By Dr. Dhrubajyoti Bora

Monalisha’s jaw dropped at the sight of the sprawling two-storey building. She couldn’t believe her own eyes and just stared at the building from a few hundred feet away. It was like a fortress, entrapped in a vast campus. She held her daughter Riya on her right shoulder, and clutched one hand of her housemaid, Sabitri, who was only thirteen years old; and pushed open one panel of the big iron gate, and entered into its campus. As she was told by her husband, Sandipon, the building would provide her life away from the hustle and bustle of the town. Though not far away from the town, it seemed to enjoy its uniqueness in a serene and silent ambiance. But only walking a few steps, Monalisha understood she was mistaken. Only the massive architecture was adding an extra vibe to the building, otherwise, it was a lustreless, uncared building. Fallen leaves of the big trees in the campus littered the whole front yard. The boundary wall was overgrown by creepers and head-high shrubs and grasses. The exterior was in great need of fresh painting, or at least a whitewash. Stepping onto the veranda, she looked for the calling bell. A huge door guarded the entrance of the building, and without finding a bell to buzz, she tapped on the door softly. No response. She had already traveled a long distance along with her belongings, at one point, she felt irritated. The driver of the pickup van with his two helpers was waiting under the scorching afternoon summer sun. Monalisha pounded on the door several times to bring anybody’s attention even from the remotest part of the building. Though the door was sturdy, because of the bygone years, it lost its grip onto the sidewall, and the whole front wall almost trembled under her fist. Monalisha heard someone unlatch the door from inside, and it was flung open. A wrinkled, grey-haired old lady stood before her, with a question mark in her eyes.

Seeing the penetrating gaze of the lady, Monalisha fumbled for words. She had expected a kind of welcoming face before her, but this face confused her.

“I mean… I was… in search of a rented house, and my husband told me about this house… One of his friends… Yes, Somnath suggested about this house,’’ Monalisha reiterated.

Now the lady smiled and her eyes glittered. ‘’Oh yes, Somnath told me yesterday,’’ She fumbled, ‘’Oh no! Perhaps some days ago that some tenants are coming, please come in.’’

The lady ushered them inside. She switched on a light and the room filled with a faint yellow illumination. She once tried to poke Riya’s cheek, but Riya flinched away. Monalisha smiled helplessly.

‘’So, you came by bus,’’ the old lady said while settling herself on a wicker chair before Monalisha. Monalisha got a hint that if somehow this lady happened to strike up a conversation, it would last till dusk.

Monalisha said hesitatingly, “Aaita, can you please show us the room, our pickup van is waiting outside.’’

‘’Oh! I see,’’ She got up and came to the doorway, lifted the curtain, and narrowed her gaze towards the gate. She adjusted her head several times before speaking out, ‘’Yes, I see them.’’ Then she turned at Monalisha, said, ‘’Follow me.’’

With a wide base staggering gait, the lady led them to a staircase on the left side of the large drawing-room. She stopped for a moment before clasping at the handrail and then limped up the staircase as if she had been under great physical pain.

‘’I’m having arthritis. My joints have become stiff, so I find climbing very painful,’’ the old lady said in a bit of pain.

‘’Oh!’’ Monalisha exhaled. She felt sorry for no reason. She thought to herself, “Obviously, it is the lady’s duty to show them their room. She then said sympathetically, “you could’ve given me the keys, I could’ve checked the rooms myself.’’

The lady stopped. She glared back at Monalisha as if she had told her a forbidden tale. “This is your first day in this house, and I’m the owner. How is it possible to let you enter the part that has been lying vacant for last seven years?’’ she quipped.

“Seven years?’’ Monalisha’s mouth gaped wide enough for a rosgulla to go freely down her gullet.

The lady found ecstasy at her exclamation. “I’m just joking,” she chuckled, adding “the part was vacated only a month ago. Come now.’’ The lady resumed her climbing.

The lady ultimately stopped at the far end of the long corridor on the first floor. She pulled out a bundle of keys from her waist and fingered over them for the right one until her hand stopped at a particular key, and as she introduced the key into the lock and turned two rounds anticlockwise, the lock opened. She unlocked the latch and pushed open the door.

