𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖓𝖉.𝖇

I scream in pain and fear but no sound comes from my trembling lips. The pressure on my wrist grows and my mother transforms into a shadowy figure, yielding her fine and gentle profile to a hideous silhouette. The face appears like the mask of death, eyes set deep inside pitch black sockets. The moonbeams that only moments ago seemed strong and felt soothing in the hot summer night began to shrink and yield its territory to darkness. My mother-like tormentor clutched at my wrist and seemed to go on until the bone breaks or life ebbs out of my frail body. At last, I break out of the nightmare and rush downstairs, hardly bothering to pick up the sleeping gear from the open air on the rooftop.

I remember mother cautioned me not to sleep alone up on the terrace where the branches of the Ashoka and the Mango trees loomed overhead and nocturnal creatures kept up a steady murmur through the lonely night. I had ignored her advice because the heat of the summer I could not bear and the electric fan in the room only recycled hot and used air in endless eddies. But she was right of course, I thought, as I glided down the bannister, lonely nights created such special effects for me that perhaps rivalled Ramgopal Verma's in Bhoot.

The house seemed unusually unquiet in that hour of the night when not a leaf stirred on the roof and the neighbourhood seemed like a land deserted after burying its dead following a deadly storm. Women in gypsy dress, the banjarans, seemed to be flitting in and out of rooms. Where did these people come from? I don't remember having any guests in the house. We didn't hire any maids either. But what on earth were they doing in my house, strutting about it at midnight?

What is all the commotion, Ma? Who are these people? I spoke to the walls hoping she was awake and would respond from her room. A flush of the cistern from the bathroom sounded and Ma couldn't possibly respond. The bathroom door opened and shut at the same instant. Almost immediately I looked into her room. Ma was not there. There was no light in the bathroom and its door appeared shut. Where is she? She couldn't have passed me by; there was only one exit from the room and I blocked its doorway.

I looked around wondering where on earth in that unearthly hour she could be. A figure detached itself from a shadow in the hall. The faint light from the street lighted the curtains in gossamer green and a light wind played about their ends. A maiden in bare feet came into view. She was a gypsy, her red skirt hung below her knees and her arms decked in the wide white bangles. The banjara girl, of the lambada clan known to have lived in the very place where we had our houses built after they were driven out, walked jauntily across the room and disappeared into my father's room. She seemed so engrossed in herself that she didn't notice me at all. Curious, I followed her stealthily. My father lay flat on his bed and appeared to be in some difficulty, for his breath was short and fast and his body unmoving. The girl went near the bed when all of a sudden I saw the figure of a woman materialize in the darkness. I saw her sitting on the bed beside my father. She was staring at him in a quiet and composed manner as though she was reading his mind. She looked up as the girl neared her and put a finger to her lips. The girl stood silently beside the woman and now they both watched father's reclining figure. I drew closer to the bed and lo! It was not my father but a stranger who lay still and appeared to be experiencing some difficulty breathing.

Who are you? I asked. Where is my mother? I spoke in a reasonably clear and perfectly audible tone, but the two women either ignored me or were deaf and blind both. I turned round and fled. I searched frantically, but there was no sign of my family. Then I began to notice things like walls, doors and cabinets. I realized that I was in the wrong house. How did I end up here? I came straight down the stairs but somehow they led into a different house. Did I take the wrong turn after getting down? There were only two possibilities, I thought furiously as I searched frantically for a way out, one turn led into the house, while the other led godknowswhere, for it was never used. Mother always made sure we never opened it, even in the day, for fear that we may forget to close it by night. Had it been left open then and I happened to stumble out of it into this horrid household where no one bothers to see me or hear what I have to say?

I started when not far from where I was I heard the low entreating wail of a woman. I stood still and strained my ears, but all I could hear was a murmur punctuated by sobs. I turned and walked stealthily toward a closed door from where I figured came the wailing entreaties. I stood near the door, applied my ear to it and listened. The voice spoke in a language that I did not understand. I was about to push the door when out of the corner of my eye I saw the gypsy girl approaching. I trembled, feeling ashamed to be caught snooping, and stared stupidly at her. She came up and close to me and before I could step aside the gap between us narrowed so fast I could hardly move. And then a strange thing happened: she went right through me as if I were not there at all, opened the door and let herself in. What is this? I frowned and shook my head. Is she a ghost or some goblin? Has she come to terrify me? Was she related somehow to the man on the bed and the woman sitting by his side? I pushed the door open and saw the girl consoling the woman who went on wailing and weeping non-stop. I shuddered and returned to my search for the exit again.

I could see no more than a few feet at a time and that made it difficult for me to move with speed. It seemed quite odd that light should follow me, for wherever I went there was a pool of light beyond which it was dark and quiet. I looked up but the ceiling was perhaps too high to be in the light. The source of light eluded me as much as the exit from this strange house which had unimaginably long corridors and cleverly concealed light bulbs. Oddly enough whichever way I turned there was a path and I could go on and on until I wanted to turn. It was as though the path were following me! How did I ever end up in this place I could not remember and I seemed to have left the wailing woman and the sick man quite some way back considering the distance covered and the time elapsed. Aren't there any more rooms in here? I thought and stretched my hand beyond the light pool. There. Yes. It is the door all right. I pushed it gently and it opened. A sound like that of heavy breathing came from a corner and I went further and looked up. It was the same man who had been lying still on the bed in a room back there. I looked around and lo! The watching woman materialized and as I made her figure out in the darkness, the door opened and the gypsy girl came in jauntily when the woman put her finger to the lips and warned her to be quiet. My breath quickened and I slipped out of the door quietly and wondered if I had not returned to the same place after turning round the corridor so many times. A low murmur of a wail pricked my ears and the gypsy came out, walked through me and disappeared into the other room to console the wailing woman. This was more than I could bear. Even if I returned to the previous place by accident, why should they want to repeat their moves exactly as before? Are they mad people? Am I in an asylum or something?

I remembered my flight down the stairs and through blind reckoning I found myself at their foot. I climbed the stairs holding on to the bannister and reached into the open air rooftop. I found the bed, jumped into it and huddled into a foetal position. Presently I felt the grip of a hand holding my wrist and the pressure on it grew with each passing moment. I screamed and felt a violent shove on my chest. I opened my eyes and looked into the warm and comforting eyes of my mother. Wake up, she was saying over and over again. I sat up now fully awake and heard my mother speaking in low endearing tones. Hearing a knock on the door below we got up and looked over the balcony. The housemaid was at the door. She looked haggard and much agitated. When questioned she informed that her uncle had died in the night and her aunt was inconsolable and wailed through the night until her man had passed away.