Pritha Ghosh of Class 5, Epic Public School, narrates a thrilling tale of a dark, rainy winter night, an eerie Rajbari, and a haunting encounter with a ghostly Kathak dancer in her ghungroos. A spine-chilling adventure awaits!
It was one of the darkest nights, you know what we call omaborsha in Bengali when I was returning from my classical dance classes. The usual walk of just 20 minutes to my home seemed endless. This perhaps was due to the darkness or was it because of the fact that I was quite hungry is not known to me. I checked my watch, it was 9 o’clock already. I started walking but then I realised I had left my ghungroos back at the center.
But then as I strode through the lanes it started to drizzle adding to my irritation and I stood there, utterly baffled. Winters and rains? It is like serving curry with ice cream, a combination that makes no sense at all. And then my sense of humour transformed into anxiety when the droplets changed to torrents. I reached for my bag in search of an umbrella, and for obvious reasons, it was not there. I mean who carries an umbrella in winter?
Finding no other options I decided to take the shorter road to avoid the rain as much as possible. That perhaps was not a very good idea, for you see the shorter route passes through the infamous Rajbari of Raja Robinarayan Singha. Why infamous? Well, people say it is haunted by the ghost of a woman who was buried alive in the courtyard by the Raja about 300 years back. Of course, I never believed in such tales, but on that day meeting the ghost was a probability even I could not avoid worrying due to the darkness and cold winter rains.
I started to walk fast, however, the raindrops felt like a thousand needles poking my skin forcing me to take shelter somewhere. I looked around and saw that I was in front of the Rajbari. There I stood where I had to choose between facing the rains that could cause an immediate death and the presence of a 300-year-old ghost who might kill me eventually. I chose the latter and moved inside the premises of the Rajbari.
Walking down the courtyard I reached the extra-large veranda and my extra-large heart was reduced to extra small as I found the main door was opening. But then logic found its way and I realised that it was the wind which was controlling the door’s movement.
I decided to sneak inside. It was darker than I expected so I took out my phone and turned on the torch. I looked around the bungalow with the newly found illumination. On my left was a closed door and on my right was a staircase. I decided to go up.
The landing led to an open door. I entered. To my surprise I saw a wooden wardrobe, looked quite charming, I must say. I was curious and opened the doors, there was a box inside. My curiosity was at its peak and I decided to open the box. What I saw surprised me even further. There was a pair of ghungroos with a hundred pallets each.
As a classical Kathak dancer, I immediately recognised it but then I wondered why they were there. My thoughts broke when I got a strange feeling that someone was walking behind me. I turned around and found no one. I laughed at my imagination but then again a distinct sound of ghungroos came to my ears, and trust me that was no imagination.
Wasting no time I decided to take the pair in the box and leave the place. But as I started to walk out, I saw a shadow, it was of a girl wearing a dress like a Kathak dancer. She was standing right behind me. But wait she started to walk towards me, I grabbed the ghungroos and started running towards the gate, but the moment I reached the gates it closed.
THE BEGINNING….
Pritha Ghosh
Class 5