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The letter from no one
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2024-10-29 19:42:56It was nearing five thirty and Mr. Sharma was sitting alone in his dingy cabin, staring at the long accounting logs. It was an hour past the usual office hours and he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. He had read and reread the logs, double checking every single entry for its legal sanctity. Everything added up and yet there was this unmistakable entry, like a small splinter in your nails that hurts a lot but doesn’t come out. Every month a huge sum of money was credited from a small time vendor that didn’t match with any purchase, sales or tax entry. He cursed his fate for opening the unsolicited envelope he received anonymously. Curiosity had gotten the better of him and curiosity killed the cat! Now he was stuck with these logs and the cursed knowledge of the unknown source of investment, illegal in all probability. He could burn the papers and forget he had received any such letter and live with the forbidden fruit. His pulse quickened at the very thought of covering up. Why
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Jyotsna and the ghost of the lost traveler The letter from no one
It was nearing five thirty and Mr. Sharma was sitting alone in his dingy cabin, staring at the long accounting logs. It was an hour past the usual office hours and he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. He had read and reread the logs, double checking every single entry for its legal sanctity. Everything added up and yet there was this unmistakable entry, like a small splinter in your nails that hurts a lot but doesn’t come out. Every month a huge sum of money was credited from a small time vendor that didn’t match with any purchase, sales or tax entry. He cursed his fate for opening the unsolicited envelope he received anonymously. Curiosity had gotten the better of him and curiosity killed the cat! Now he was stuck with these logs and the cursed knowledge of the unknown source of investment, illegal in all probability. He could burn the papers and forget he had received any such letter and live with the forbidden fruit. His pulse quickened at the very thought of covering up. Why
Jyotsna and the ghost of the lost traveler The Fist Fight
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Mr. Nandy kept marching forward holding Mahadev’s hand followed by the four huddled together. Jyotsna was suddenly aware of all the sounds around her. The crackling of a twig, the crushing of the leaves under their feet and the insects buzzing around in the distance. But there was something else that took her thoughts astray. A low persistent hum, like the scraping of stones with a stone cutter or a hand drill. Like metal on rock. They walked in silence for a minute. Then Anwar spoke, “When I saw ‘IT’, It felt like a gigantic dragon with huge shiny eyes and sharp jaws.” Mr. Nandy stopped abruptly and the kids rammed into him. He turned around and stared at Anwar. “I am a simple village man and value the lessons taught by our elders enormously. Make it a habit not to trivialize warnings given to you. It has been an unspoken rule in the village to avoid the forest to shorten your travels. And at times when the powers of evil are exalted kids have been known to disappea
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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
Jyotsna and the ghost of the lost traveler The night curfew
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
