Like a river, time or “waqt” is a moving element, a fluid element, and like a river, its normal movement is always forward, into the future. When moving forward, a river carries with it sediment and other residues of the terrain through which it passes. Similarly, the stream of time carries forward with it a very detailed imprint of the times and becomes a wonderful archive of the past. Often, a particular area witnesses events of such strong intensity that time moves on, but a copy of its imprint remains at that particular place and creates a supernatural atmosphere which can be distinctly felt even if nothing specific is seen or heard. In ordinary parlance, these places are said to be haunted.
Several kinds of “triggers” can cause “replays” and other supernatural phenomena.
These “triggers” include the entry or presence of living people at certain places, and this is what happened, with tragic consequences, in a park in south Delhi just a few months ago. Remnants of old ruins from the Tughlaq period, a remarkably well preserved monument from Mughal times along with other half-crumbled structures which have partially withstood the onslaught of time lie scattered in and around this park. This was one reason why Ram Singh, a retired history school teacher who lived close by, had always been fascinated with the area.
The well preserved monument in particular held a special fascination for himand he’d linger around even after dusk had fallen. That’s where I first met him and he offered to take me into the semi-dark eerie interiors. The stench from an accumulation of bat droppings combined with a feeling that we were in a different time zone were overpowering and I could distinctly sense moreover that the invisible forms inside the monument did not welcome our presence one bit. I made haste to leave but Ram Singh laughed at my reservations. “Spirits?” he said mockingly, “I’m all of 66 years old and have never yet seen a spirit. I don’t believe they exist. It’s just our imagination.”
As we emerged from the monument, dusk was setting in and he laughed even more at my concerns. “My wife Savita and I have been coming here for our evening walks every single day for years and years. I know every path, every stone here like the back of my hand and can find my way around even on the darkest night.” Curious, on another day, I asked the caretakers at the park if they knew Ram Singh and their brows furrowed, “We’ve warned him many times not to hang out at that monument around dusk. We know that it’s haunted. The spirits there keep to themselves, but why provoke them by intruding into their space. Before our badly — posting here, it seems they tried to strangle a man who insisted on sitting inside after dark. But Ram Singh Sir doesn’t listen to anyone. Something ill is bound to befall him.”
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And their words came true soon enough. Ram Singh had a disagreement with his son that morning and in the evening, as he and Savita reached the monument in the park, he gave vent to his anger by going inside and shouting, “So called spirits, where are you? I’ll prove to the world that I’m afraid neither of people who are alive like my son nor of dead people…” The rant went on, though his wife can’t recall now all the details. Only echoes answered his outburst, and this made him laugh and laugh as he joined a very disturbed Savita waiting outside. It was almost totally dark by now, and a shiver ran down Savita’s spine as she first heard something flapping and then saw a bat flying low overhead.
The bat accompanied them all the way home and as Savita opened the door, attempted to fly in to the house with them but Savita was quick to react and slammed the door shut. She heaved a sigh of relief but that relief was short-lived. About an hour later, when their son came home, the first thing he said was, “How strange, there’s a bat clinging to the parapet just above our door. I thought at first it’s a new wall hanging but what a weird choice, and then I discovered it’s a real bat”.
That night, Savita was awakened by Ram Singh switching on the light and flinging his slippers in different directions. “It’s an infernal rat and an infernal cat and oh, look, now that infernal bat has also come in…” Savita couldn’t see any of them. From that time onwards, Ram Singh continuously saw rats and cats and bats every night and waged a war against them. Savita and the rest of the family were aghast. Doctors opined he was suffering from a nervous disorder coupled with rapid senile decay.
But Savita knew it was angry spirits from the monument and they were teaching Ram Singh, the disbeliever, a lesson. A common acquaintance from the park called me and sought help. But alas, we could be of no help. Ram Singh let out a scream at around two at night, recounts Savita, and she quickly switched on the light. Ram Singh was lying motionless on their bed, his face covered by the bat. It was now Savita who screamed, and as family members opened the door and rushed in to the room, the bat flew out. Yet later, search as they might, they could find no sign of it. Savita is convinced to this day that the rats and the cats and the bat were spirits Ram Singh had insulted at the monument and they took their revenge by killing him.
Had Ram Singh not scoffed so mindlessly at the spirits in the monument, perhaps Ram Singh would have been alive today. Supernatural phenomena in buildings or in a specific area generally take place after sunset. It is therefore best to avoid places with a haunted history at dusk and after dark particularly. Carrying a torch or some other light to dispel the darkness doesn’t really help because it is child’s play for the supernatural forces at such places to make sure you can’t use it. The best protection is to fight back with your will power, chant mantras or any name in which you have faith. And most important, don’t ignore warnings either by spooks or living beings, as happened with Ram Singh.