‘Don’t be a fool!’ Bharoo’s rebuking voice hit his mind like a whip. ‘Come back to the room,’ he ordered his assistant telepathically.
“Please! Please help me!” The child pleaded with him. “An evil tantrik has buried me here; he’ll kill me when he returns. My mommy will be so worried about me.”
Twinkle fumbled and was torn between his desire to help the kid and obey his master. He took one step forward and two backward, unable to decide. His boots began to skid on the ground, as he felt a mysterious force, which was pulling him backwards. Seeing that the eyes of the boy suddenly turned red, as if they were electric bulbs and his gaze became affixed on Twinkle.
The latter felt that the grip of the power pulling him back had weakened before he was free. The eyes of the pleading boy reverted to a normal state, but authority replaced his earlier desperation. “Come here!” He ordered Twinkle.
The spastic man walked towards the boy mesmerized and was about to hold the latter’s outstretched hand when the ghost of Shemshar suddenly materialized behind Twinkle and pulled him back by putting its arms around his waist. The child with only his torso above the ground became enraged as the expressions on his face changed dramatically. Innocence was replaced by fury and he turned into a demonic Langoor (Leaf-monkey). It jumped out of the ground and tried to catch hold of his escaping victim. Twinkle was astonished to see that the child-turned-animal had only a skeleton below the waist! The devilish being was jumping, making threatening noises – like an angry monkey – desperate to pounce on Twinkle and seize him.
And it nearly succeeded, but for the extraordinary effort put in by the ghost send by Bharoo. Thrice the demonic-langoor pounced on Twinkle and tried to jibe him in the arm or legs; but Shemshar pulled away from the former and the creature could only bite air in its jaws, instead of its victim’s flesh. The holographic (three-dimensional) life-size image of tantrik Bharoo, bathed in blue light appeared next to them and shooed away the little devilish being. Angry at its defeat, it hopped away on its skeleton-toes, grinding its teeth and making angry noises.
“Bring Twinkle inside!” Ordered Bharoo before his apparition vanished.
The ghost of Shemshar floated three inches above the ground behind Twinkle on their way back to the tomb. It was surprised by the demonic langoor, when the latter jumped on it from the branch of a tree from above. Apparently, the creature had not gone away but had only hidden itself waiting for an opportunity to strike back, which had come surprisingly early. The Ghost fell down; unable to overcome the demonic being, which had turned extremely aggressive in his rage.
Unaware of what had happened to him, Twinkle continued to walk towards the tomb, but before he reached it, he heard the wailing of women from the other side. Unchaste by the previous incident and unmindful of the danger, he went in the direction from where that noise came. He reached the rear side of the tomb and saw three Muslim women in veils sitting near the graves that were inside the tomb-premises.
He felt mesmerized all over again, as his legs took him in that direction. The women wearing Burka (full-body veil) were shaking their heads and wailing as if their close relatives had died recently and were buried in those graves. As Twinkle reached near them, one of the women turned back her face at him. In the light of the lantern put up on one of the graves, he saw the brown eyes of the woman from which kaajal (eye-liner) had been washed away because of the tears; the rest of her face was hidden behind the veil. He was inundated by the fragrance of fresh Jasmine flowers; the scents of burning incense sticks and ittar (feminine perfume) worn by those women.
Like a moth is drawn to a flame, he also felt drawn towards the woman who wore silver bangles and bracelets in her wrists; wanting to wipe her tears and console her. But he was unable to find the words to express his feelings and merely asked, “What happened? Why (do) you cry?”
“Our men have died and are buried here; we cry for them,” she answered in chaste Urdu.
“Who (were) they?”
“They were the caretakers of this tomb; we’ll go to Badshah Salamat and ask that we widows be given the salary of our late husbands.”
“(Did) They die in (an) accident?”
“No; they died because of old age and disease. My husband was 60; I was his third wife,” she replied in the same strange dialect, which was very difficult for Twinkle to understand.
“What (Who is) Badshah?”
“The Badshah of Moghul Sultanate, who rules Hindustan (India),” she answered. She glanced carefully at the other women, who were crying in a fake or theatrical manner and then signalled with her finger for Twinkle to follow her.
