Chapter 1. Don't freak out! Dear one!
21st October 2012
The shikara swayed on the calm water making no sound at all, as we sailed through water lilies. It was midnight. The moon was vaguely visible on the smooth water. The reflection blurred as I ran my fingers through it. Nothing but the voice of crickets could be heard.
This was after decades that I had visited Kashmir, my hometown. Right now, I was not alone. Abdur bhai was taking me to my mansion as only he was the one who knew the way. He was an adult, not looking more or less than sixty. His tall and twiglike physique was covered by a huge Kurta, till his ankles. He was the palest person I had ever seen; dark, shrunken eyes and a typical Kashmiri style beard and moustache completed his looks. He also wore a white turban. After reaching Keran, my village, I had asked him to take me to my mansion, he hadn’t said one word, just smiled, disgusting the hell out of me from his tobacco stained, half decayed teeth. We had to sail as it was impossible to follow any other means. It had been an hour. He still hadn’t spoken anything, was repeatedly looking at me, smiling, then looking away. Maybe it was because he had never been with a girl, alone, at midnight, on the shikara and was being shy, or maybe he was mocking what was about to happen in my future. Either way, I had always been ready with a penknife in my pocket.
Weirdly enough, I was longing to hear his precious voice, so without hesitating, I said, “thank goodness I found you! All I had was your father’s photograph!'' He paused for a moment, then smiled then continued rowing.
Is he deaf? Or dumb?
I continued, “well, he is famous enough in Keran, that’s why I could finally find you” I grinned. Hearing this, his eyes widened, his expression changed and he finally opened his mouth to speak something, “yes...he is!” This was the sweetest, childlike voice, I had ever heard.
“He died under weird circumstances, that is why, people know him here”
“As in? under what circumstances?”
“you will know!” saying, he smirked.
It had been almost an hour. I looked at my phone, the network on my phone had been flickering already, “1 A.M.” I murmured. I lowered my hand from the boat, and took some water to wash my face. By now, I was exhausted completely and utterly needed some sleep. I had been travelling without break in the past five days, from New York to Delhi, Delhi to Srinagar, Srinagar to Keran. I needed to visit my mansion; it was my inherence. After I had heard the news of it being gradually captured by the local government, I immediately decided to come. Abdur bhai’s family had been the caretaker of the mansion. His grandfather used to work there as the watchman. Granny was alive back then. Then she died and after few years Abdur’s grandfather died too, appointing his son to take care of it. And soon after Abdur’s father died too, leaving Abdur bhai all by himself and he vowed to never ever return to the Mansion.
“You have to bear with the way, dear one!” he said smiling. “Don’t you want the money?” he smirked. I was shocked. How does he know?
“wait, what?” I enquired.
“ahh…nothing Miss, forget it!” he looked away.
I didn’t say anything. He was a strange man. Sometimes, he looked innocent and sensitive, but mostly his look was that of someone who is in guilt, as if he had been hiding something. I kept glaring at him, trying to observe him. He had already noticed me looking at him continuously. So, just to not make him think that I am a serial killer, I looked away.
“So, Bhaijaan, for how long have you been here? As in guarding the mansion?” I asked cheerfully.
He looked up at the sky, as if trying to remember something, then frowned.
“I don’t remember miss, for 10 years maybe, I used to visit it with Abba, when I was a kid,” he continued, “I remember, you were merely ten when you came here with your Abba, your nose ran, you had caught a cold!” then he nodded his head as if mocking me, and completed abruptly, “habituated to weather in foreign!”
“Papa, is no more!” I said looking down.
“I know, I know!” he said nodding his head, “that’s why you are here!” I looked at him, as if to find a hint of grief in his eyes, but there was none. I had heard from my father that he and Abdur, had been really good friends, but after we moved to America, they had not been in touch. In any way, I didn’t care. I should’ve cared.
“I remind you once again. Dear one. I won’t accompany you to the Mahal. My job is to row the boat. Not to take people to places!” his voice as if warning me.
