A fire in their house kills an old lady, presumed to be Parishi’s grandmother. But soon, she discovers her grandma is alive. The crime, plotted by Kitartha Sinha, ends with his arrest. What happens next? Find out in Episode Four.
In the earlier episodes of this series, I shared with you how one day a fire in the house left us devastated. Finding a human body in the wreck, we got the impression that my grandmother had lost her life in the incident. But then, within a few days, strange incidents began in our house that made us believe that Grandma’s spirit had returned.
Later, one day, as I was playing with my friends, I discovered tha t my grandmother was still alive and was living in a nearby village. I found her house and brought her back to ours, and we were happy again.
Within a few days, we learnt that this entire plot had been planned by a man named Kitartha Sinha, who wanted to destroy our family. Finally, with the help of Aryan Dutta, the police officer, Kitartha was arrested. We felt relieved, but Kitartha was not alone in this game. He had accomplices who could not be traced and were still at large.
And Now…
Five days had passed since Kitartha was arrested. These days had been peaceful and nothing strange had occurred, though the memories of the horrific moments kept me cautious.
It was a bright, sunny morning that day. My mother had cooked my favourite fish curry. The moment I smelt it, my appetite doubled. I quickly went for a shower, faster than usual. As I prepared to take my bath, I heard a strange noise from the backyard. I thought of calling my mother, but then I felt that if someone was making another attempt on us, the noise and the delay might allow them to escape.
I decided to check it myself.
The moment I stepped out, I found a group of three men standing right in front of me. Before I could react and reach for my mother or someone else, one of them overpowered me and covered my nose and mouth with a handkerchief, while the others hurried to tie my hands and feet. I was helpless and gradually lost consciousness while thinking about my dear family.
Meanwhile, my mother was happily preparing the dining table. She called me for lunch. My father came in by that time and asked, “What happened, Mishka? Is the lunch ready?”
My mother called me again, but I did not respond. She grew concerned and searched for me everywhere in the house. Finding me nowhere, she started crying and said, “The lunch is ready, but the one I made it for is nowhere in the house!”
Both of them, greatly worried, started looking for me everywhere. They searched the houses of my friends, the fields I played in, even in Jhapsa, but they didn’t find me—for obvious reasons.
Meanwhile, I slowly regained consciousness. I looked around; it was a dirty room, and I was tied to a wooden chair. Just then, a man came in.
“Here! Your food,” he said, as he placed the food on the ground. He untied my hands. I saw I was served an almost rotten onion and a roti as crisp as a wafer. As he left, he locked the door from outside. I longed for the fish curry, certain that I couldn’t eat what I had been given.
I untied myself and started looking for an outlet through which I could escape. There was no chance of leaving through the door as it was locked.
Looking around, a nearly broken window caught my attention. I quickly removed the cardboards lying on the floor and reached the window. Luckily, I found a way to break it. I grabbed the plate of food, set aside the rotten onion and crisp roti, and began striking the window repeatedly with the plate.
I realised that the noise was getting louder, and it might alarm my kidnappers. I went back to the door and found that the lock was broken. I quickly dragged the chair and wedged it against the door so that no one could enter.
But my gut feeling was right—the kidnappers had heard the sound and were approaching. They tried to open the door. My fragile chair held for as long as it could, but soon the men managed to break it. Fortunately, the window shattered, and I escaped from the horrific room. It was raining heavily outside. I found refuge in the shed of a house.
But little did I know that I had only escaped the room, not those dirty hands. A man appeared from nowhere and forced me to walk at gunpoint. Soon we reached the river. I stood there with no hope in my heart. He came closer and pushed me into the river, which was in full spate. I slowly closed my eyes as tears rolled down.
But that was not the end. God had other plans. When I woke up, I found myself in a big room, lying in a bed. Soon, a Brahmin came to check on me. He was shocked and happy to see me conscious. He pulled up a stool that was under the bed and sat beside me.
“Thank God you are fine. We found you near Jaladhara river. We had very little hope, but God answered our prayers. You were unconscious, completely drenched. Thanks to the Almighty for saving this little soul. You can go change and then come to the temple.”
I followed his advice. I wore a simple blue saree that had been provided for me. I went to the temple, where the morning Aarti was being performed.
A woman approached me, “Have some breakfast and come to the ground for a session.” I saw some fruits, roti, dal, and pickle on the plate. I was quite hungry, so I quickly finished the food and went to the ground as advised.
The session began. I slowly felt I was losing everyone. And indeed, I was lost. The Brahmin who was hosting came near me.
“Your face is new to me. Kindly tell me your name.”
“I’m Parishi Bannerjee.”
“Welcome, dear. We all hope you will get along with these things.”
“I will try to manage,” I said with a warm smile.
Later that afternoon, another plate of delicious food was served before me. It had a bowl of aamras with two fluffy puris. I went insane and devoured it immediately.
After lunch, I sat idle, missing my family, my friends—especially my grandma. I knew I had to do something to reach home. But I didn’t know how.
My room was big and had quite a few cupboards. I wanted to find out what they contained. I closed the door and started opening them. The drawer near my bed had two documents. I took them out, sat on my bed, and began reading.
As I turned a few pages, I found a contract. I pulled it from the bundle and started reading. It was a contract of two years. I grew curious, but just as I was about to read further, someone knocked on the door and said, “Hey! You are not supposed to close the door. Open it! Open it!”
“I was actually changing,” I lied.
“Then don’t lock it.”
“But why?”
“Just do as I say,” he shouted.
“Okay.”
I quickly put the documents back and opened the door.
I decided to explore my new abode. I was staying on the second floor. It had only three rooms—one was mine, another belonged to a girl named Garima.
I went near her door and noticed the lock was broken. I tried to open it, but it was tightly secured. Just then, Garima came running and grabbed my hand.
“Hey! Leave me!”
“Do you even know the consequences if someone sees you here?”
“No.”
“Once a boy tried to open that door, but unfortunately someone saw him. That night he was taken away, and since then we have never seen him again. Do you want to die or something?”
“That’s suspicious.”
“Are you a detective?”
“Of course not.”
“Then don’t do all this.”
She was called by one of the Brahmins downstairs and left.
I was even more puzzled now.
Later that night, I closed the door again and tried to sleep, but the Brahmin returned. Unwillingly, I had to leave the door open.
At midnight, I heard someone opening the drawer and checking the storage in my room and everywhere else. Then they silently went away. As soon as they left, I sat up and checked the drawer. Yes—the documents were gone.
I was sure the intruders had taken them. I had no choice but to sleep, though I resolved to do something the next day.
When I woke up, it was around 7 in the morning. I had a cold shower and returned to my room.
While detangling my hair, I heard someone saying, “Take her there by 10 a.m. You know, if you can’t, then the boss will kill us.”
I was confused for a moment, but then I realised—it could be me.
I waited a minute and then closed the door. I didn’t go downstairs for food or the session.
Of course, someone came looking for me. But I didn’t want to go anywhere, because it was already past 10 a.m. I didn’t want to get lost again.
I didn’t even know anything about this place, so what would I do if transferred somewhere else?
As I was lost in these thoughts, a Brahmin broke into my room with a lady. The woman had a knife in her hand. I realised it was too late, and today might be the last day I saw the sun.
Before I could react, a sharp pain hit me in the back, and I went senseless.
I could only see the blurry image of two people standing next to me with bloody hands.
As I closed my eyes, I felt myself being taken to a dark room. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and that was when I saw the number 63 on the wall— the wall next to the locked room.
TO BE CONTINUED…..
To read Part 3 click HERE.
To read Part 2 click HERE
To read Part 1 click HERE