Mesmerized by her brown eyes, he walked behind her; she took him to an opening a little distance from the graves and asked in a low voice, “Are you married?”
“No; why?”
“My husband has left me childless and an infertile woman is ostracized by the society. And I also miss enjoying the bliss of youth; will you marry me and make me a mother? You will get the saabab (reward) of this noble deed in Jannat (Heaven); I know a Qazi who will perform our Nikaah (marriage) at a small expense.
“Ni…Nikah? Qazi?” Twinkle asked confused.
By that time the other women had stopped crying and were walking purposefully towards them. Twinkle’s companion recovered quickly and said in a hurried manner, “We’ll pay the Qazi and he’ll do everything; you just agree to marry me!” She pleaded.
“Look at the shameless whore!” Said the second woman as she reached near them. “It hasn’t been much time since her husband’s died, and she has already started to look for new lovers. Don’t fall in Shabnam’s trap young man; she’s a jinxed woman, her husband died within a year of his marrying her.”
“Shut up you filthy bitch!” Shabnam said angrily. “Every time I find a man, you and your cousin try to steal him from me. I know that you two had poisoned your old husbands, to elope with boys who were younger than you. You cry on your husband’s graves not because you loved them, but because you have nowhere to go since those boys ran away with all your valuables.”
“Shabnam is a liar, young man, don’t believe what she says,” continued the third woman, “Our husbands died because of sickness and it was actually she, who had poisoned her husband. And when we caught her red-handed with her dead husband’s nephew in her hut, she accused us instead of keeping boyfriends.”
“This man looks a pagla (mentally challenged),” said the second woman.
“So what? He has the body of a wrestler,” said the third woman with lust in her voice. “Why don’t we push Shabnam in the well and both marry this man? We will sleep on his either side and make him father our children.”
“No, no, don’t leave me, I’ll satisfy you totally,” said Shabnam as she embraced Twinkle in desperation.
For the first time in his adult life, Twinkle realized that women were different. As Shabnam held him tightly against her, he was inundated by the scent coming from her body and her hair; but warmth and softness were conspicuous by their absence. Her body was cold as ice and stiff as if made of stone. He pushed her away; irritated by the way a stranger was forcing herself on him and invading his personal space.
“You can’t keep him for yourself Shabnam,” said the second woman. “What about our pyaas (sexual-thirst)? Either you agree to share him with the two of us or fight with us!” She gave an ultimatum.
Before she could respond, the ghost of Shemshar appeared next to Twinkle and said, “Don’t be deceived by what you see; they are not real women, but ghosts like me. See them through my eyes,” it said and blew air on Twinkle’s eyes.
Twinkle blinked his eyes involuntarily and when he was able to focus them on the three women in burkas, he saw that it was three skeletons, wearing silver jewellery in their necks and wrists, standing before him. Before Twinkle could react, the three ghosts pounced on Shemshar, infuriated by his intrusion. They fought like wild cats and thrashed Bharoo’s slave severely, while Twinkle ran back to the tomb, stu
mbling repeatedly on his way there.
One of the skeletons ran behind him, to catch its escaping victim, only to be confronted by the three-dimensional holographic image of Bharoo that came in its path and shooed it away. Protesting with throwing its hands and legs in the air and grating its teeth, the skeleton flew back towards the graves in a flash. It was followed by the apparition of Bharoo Tantrik, which rescued its ghost Shemshar and forced the three ghosts to beat a hasty retreat.
It was half an hour later that Bharoo opened his eyes, at the completion of his sadhna for the night. “Twinkle! What have you been up to? Do you realize how much trouble you have caused in one single night for me and Shemshar?”
“I…I went to urinate, that monkey like boy…and that woman-”
“That woman and her companions have been dead for more than 300 years and their ghosts have been wandering in this tomb and its surroundings ever since. And that boy; he was the son of one of the women, killed by her jealous husband, which suspected the character of his much younger wife. He buried the boy alive in the ground, along with a wooden pipe through which air passed and kept him alive for a few days. The rodents and worms ate his body slowly up to his waist and he died an agonizing death. This place is haunted, but no ghost will dare to enter this room or disturb my work because of the protective force field I have created here. You should never venture out of this tomb without my permission or accompanied by either me or Shemshar, understood?”