I smiled, “Don’t worry Bhaijaan, I have come prepared” I said with confidence.
The shikara moved deeper and deeper into the darkness as we moved forward. All that shone was the lamp hanging on my right. On both sides of the river were tall chinar trees. Luckily, it was May so there had not been snowfall lately, but the weather was exceptionally cold. Soon we were in the open area. Abdur bhai anchored the boat, tying it to the nearby tree.
“It’s just one kilometre from here” he said pointing in the direction, then continued, “the old bridge that you see over there, cross that and you will be near a hill” I tried to look and smiled at the sight of it, “just in the opposite of the hill, is the Mahal, in the valley” he completed hastily. I nodded, carefully trying to grasp everything he had spoken.
“You got it Miss?” he asked.
“yes, sure” I said. As a matter of formality, I shook hands with him, “thanks for everything, sir!” He didn’t say anything, just turned back and left. I stood there and watched the shikara go away.
Luckily there was a trail on the ground. Golden and rusty Chinar leaves rustled as the chilled breeze moved through them. I kept following the track. “There are not many wild animals in the woods of Kashmir. You may find some Reindeers and all, other than that it’s a friendly forest,” I thought to myself. Soon I reached the bridge. It was a small, with a narrow stream running underneath. From there, the top of the mansion was visible already. Just the sight of it had filled me with pleasure. I moved forward, with an unusually fast pace, despite being a bean bag.
Right now, I was standing in the valley, looking at the enormous piece of art right in front of me. Now I knew, why people called it ‘Mahal’. It was, indeed. Partially snow-covered hill, in which, the mansion was embedded. The milky light of the moon had flooded entirely.
“Its beautiful!” I murmured in amazement.
Slowly, my hands moved on the huge gateway. Carved precisely, were figures of elephants and lions, as they are considered holy in Hinduism. Just by the sight of it, you can say how God-fearing Granny was. I smiled at the thought of it. In a tiny closet, hanging right up head, in wooden craving was written, ‘Gauri Devi and Ramani Mahal’.
I took out the bunch of keys, Abdur bhai had handed me. Then began my quest to open the lock on the gateway. One after another, by now, I had already tried almost ten keys, all in vain. “What the hell! Will ‘khul ja sim-sim’ work here! (‘Open Sesame’ reference to Alibaba and the Forty Thieves.)” I grumped.
Looking at one key, I could only wish, “please be this one''. I had been so tired; I could barely stand.
I slipped the key into the tiny hole of the lock. ''Please open! Please open!" I turned the key very slowly, the lock creaked and then the key got stuck.
''WHAT THE HELL!!!'' I screamed in anger after yeeting the keys away.
''Calm down child, whenever you feel like the dark clouds of aggression and anger are surrounding you, just relax and back count from ten" Baba Lovely's voice echoed in my head. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, '' ten'' I said, ''nine, eight, seven.''
Final try. The key was slipped in once more. Once more the rusty lock creaked. And, finally, the door opened. It was dark as hell. Only an eerie blue light poured in on the stairs in the very middle of the huge hall. For once, all senses present in my body had started to work together, my reflex instantly told me to back- off but I ignored it as usual. Every footstep of mine echoed through the hallway. I switched on the torch as blue, milky light flushed everything around me. I glared right and left vigorously moving my light.
“where is the freaking power lever?” I murmured to myself. Moving towards the right, I could clearly see the spider webs hanging on the walls, down almost on my face. The passage was small and dusty. It was so narrow that, two people of the same physique as mine could not pass together. there was no sign of the lever. I moved forward until stopped in front of a gate. It was the end. The entry was closed from a wooden door which looked older than Egypt and then a rusty grill covered it. For some reason, I found the design to be strange because of the twists and turns, as if someone had weaved it himself. Also, there was a vintage knock beside the gateway. It was weird as to why someone would add a doorbell on the inside of the house. I looked closely to admire how beautiful the doorbell was, it was a large, round ring attached to handle shaped like an elephant’s trunk, something was engraved on it. Something in Urdu. I ignored. I couldn’t read it anyways. And just like any horror movie, I too was tempted knock the door, but then decided to take this challenge in the morning.
