The karate club had flourished to new bounds ever since Fire sir had taken over. Duelling was still on though nobody got hurt. Fire Sir presided every duel with a keen eye. For two weeks now, they had been practising for their first ever belt. Jyotsna had observed Anwar performing extraordinary feats. Fire sir himself had joined in to applause Anwar’s excellent three feet high round kick. Anwar, Jyotsna and Fire sir had become friends ever since he accompanied them to the hospital wing. Jyotsna had learnt that Fire sir was an orphan, and had served the Kolkata police as an Inspector before retiring voluntarily. He lived inside the school in one of the quarters made for the scullery maid when the school was still a royal fort. He had invited them to visit his dwelling. After the class ended, Jyotsna & Anwar started to follow him. He stopped abruptly so that Jyotsna rammed her head straight into his back. She looked around and saw Fire sir staring at Sabu sir who was talking anima
Mr. Sharma couldn’t believe his ears! Right before his eyes Nelson disappeared and now his father was dead. He couldn’t fathom what fate had befallen on the unfortunate accountant’s family. Grief changed to fear when he realised he was privy to an information that might very well have been the reason for the accountant’s death. For it was just a few weeks ago when Mr. Abraham had met him. His eyes were dark and looked tired. Twice he was heard arguing loudly with Mr. Nandy and on the day his kid disappeared, he had stayed late from work. All Mr. Sharma could think off was keeping Jyotsna safe. He turned off the television and turned to his wife. “Lock the door and do not open until you are sure it’s me” Mrs. Sharma looked bewildered. “What’s the…” But before she could finish, Mr. Sharma held her shoulders in a tight grip and said, “Do as I say. Do not open the door for anyone! I’ll be back within the hour.” Before he stepped out, he turn
Jyotsna was up at dawn, but somehow she still had a great deal to pack. Her mother dashed around the house looking for clothes and valuables. Her father ran into Jyotsna in the living room, still in his pajamas holding a steaming mug, tea dripping on the floor. Anwar’s mother had arrived to help them. Her red hair floated behind her as she ran around the house running errands. Mr. Jawed nearly tripped over the trunk her mother had jam packed with clothes. At last, they entered a taxi, an old ambassador Padmini, Anwar accompanying them to the school. They had barely driven for a minute when they were back. Jyotsna had forgotten her chemistry set. Two minutes after that they skidded to a halt inside the school administration building. They unloaded their suitcases and their cycles and Jyotsna boarded the third room on the first floor of the girl’s dormitory. Then, she waved her parents goodbye as Anwar stood beside her. The car disappeared around the curb.Jyotsna l
It was mid-April in a small village in Bengal, some forty kilometres from Kolkata. Jyotsna Sharma was sitting in one corner of a classroom, overlooking the field outside. Purple flowers adorned the grass here and there and a small sparrow sat in ambush, perched atop a small bush, waiting for the juiciest grasshopper to wander its way. Jyotsna was a regular eleven year old and was as white as marble and as thin as a twig. Her father had a day job and was a part time community priest. An eternal Brahmin, he was proud of his ‘Gotra’, the lineage. They descended from the great seer, Rishi Kashyap in whose honor the Indian state of Kashmir was named. Jyotsna lived in a small industrial village of Kaligram where her father worked as the testing supervisor in the factory. They lived in the company quarters that had a huge playground, a temple and a small shopping corner where you could buy groceries, stationary and other essentials. School was a block away, just around the
It was three thirty in the evening when Jyotsna and Anwar went back. They sneaked through their secret tunnel (they called it a tunnel for want of a better word) and tiptoed to the classroom. It was empty except Jyotsna’s bag and Anwar’s slate on the teacher’s desk. Someone might have put it there.“I won’t go home”, Anwar said.“Where will you go then?” Jyotsna’s interest peaked.Anwar just looked at her and shrugged his shoulder, “Abba will kill me if he finds out what I did. But you don’t go telling him anything”“I won’t” she pouted.“Swear it! Or I’ll tell about your diary!”“I swear I won’t tell” She stormed out of the class leaving him behind. The diary was a secret she had entrusted Anwar with! She couldn’t imagine he would use it to his advantage. It was a crime! She thought. While she walked out of the
Anwar and Jyotsna hid behind a guava tree twenty feet away from Mahadev’s house. Mahadev was jumping up and down running across the small front with a stick in his raised hand, shouting at invisible men. A whitewashed sign near the entrance read Mr. R K Nandi, General Manager, Franco Midland Electrical Hardware Limited.“Let’s kick him in the guts” Anwar said with gritted teeth.“No! You’ll be in more trouble” Jyotsna said and briskly walked at the gate, ignoring a perplexed Mahadev.The curtains were drawn on the windows and it was cooler inside. There was no one in the living room. A faint sound of a news reporter babbling on the radio greeted her as did the mouth-watering aroma of deep fried spices. Mahadev dashed inside and the three started to squabble.Hearing the commotion, a tall and lean woman entered the room. She wore a red printed sari with the trail end neatly tucked into her slim waist. A torrent of
Jyotsna was shaken awake by her mother early the next morning. “Wake up”, she said, “school starts in twenty minutes”. Jyotsna sat up and stretched her arms, yawning loudly. A dull ache throbbed her head as she slipped down the bed and looked around, struggling not to jump down the soft mattress and snore away in peace. Her brown school tunic and white shirt was neatly laid over a chair and a lunch box wrapped in newspaper was on her study table, courtesy of her mother. She peered out the window. An already bright sun was shining over the lawn, reflecting on the pearl shaped morning dew. She squinted towards the forest he and Anwar had traversed last night and a strange chill engulfed her. Her head throbbed mightily and for an instant, she felt like going back to sleep. But then the faint aroma of incense sticks and the sound of prayer bell filled her with hope. She clenched her fist and got dressed for school. She met Anwar inside the class, neatly dressed, hairs stic
Jyotsna felt a sudden curiosity firing her neurons. She stepped out of her bed and went straight to the roof of the building. Anwar was already sitting there with Etan and Brojen, the notorious twins. They were the nosiest boys she had ever know, both in the sixth grade. With a smile she reserved for the worst of crimes, she asked Anwar, “what’s the ghost of Raja Kirshna what’s-it?” The three of them gave her a weak smile. Brojen twirled his right hand and did a sort of a bow and Etan said, “When the factory workers came here ten years ago, when all this was just a huge jungle with an empty factory building and a few huts scattered here and there, the local dwellers, the adivasi’s here talked about a legend. They believed that the ghost of Raja Krishnachandra made travellers lose their way and lured them in.” “Where did he lure them into?” she asked flinging her legs across the thin walls separating the two buildings. “No one knows. Probably deep inside the j
The next few days, students were escorted to their classes and a strict vigilance was maintained in the school. Fire sir could be found standing beside the assembly hall staring menacingly at students roaming around the front door. The corridors went deserted except for the file of students being escorted to science labs or library. Any laughter in the school stifled soon and sounded unnatural. Jyotsna, Anwar, Etan and Brojen found themselves sticking together, like sort of a team. The three boys endlessly discussed the ghost legend and kept asking Anwar to recount his experience. Meanwhile, Mahadev had gathered a gang around himself. Ruben and Bani, thick necked and curly haired, roared with laughter whenever he did a ridiculous impression of Anwar trapped in the jungle with the ‘bhulo’. “Hey, Anwar!” shirked Piu, a slim little brown girl, “I’ve heard you are friends with the floating heads?” “Ignore them” hissed Jyotsna as they jumped down the tables and sat on the