Twinkle nodded his head vigorously, only half understanding the story his master had narrated, but he was able to comprehend the warning given by latter. “No (to) go outside, (there is) danger outside,” he said.
“Yes,” Bharoo said and then recalled the ghost he commanded. “What is Warlock doing?” He asked.
The ghost vanished and only his voice sounded in the emptiness of the room, as the image of Rudolf in his glass-pyramid was relayed on one of the walls – as if by a projector. What the ghost saw was projected on the wall; which was also simultaneously relayed inside the mind of blind Bharoo. His assistant Twinkle looked at the wall with mild interest and heard Shemshar saying, “Warlock has chanted the saavri mantra 10,000 times and has thus finished his work for tonight, but since he has to chant it 20,000 more times, it will take him at least two more nights to complete the invocation. His Ghost Harinath was busy keeping the ghosts and demonic powers away from his master.”
“Dismissed!” Bharoo said and the image being projected on the wall vanished. After a pause, he said, “We’ll sleep in the adjoining room Twinkle; and leave this place only after our work is completed on the third night. It is quite dangerous to go outside; when we’re away from the protective magical circle, we’ll be in danger of attack by evil spirits and our enemy.”
Twinkle held a burning candle in one hand and holding Bharoo’s hand in other, led him to the other room. The fire in the iron-saucer had all but extinguished and only smouldering ash remained. While the tantrik lay down on the mat spread on the stone floor – mentally drained and exhausted; the ever-hungry Twinkle opened a food packet to eat a very late night snack with Fanta.
“Don’t dare to go outside the tomb, no matter who calls you; whether your mother, Shemshar or even me,” warned Bharoo for the last time before turning away.
Twinkle’s hunger was satisfied after eating and drinking his favourite things and he too lay down to rest beside his master, falling asleep after an unexpectedly adventurous and eventful night. He dreamt of the Muslim women and the boy with its skeleton showing below the waist, throughout the night in his disturbed sleep. Only when his mother appeared in a dream in the early hours of the morning, was he somewhat calm and able to overcome his agitated state, which had penetrated deep into his subconscious.
It was the third night, when Rudolf, dressed up in his robe was sitting in the glass pyramid atop the farmhouse in his estate. He was continuing with the Bhadrakali Saavri Sadhan – the invocation that he had started two nights earlier. He had a chaumukhi deepak (four-sided lamp), a statue of goddess Kali and the fire built in an iron saucer in front of him, which lit the surroundings in a red-yellow hue; he was chanting the mantra arithmetically and occasionally added liquor and other ingredients in the fire that made it flutter. A lamb tied with a rope with the iron frame of the pyramid was making scared noises that were completely ignored by him.
There had been disturbances of varying degree throughout the previous nights, but on this occasion, it started merely half an hour into his invocation. He was thrown in the air and pushed backwards numerous times, but with closed eyes, he steadfastly continued chanting the mantra. Many times his eyes opened involuntarily and he saw evil spirits hovering above; snakes, lizards, and scorpions crawling on the floor, walls and also over his body; throwing them off, he still persisted. He knew that they were only illusions, designed to interrupt his invocation. He knew that as long as he remained in the protective tantra-circle, no power could hurt him.
“Rudolf! Rudolf!” A familiar voice cried out his name with a German accent.
Again his eyes opened involuntarily. While continuing with the mantra, holding a necklace of beads to count the number of times he chanted it, Rudolf saw his grandmother struggling for her life, fighting a Lion. “Help me!” She shouted.
So sudden was the occurrence and such powerful was its impact that Rudolf was about to rush to the aid of his nearest living relative. But his mental alertness came to his rescue, and he realized the impossibility of the Austrian witch appearing in his Delhi farmhouse. And as soon as he mentally decided that he would not be affected by it, the apparition vanished.