I took a U turn, leaving behind impression of my foot on the dusty floor.
The lights were on now. Huge ‘jhoomar’ was dangling on my forehead. Its golden light flushed the entire hall. I was slouched in the corner of the staircase, breathing heavily. All sweaty. Adrenaline had flushed my body and I was shivering. I had lost my phone already.
Weirdly enough, I was longing to hear his precious voice, so without hesitating, I said, “thank goodness I found you! All I had was your father’s photograph!'' He paused for a moment, then smiled then continued rowing.
Is he deaf? Or dumb?
I continued, “well, he is famous enough in Keran, that’s why I could finally find you” I grinned. Hearing this, his eyes widened, his expression changed and he finally opened his mouth to speak something, “yes...he is!” This was the sweetest, childlike voice, I had ever heard.
“He died under weird circumstances, that is why, people know him here”
“As in? under what circumstances?”
“you will know!” saying, he smirked.
It had been almost an hour. I looked at my phone, the network on my phone had been flickering already, “1 A.M.” I murmured. I lowered my hand from the boat, and took some water to wash my face. By now, I was exhausted completely and utterly needed some sleep. I had been travelling without break in the past five days, from New York to Delhi, Delhi to Srinagar, Srinagar to Keran. I needed to visit my mansion; it was my inherence. After I had heard the news of it being gradually captured by the local government, I immediately decided to come. Abdur bhai’s family had been the caretaker of the mansion. His grandfather used to work there as the watchman. Granny was alive back then. Then she died and after few years Abdur’s grandfather died too, appointing his son to take care of it. And soon after Abdur’s father died too, leaving Abdur bhai all by himself and he vowed to never ever return to the Mansion.
“You have to bear with the way, dear one!” he said smiling. “Don’t you want the money?” he smirked. I was shocked. How does he know?
“wait, what?” I enquired.
“ahh…nothing Miss, forget it!” he looked away.
I didn’t say anything. He was a strange man. Sometimes, he looked innocent and sensitive, but mostly his look was that of someone who is in guilt, as if he had been hiding something. I kept glaring at him, trying to observe him. He had already noticed me looking at him continuously. So, just to not make him think that I am a serial killer, I looked away.
“So, Bhaijaan, for how long have you been here? As in guarding the mansion?” I asked cheerfully.
He looked up at the sky, as if trying to remember something, then frowned.
“I don’t remember miss, for 10 years maybe, I used to visit it with Abba, when I was a kid,” he continued, “I remember, you were merely ten when you came here with your Abba, your nose ran, you had caught a cold!” then he nodded his head as if mocking me, and completed abruptly, “habituated to weather in foreign!”
“Papa, is no more!” I said looking down.
“I know, I know!” he said nodding his head, “that’s why you are here!” I looked at him, as if to find a hint of grief in his eyes, but there was none. I had heard from my father that he and Abdur, had been really good friends, but after we moved to America, they had not been in touch. In any way, I didn’t care. I should’ve cared.
“I remind you once again. Dear one. I won’t accompany you to the Mahal. My job is to row the boat. Not to take people to places!” his voice as if warning me.
I smiled, “Don’t worry Bhaijaan, I have come prepared” I said with confidence.
The shikara moved deeper and deeper into the darkness as we moved forward. All that shone was the lamp hanging on my right. On both sides of the river were tall chinar trees. Luckily, it was May so there had not been snowfall lately, but the weather was exceptionally cold. Soon we were in the open area. Abdur bhai anchored the boat, tying it to the nearby tree.
