him on silver platter. All three of them were selected without as much as a word from him. The principal did grumble a bit about senior students’ academic performance and the English teacher did delay with the casting, but he didn’t care. His plan was in motion. He kept quiet and watched.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Come in!”

  “You lied to me!” Anjali stormed in.

  “The boy is making up stories,” Harry blurted.

  “Oh! Is he?” Anjali was snarling at him.

  “Anjali, listen…”

  “How dare you use me to cover this hideous crime?”

  “Anjali, listen to me. Let’s get it over with. We have a play to finish. Let’s stick with the plan.”

  “There was no play, Harry. The play was never intended to be finished. You said there had been an accident. You said you wanted an opportunity to amend things. You told me to take up this play. But you knew all along!”

  “He is lying, please…”

  “You know he is not. And it’s only a matter of time before they find out where her body was hidden.”

  “He is not going to do anything. He only made a fool of himself and got himself expelled.”

  “Yes! And all because of you. What is he going to do now? Why should you care? You continue planning your amendments. ”

  “I will cancel his expulsion, I promise. Please let’s get this over with; let’s stick to our plan.”

  “Plan? Your plan has failed, Harry. There was something you never anticipated. The boy is not scared of her – he is attracted to her! Don’t you see it even now? If he can follow her into the forest, he can do anything to uncover the story.”

  “He doesn’t know where it was hidden.”

  “She trusted him. And I am sure he knows where it is. And coming to think of it, she has far better judgement of people than you… or me…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I quit.”

  “What? You can’t just walk out on me.”

  “I never wanted to, but I can’t be a part of…” her voice trailed off.

  “I understand, but trust me, I didn’t know. I thought it was only an accident…”

  “…I can’t be a part of your life.” She took off her platinum engagement ring and threw it at him. It hit his chest and fell clattering on the floor.

  Harry’s jaw dropped open. Tears were forming in her eyes, yet her face was resolute. She meant it.

  “But I love you,” he stammered.

  “Never mind! You will find someone else.” With that she marched out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her.

  10. UNDER THE MOON

  Rohan awoke early next morning and lay in his bed for hours. It was the last day of examination, and after lunch, everyone would be celebrating. Everyone, except him. Holidays were only two days away. He just wanted to see Chandni once more. He had always pictured himself standing behind the Library, watching her as she hugged her friends and bade farewell. They would then see her off to her car. She would wave them good-byes as her car rolled away, not even aware of the boy watching her from the Library. But now, even this dream was shattered. He would not be seeing her at all.

  He spent the entire day in bed. He had been kept in isolation on the first floor. Later that evening, he heard noises downstairs. It appeared that a group of students had been admitted to the Infirmary. He wondered what could have happened to them. Anyway, they were not alone like he was. Night fell and the moon shone brightly through the windows. He crawled out of the bed and looked at the Field. The sky was littered with stars. Dark shapes of mountains rose and fell and then mingled with the hazy horizon. The west seemed reluctant to accept the darkness, for it still held on to the dying shades of crimson the sun had left behind. Something flew across the Field. He watched it glide over the Auditorium, and his eyes fell on Chandni; she was standing alone in the balcony.

  He could not refrain himself from running down. Sister was off-duty and was sleeping in her room. “I forgot something in the Auditorium,” he told the attendant. “Can I go and get it?”

  “Quick!” The attendant replied hesitatingly.

  Rohan ran to the balcony. Chandni was leaning against the railing under the full glare of the moon, her eyes wandering aimlessly. “Hi!” he beamed, as he breathlessly made his way through scattered furniture.

  She jumped around, startled. “Oh, hi!” her face lit up. “What did you do?”

  Rohan told her everything he had seen the previous night. She listened quietly. Her frown deepened as his story advanced. “Of course, they didn’t believe me,” he concluded. “I had to admit it was some sort of dare.”

  “This is…” she could not find the right word, and turned away. They remained quiet, looking at the lights emanating from the Staff-Quarters across the silvery Field. “I can’t believe it happened in our school,” she said at length. “How could they do that to her!”

  “They refuse to accept it even now,” Rohan said.

  “Of cours
e! What you said was insane. I would not have believed you had I not seen her myself. But what about you? Did they beat you again?”

  “No, they didn’t. Just expelled me!”

  “They won’t expel you,” Chandni tried to cheer him up.

  “They already did. I am just waiting for someone to come and take me home.”

  “No, they didn’t. It would only raise questions on the school’s security.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I met Mr. Lawrence today. He is not going to expel you. But you are fired from the play.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” she patted him. “You can come back next year.”

  Rohan felt a heavy burden fall off. He realised that she was standing very close to him. Her skin was flawless, smoother than silk. Her face was as white as the moon and her eyes sparkled like stars. A small stone glinted on her ear, and somehow, this small piece of jewellery was more charming than the night itself. He wanted to just stand there and watch her while the universe moved on; watch her till he grew old and died; and he would still be content with his life. But she was sad. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

  “Nothing!” she shifted slightly. “Besides you almost getting expelled, everything is fine.” She put on a fake smile. She was an excellent actor, but hadn’t mastered her eyes.

  He stepped closer. She held her ground. Her earring shimmered once before falling in the shadows of her hair. “You can tell me.” He looked into her eyes.

  Her expression changed. “What’s the use?” her voice became heavy. “It won’t help. Please don’t bother. Go and enjoy with your friends.”

  “Please, I want to know.”

  She studied him for a moment. “Anjali left. Mr. Kumar, your warden, has taken over.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Mr. Kumar said she was fired or something. Now please go!” she pushed him gently. “He will not want to see you here.”