Everything fell silent succeeding that and he continued with his invocation, rushing towards its completion until an unforeseen and unusual interruption occurred half an hour later. Many people burst in through the glass door of the pyramid; the light attached to a video camera and the repeatedly shinning flashlight of a camera blinded Rudolf. He raised his hand to protect his eyes and saw Inspector Uday Thakur, his sworn enemy step forward. He had a poisonous smile on his lips and had aimed his pistol at Rudolf.
“Now I have caught you red-handed Warlock; I’ll get your bail cancelled and have you thrown behind bars. Even that high-priced lawyer of yours will not be able to save you now. Get up and come with us!” He ordered in a harsh and rude manner.
Rudolf was greatly frustrated at that unexpected turn of events and could only wonder as to who had tipped off that Crime Branch sleuth about his presence and activities there. He was about to get up when a sudden thought blazed through his mind and struck it like lightning. He continued with his chanting and closing his eyes, ignored the Inspector and the police-party accompanying him.
“Have you become deaf? I said get up,” shouted Inspector Thakur in an angry voice. “Raise your hands above your head and surrender or by God I’ll shoot you!” He warned Rudolf.
But the latter still persisted with his activities, until he heard the shot fired from the pistol; the bullet hit him in his left arm and he fell down on his face. Like a survivor of a capsized boat, hanging by a floating wooden board or log in the swirling waters, he chanted the mantra – hoping against hope.
“This man has gone crazy, Sa’ab,” Rudolf could hear a constable say to Inspector Thakur. The next thing he knew, he was lifted by many hands and carried downstairs and laid in the rear seat of a Police S.U.V. Struggling for breath, as a man possessed, he continued to chant in his lips. He felt the vehicle moving as his body tumbled…and then everything came to a standstill. Was he dead? He wondered.
His eyes opened and he saw himself back in the glass-pyramid, sitting in the same cross-legged posture, as he had been before the cops had busted inside. His hand instinctively went to the place that he had been shot at; there was neither a wound nor any blood or any pain. It was now clear that the elaborate illusion had been a ploy, to make him interrupt and abandon his invocation in the middle, but it had not succeeded because Rudolf had held his nerve. There was no time for s
elf-praise, much less for celebration; however, as Harry’s warning sounded in his mind. ‘Beware Warlock! The perimeter has been breached, we are under attack!’
Following those words, there was a deafening explosion and the glass-pyramid blew up. It was as if a bomb of 100 Kilograms of T.N.T. had been dropped from the sky, with the terrace of the farmhouse as the epicentre! The glass walls of the pyramid were shattered into a zillion fragments; its iron frame mangled and was blown away instantly. Rudolf’s eardrums were burst and he was deafened by the explosion, flying glass cut his body at every place and he was enveloped in the huge ball of fire that burned him and caused great pain.
But miraculously he did not die; and when he opened his eyes, with his clothes burnt and his blackened skin hanging from many places; he saw the most amazing sight of his entire life. The glass pyramid was gone and he was sitting on the terrace looking at the sky above, which was lit in an orange hue. And as shankhs (oyster-shell) were blown, drums were beating, the sky high above was torn in one place and a creature flew down from that breach. As it descended, Rudolf saw the super-gigantic size of the being, which was mind-boggling! It was a black buffalo, roughly the size of ten biggest dinosaurs put together and it majestically came down, without flapping any wings to stay airborne. As it lowered its head, the amazed Caucasian saw Goddess Bhadrakali sitting on its neck.
The way she was depicted in paintings and idols did not do justice to her. She was the personification of great and pure power, which inspired tremendous awe and struck unlimited fear in any person that saw her. Her tongue – red with fresh blood, was hanging out of her mouth; her many hands wielded a variety of weapons and she wore the long necklace of severed human heads with blood dripping from them around her neck. Her ornaments and crown were glittering with jewels, diamonds, pearls, and other gems. And her eyes burned with such intensity that a person could not meet their glace even for fraction of a second. It was no wonder, that the toughest of tantriks lost their mental balance and ran away terrorized when the great Goddess appeared in all her splendour and majestic might.
Valley of Death Page 5
