A Night In Kasauli
Horror Story
After half an hour of walk along the mud track leading to the top of a small hillock, slant metal sheet roof of the bungalow became visible to Daulat Baig. Thirty years ago he used to cover the same distance in less than ten minutes. Stopping to catch some breath, he pointed the house to his heavily panting wife-Rukhsana Begum. Wiping sweat from her brow with cotton dupatta, she simply asked –
“How much more to go?”
“Will reach there in another five minutes, Begum.”
Soon the damp red brick walls of ‘Monplaisir House’ with wooden doors was right in front of couple. The house was completed in 1897 by Lt Edward Monplaisir, progeny of British mother and French father. He died of malaria during the Burma tenure in 1917. His widow, just thirty two then, decided to return to the quite of Surrey, England.
“You know, I had bought it from Mrs. Emily Monplaisir, widow of Lt Edward Monplaisir in 1917 for Rs.80!” Disappointment had appeared on his face while announcing the names of previous occupants.
“Why have you not brought me here even once after our marriage?”-inquired Rukhsana while reading the chiseled name over the timber door.
“Circumstances were such.” Even she could sense his discomfort in talking about the neglected building.
Fifty five years old Daulat Baig was a well known name in Bareilly. He had amassed enough wealth to last his lifetime, courtesy to his closeness with those in power. Now when partition of India was in sight and communal clashes had become everyday affair, he planned to shift to Sargodha in Muslim majority Jinnah lead Pakistan. He contemplated to selloff the bungalow in Kasauli which he had never visited after the purchase since that ominous night thirty years ago.
Abdul unpacked the four leather suitcases and arranged the belongings in the carved sideboards in the bedroom. He had been the caretaker of the property for past three decades. Before Baig could speak to Abdul regarding the prospects of sale of the house and it’s terrible state of maintenance, he had already left without a word.
Baig opened the decanter, poured himself significant amount of scotch and ventured around the house at leisurely pace. There was complete silence with occasional sound of wind blowing through the trees. The thick, wooded jungle had its edge just behind the last room. Creepers had grown all over the rails of backside verandah. The roof was almost covered with moss and once lush green lawn had vanished without a trace. Daulat Baig watched the mystic building with sadness as he finished his drink.
“I had ordered dinner from the solitary dhaba on the main road, before starting the trek. It will be arriving soon.”-He addressed Begum while pouring his second drink.
“Yes I remember the strange looks the cook gave when you mentioned about this place. Listen, I am getting strange vibes ever since we arrived.”- said Rukhsana. Pretending to ignore what she said and to hide paleness her comment had brought, he again moved out to verandah. Standing at the far end, he hesitantly searched for a small clear patch in the woods. From the corner of the eye he could make out it was still there, right across the congress grass which had consumed the garden. The throat dried up at the sight and in a gulp he emptied the contents of his glass.
“Sahib I’ve brought the dinner.” A worried looking man put down the cloth bag on the floor.
“Thank you. Please bring some groceries along with breakfast tomorrow morning.” Saying that, Baig handed over two eight anna coins to the bearer.
“I am surprised to see the tidiness inside the bungalow. Memsahib did it?” Asked the man.
“Why will she? Abdul is a hard working person. He has maintained interiors relatively well.”
“Abdul? Who?”
“Caretaker of Bungalow.”
“But no one stays here. I’ve never ever heard of anyone named Abdul.” Man shuddered.
“What rubbish? He was just around. He has been living here for the past thirty years.”
“Sahib, what I heard is that long back an English memsahib went missing from this place and two days later, body of a Muslim boy who was taking care of the house was found hanging from the ceiling of the bedroom. The cause of death remained mysterious. His eyes were bulging out and feet had turned backwards. The body did not contained even a drop of blood in it. Since then no one dares to come towards this house. People say it is haunted.”
“Shut up. I am not interested in your non-sense. Why have you come here if you think it is evil?” Curtly, Baig dismissed the man whose face was now full of horror.
“Sahib, I thought you had come to purchase it and will leave before the sunset.” Hurriedly the man turned back and rushed towards the track leading to main road two miles away.
Hearing the commotion Rukhsana came out. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Dinner is here.Take out the utensils and serve it. I’m tired.” Rukhsana could see him startled and again sensed something being hidden from her.
Baig poured a stiff one by the time dinner was served. From the window he observed the shadows of trees going long with the setting of sun. They both had dinner in silence under the light emanating from hurricane lamp. While retiring to bedroom, Rukhsana again expressed her apprehension about the place giving her depressive feeling. She wanted to tell him about the twin shadows of Abdul which she observed while coming and his conspicuous absence. But Baig was pre-occupied in his own thoughts. The moment he laid down, events of that fateful night became vividly clear.
Emily Monplaisir was looking stunning when she signed the transfer papers of the property. Baig had requested her to stay put for the night and move out next day so as to gather final memories of her departed husband. Once all the visitors left, his lecherous eyes got fixed on her full bosom and plunging neckline. Grabbing her resisting body and taking her to bedroom was not easy. Once on bed, he had a gaze of her shapely legs before forcing himself into her. Emily was raped and strangulated on the same bed on which he was resting with his wife. He and Abdul had worked throughout the night to make a small clearing in the woods and thereafter buried Emily under the Deodar tree. He glanced at her face one last time before throwing her in the pit. She was still looking fresh.
Eerie silence of the night was broken by a sudden cry of wolf. Rukhsana woke up nervously and scanned around. In the moonlight emerging from window she saw a figure behind the door curtain. The presence of unknown made her numb. Two bright eyes were looking directly at her. Mustering last ounce of courage, her attempt to shout only produced a brief moan. “There is someone in the room.” Only words Rukhsana could manage to say. She tried to prod and wake up her husband. Chill went down her spine when she found him missing from the bed.
To ally his fears risen after listening to the man from the town, Baig grabbed the lamp, stepped down the verandah and slowly headed towards the small clear patch in the jungle. Half way through the congress grass, he heard a shriek from the bungalow. He decided to first check the clearing he had made thirty years ago before moving back. As he approached the Deodar tree, stillness of the night became absolute. On a small mound under the tree he saw the silhouette of a lady. She was sitting all by herself with back towards him. Baig froze in his frame. As her head turned towards him, the light from lantern went out with the flicker of wick.
Next morning, the man from the town discovered two corpses. One was lying in the bedroom with eyes bulging out and other hanging upside down from Deodar tree. A sharp wooden spike had pierced the head from behind and came out from the right eye. The mound beneath was covered in a pool of blood. Pitch dark shadow of a lady was lurking nearby.