“It’s just one kilometre from here” he said pointing in the direction, then continued, “the old bridge that you see over there, cross that and you will be near a hill” I tried to look and smiled at the sight of it, “just in the opposite of the hill, is the Mahal, in the valley” he completed hastily. I nodded, carefully trying to grasp everything he had spoken.
“You got it Miss?” he asked.
“yes, sure” I said. As a matter of formality, I shook hands with him, “thanks for everything, sir!” He didn’t say anything, just turned back and left. I stood there and watched the shikara go away.
Luckily there was a trail on the ground. Golden and rusty Chinar leaves rustled as the chilled breeze moved through them. I kept following the track. “There are not many wild animals in the woods of Kashmir. You may find some Reindeers and all, other than that it’s a friendly forest,” I thought to myself. Soon I reached the bridge. It was a small, with a narrow stream running underneath. From there, the top of the mansion was visible already. Just the sight of it had filled me with pleasure. I moved forward, with an unusually fast pace, despite being a bean bag.
Right now, I was standing in the valley, looking at the enormous piece of art right in front of me. Now I knew, why people called it ‘Mahal’. It was, indeed. Partially snow-covered hill, in which, the mansion was embedded. The milky light of the moon had flooded entirely.
“Its beautiful!” I murmured in amazement.
Slowly, my hands moved on the huge gateway. Carved precisely, were figures of elephants and lions, as they are considered holy in Hinduism. Just by the sight of it, you can say how God-fearing Granny was. I smiled at the thought of it. In a tiny closet, hanging right up head, in wooden craving was written, ‘Gauri Devi and Ramani Mahal’.
I took out the bunch of keys, Abdur bhai had handed me. Then began my quest to open the lock on the gateway. One after another, by now, I had already tried almost ten keys, all in vain. “What the hell! Will ‘khul ja sim-sim’ work here! (‘Open Sesame’ reference to Alibaba and the Forty Thieves.)” I grumped.
Looking at one key, I could only wish, “please be this one''. I had been so tired; I could barely stand.
I slipped the key into the tiny hole of the lock. ''Please open! Please open!" I turned the key very slowly, the lock creaked and then the key got stuck.
''WHAT THE HELL!!!'' I screamed in anger after yeeting the keys away.
''Calm down child, whenever you feel like the dark clouds of aggression and anger are surrounding you, just relax and back count from ten" Baba Lovely's voice echoed in my head. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, '' ten'' I said, ''nine, eight, seven.''
Final try. The key was slipped in once more. Once more the rusty lock creaked. And, finally, the door opened. It was dark as hell. Only an eerie blue light poured in on the stairs in the very middle of the huge hall. For once, all senses present in my body had started to work together, my reflex instantly told me to back- off but I ignored it as usual. Every footstep of mine echoed through the hallway. I switched on the torch as blue, milky light flushed everything around me. I glared right and left vigorously moving my light.
“where is the freaking power lever?” I murmured to myself. Moving towards the right, I could clearly see the spider webs hanging on the walls, down almost on my face. The passage was small and dusty. It was so narrow that, two people of the same physique as mine could not pass together. there was no sign of the lever. I moved forward until stopped in front of a gate. It was the end. The entry was closed from a wooden door which looked older than Egypt and then a rusty grill covered it. For some reason, I found the design to be strange because of the twists and turns, as if someone had weaved it himself. Also, there was a vintage knock beside the gateway. It was weird as to why someone would add a doorbell on the inside of the house. I looked closely to admire how beautiful the doorbell was, it was a large, round ring attached to handle shaped like an elephant’s trunk, something was engraved on it. Something in Urdu. I ignored. I couldn’t read it anyways. And just like any horror movie, I too was tempted knock the door, but then decided to take this challenge in the morning.
I took a U turn, leaving behind impression of my foot on the dusty floor.
The lights were on now. Huge ‘jhoomar’ was dangling on my forehead. Its golden light flushed the entire hall. I was slouched in the corner of the staircase, breathing heavily. All sweaty. Adrenaline had flushed my body and I was shivering. I had lost my phone already.
