The Night Shadows of villages.

A tranquil village with bamboo clusters and dark ponds, Jamalpur was a heady mix of the sounds of nature coming to life amidst deep silence. Vegetation such as crickets played their soothing melodies, and the wind brought along the light whiff of wet soil. Everything was fabulous until a single incident changed it forever. Rasel, a wiry cowhand, stayed behind to complete his routine chores. Salma, his better half, coaxed him to come back early. Her voice was shaking as she stirred the rice pot. Whenever it came to the well, it was always a mystery for people as the folks around Jamal said that her spirit lingered forever, screaming for assistance during the night. Rasel by mistake ended up visiting the old crumbling well and was taken back by the sight.

Rasel dismisses the myths while he finishes the last detail of the coffin by nailing it shut – the lantern light still flickering. It was just past mobile when he noticed it, a quiet but gentle and deep chuckle coming from the well. His heart beats rapidly, but he reaffirms within himself that everything is just fine. This time, the laughter transforms into a whisper, saying: “Rasel… come see me…”

The winds flew uncontrollably, the lantern containing his life essence dimming as though something were exhaling on it. He let go of the hammer and began withdrawing, but the whispers became incessant. This time, it was a child’s voice, sharp venomous words oozing from her mouth. “You didn’t help me… why didn’t you help?” Rasel’s blood became cold on heat. Although he hadn’t witnessed the girl.