They stepped inside. A musty stale air almost suffocated them. Riya let out bouts of cough. The lady pulled apart the dirty window curtains. Monalisha reached near a window and opened it. She saw the boundary wall was running only three or four feet away from the house. A large mango tree was just outside the wall, and its one overgrown branch almost reached the wall of the house.

“Nobody even once thought to cut those branches,” Monalisha muttered.

It was a three-room part with one drawing room, one bedroom, one storeroom, enough for a family. Monalisha went downstairs with the lady and waved at the driver of the pickup van. They took an hour to shift Monalisha’s belongings to her new house, and it took Monalisha another hour to arrange the things inside. Monalisha decided to settle on khichdi as supper. By the time they had finished their supper, it was quarter past ten and the whole house was drowned in absolute stillness.

At midnight, Monalisha’s sleep was interrupted. The ceiling fan had already surrendered revolving, making the room hot and suffocated. She felt sweat beads at her neck creases and forehead. She fanned herself with the edge of her blanket. Riya and Sabitri were in deep sleep, curled up. After a few minutes, as the previous day’s tiredness came over, she again went to sleep, but not that deep this time.

Monalisha went through some bizarre dreams in her sleep. Then she woke up to the sound of footsteps outside her main door. She rubbed her eyes and straightened her ears. At first, she mistook it for some kind of auditory hallucination, but after a few seconds, she clearly heard someone climbing upstairs with heavy steps and stopped outside abruptly. Who could be? Was there any thief or robber outside? She trembled and rose to her back. A long pause, the silence seemed distressing. A jackal howled bitterly just outside the boundary wall, perhaps near the mango tree, sending a shiver down Monalisha’s spine. Her exclamatory reaction broke the slumber of the two sleeping beside her. Riya wanted to shriek out of fear, but somehow Monalisha cupped her mouth shut. Suddenly Monalisha saw a shadow crawling on all fours over the window glass towards the ventilator. A bird perched on one of the branches of the mango tree flapped its wings vigorously and at one point it snapped. They remained huddled at the corner of the bed, away from the window. How was the old lady downstairs?

Then someone bounded up the staircase and disappeared just before the door.

A voice was heard outside, “Monalisha!’’

It was the voice of the old lady, Monalisha recognized.

Before a single word came out of Monalisha’s mouth, Sabitri frantically cupped her mouth with her tiny hands, and soon Monalisha realized Sabitri did a wise thing.

The lady giggled outside. She increased the thumping on the door realizing they were frightened inside.

The lady frantically yelled, “open the door. They haven’t eaten anything for long. We will feast on them tonight.’’

The pounding doubled. At one moment the door was hit so heavily that the whole adjoining wall trembled violently. Monalisha stared at the door helplessly, in horror.

Suddenly they heard a sound, like a gust of wind, and someone fell on the ground floor with a shriek. Monalisha remembered she had hung a photo of Shiva – Parbati at the doorway in the evening. She brought Riya’s face close to her chest and said, “Don’t worry darling, nothing bad will happen to us.’’

In the morning, after gathering enough courage, they opened the door, hurried downstairs, and rushed out of the house. When they were finally out of the gate, Monalisha looked back and saw the old lady staring at them from the doorway.

They reached a nearby PCO booth. She hurriedly called Sandipon and explained in detail the happenings during the night. Sandipon asked her to calm down and assured her of reaching by evening. As Monalisha walked out of the PCO, the PCO boy, who was eavesdropping on her conversation, asked, “Madam, why did you stay at that haunted house? The house has been lying vacant for the last seven years. Moreover, this place is Rangapara, not Rongpur!’’

“What?’’, Monalisha exclaimed in horror. She soon understood that she had missed Sandipon’s instructions properly as she was in a hurry.

The boy continued, “A wealthy widow was living in that house with her two sons. But she lost her sons in bizarre accidents. One boy died after stumbling over a half-buried stone; the other died after falling from the mango tree. The widow herself committed suicide seven years back by hanging herself off the ceiling fan in the drawing-room.’’

After this, Monalisha was in no mood to hear anything else. The previous night’s horror was still pounding in her heart. Her only aim was to leave the house at once.