Haughty Scoot

It wouldn't be too late in the night for bachelors like us, a couple of who were forced ones with their families living in Bengal, enjoy a good session of gossips in Bangla, the mother tongue! Amongst the handful few, a few enthusiastic Bengalis would pool in after the day's work in the hills of West Sikkim. A few was the count of Bengalis in that place and fewer the ones who would dare to participate in a jamming adda session. I used to stay in Tikjuk, a place between Gyalshing (Gayzing) and Pelling where government quarters are located and would come down to join them occasionally.

The adda would usually unfold at the manager's residence of a bank in Gyalshing, sometimes to be joined by the branch manager of another bank who was posted in Pelling. There were no core banking solutions and the bankers used to break their necks with heavy lenses on the bridge of their noses poring over big fat registers called ledgers by different names. Information technology was a sought after in those days but seeing me leave office early really used to irk them. Of all the queries were, what I used to do in office, why was it required at all! They would arrive at a conclusion that the government was wasting its resources on the likes of us. I never fought back as the branch managers were quite old and I knew well what the intentions of the government were. Focus was that mattered the most.

It would be usually after 11 in the night and the entire township would be asleep when I would start for my residence after such an adda session on my scooter Oirabat as I'd affectionately named it. The scooter was a Bajaj Super white in colour with orange turn indicators. I used to take great care of my Oirabat and it never failed me anywhere. Many would advise me not to take the short-cut that reduced the distance by a third. The road was steep and sometimes slimy and slippery during incessant downpours. More the so, there was a khola where ghost sightings were frequent. I too peevishly would admit with élan - "Let's meet him or her and say a big hello!". Fear was a constant companion as it wasn't known when the bhoot, as it is called locally and the same in Bangla, would come out to say Hello or hi!

The eerie surroundings compounded nervousness and the chill in the wind would run it down the spine.The entire stretch would be empty by the time I travelled after an adda. Dense fog would engulf the surroundings reducing visibility to near zero. It would be incorrect tosay that I was unfazed by the stories of unnatural sightings that did the rounds locally.

An avid reader of stories in my childhood, the ghostly and unnatural phenomenon laced ones would crisscross my mind. The road was barely 8 feet wide and four wheeled vehicles had difficulty crossing each other. There wasn't any scope of overtaking in any way. On one side was the daunting hill and a deep ravine on the other. The khola was more near to the main road uphill. Even during the day, this tiny waterfall was caved in dark due to heavy overgrowth of vines and ferns apart from shrubs that usually grew. The flow of water was continuous but meagre that didn't require any underground drainage. This water would spill on the road and made way though the concrete slabs down to the ravine. Every time I'd pass by it, whether it being day or night, or even midnight sometimes, would give me the creeps.

It was a fateful night that was destined to be eventful! This was the feeling each and every time I took that route uphill in the dead of the night. I neither saw nor sensed anything uncanny or suspicious every time I passed by that khola. Perhaps it was evading me would bring in a sense of respite for me. But then, it was near the lone standing telecom tower that I used to feel a movement. A mild sway on a two wheeler when someone moves or sits behind. I used to pass this off as skidding of tyre on gravel or uneven road surface and, a similar mild jerk as I'd take right turn towards my quarter as if the pillion got off. I decided not to discuss this lest being joked and ridiculed.

One such night, as I was nearing that khola, I felt that the scooter was getting abnormally slowed down and would need to shift to lower gears. I did. Then too, it was getting difficult moving forward even in the 1st gear. Felt like as if someone was pulling from behind and that, it was constantly gaining on me. I stopped. Got down and, parked the scooter with its lights and ignition switched on. Realising what had befallen me, I thank God today that I did not lose my nerves. Started chanting names of all the Gods and Goddesses that I could remember in that situation. Mind you, the ignition was ON and it wasn't any mechanical failure at all! Nor was that fuel was running low.

The police station or thana was barely 60 meters away and, could see the lights glowing that injected fresh lease of courage within, from the spot of rendezvous. Just below it was the main road that connects Gyalshing to Pelling. My plan was to reach the main road somehow and get help from the thana. With my right hand on the accelerator and the left on the gear arm, pushed with all force till it reached the main road to win the great tussle with the unknown. All the time, I never turned to look back; as was the tell-tale convention while tackling bhoots!

Upon reaching the main road, the scooter became somewhat lighter. Let's say the bhoot was slowly losing its grip saluting my determination to succeed in getting away from its clutches. The speed was sufficient to ride at 2nd gear and I was on the driver's seat. It was exactly at the bifurcation of the road to my quarter and Pelling that the scooter was freed from the vice like grip of the bhoot. Parked my Oirabot, locked it and hurriedly opened the door with my heart thumping at an inexplicable rate. Got a matchbox and alighted a stick to touch the flame it as that would scare all ghosts away. That night was long long one as it would never end. Didn't know when I fell asleep only to be woken up by neighbourly rooster's calls.

My Oirabat did not fail me!

adda (Bangla)	a place where people gather for conversation.
Oirabat	a mythological white elephant who carries the Hindu god Indra
khola (Nepali)	a small waterfall or stream
bhoot	ghost
thana	Police Station