Fear. What is fear? The unpleasant emotional state consisting of psychological and psychophysiological responses to a real or imaginary external threat or danger. But is that enough to define what fear truly is. You can never understand true fear unless you feel it for yourself.
And that brings me to a time before me. Year 1990. Three years before I was born. My parents lived in a joint family that was slowly but steadily breaking apart. It wasn't a bad thing though for the ones who stayed back (which included my parents and my father's youngest brother) on my forefather's land (in Baguiati) because they had the entire land for themselves. It just meant a little more space for each person.
The last person to leave the house was my father's youngest sister. And it was on this auspicious day of her reception that my mother encountered something which will haunt her whenever she is alone in the dark.
Now one thing that you all should know that my family wasn't that well off. We hardly could make our ends meet. So our house wasn't that luxury of a house too. It had it's drawbacks. It had it's shortcomings. But nonetheless it was the house that gave us shelter for around 50 years.
November 23rd. Winter breeze was blowing from the north. It was the day when the story happened. Our family have been busy the entire day. Especially since my grandparents passed away and my parents were the eldest. So, naturally all the duty fell on them. It was the day of reception but still there was lot to be done. The reception was to be held at Howrah. So, naturally it took a lot of time to go and return.
By the time the vehicle returned home after dropping everyone at their respective houses, it was half past midnight. Cold winter nights usually have a natural malness in the air. My mother was the one to unlock the door and enter. My aunt also entered the house and went to her room to change. My mom went to her own room, while my father and my uncle was paying off the driver.
Naturally after having travelled a long distance as such she desperately needed to use the bathroom. As I told you that my family wasn't that well off, I failed to mention that it meant our house had insufficient amenities like lack of lighting at certain places and water related issues.
The position of the bathroom was actually weird. It seems a bit funny to me now when I think that one had to actually leave the house and go a bit distance to enter the bathroom. Now imagine doing that in a cold winter night. With obviously no lights. It already gives me the creeps. Anyways my mother left the house and passing the well that stood there since the time the house was made, she entered the bathroom. It was a broken dilapidated one. Moon light creeps in from here and there. Which could have been a source of light, if not it was a New Moon night. She didn't bring any candles with her, because she was really in a hurry. As she went in she didn't feel right at the beginning, but she went in anyways. She, slowly minding her steps, went in a little further. And as she was about to finish what she had come for, she thought she felt a breath on her arms. She held her breath for a second and again she felt a breath on her arms. An unknown yet strong fear gripped her heart. She froze for a second. Then she slowly stepped back. And as she tried to run out of the bathroom something tried to grab her but failed. She didn't look behind for a second. She screamed and she ran. Hearing the screams my father and uncle came running. They already had the torches with them. They ran towards the bathroom as my mom aimed her finger towards that ugly looking pile of brick that somehow came to life nurtured by the darkness that shrouded every inch of it and the screams of my mother poured an evil soul into it. As my father rushed towards it with the torch, there was nothing but an empty echo of a terror that dwelled there minutes ago reliving itself again and again with every echo of her scream. That night she hardly slept.
After that night. That bathroom was taken down. And a new loo space was built adjacent to the house so that no one had to go out at the middle of the night. And it was properly lit. That night not only scared my mom, but everyone of the house and whoever heard the story. But what my mother felt can't be empathized, can't be felt.
She told me that story many a times. She said she can't forget that night. She still dreams about that night. When I ask her that," Why so? Are you still scared about that night? ". She says that yes, she was scared but not now. Now it's not the fear of the event that scares her or keeps her awake and gives her nightmares. Now, it's the curiosity that keeps her awake. The curiosity to know who it truly was. Or so to say, what it truly was.
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