It was a cold dark winter night , Raju had been paddling his Avon cycle furiously on the mud path that led to his village. Although the weather was chilly , he was sweating partially because of the exercise and partially because of fear. The mud path that led to the village ,only a couple of nights before, had claimed its twenty first victim. The man had died under mysterious circumstances, his body found in a shocked state. His eyes were open with fear and it was rumored that this path was haunted.
Raju who was twenty years of age ,was a strong man, and did not believe in ghosts. He used to take the same path every day , morning and evening to go to the city where he delivered milk and later worked at a dairy on monthly wages. He was married ,when he was sixteen and the village priest had predicted , that he may face mortal danger at the age of twenty. Raju's mother who was a pious lady had paid the pundit 200 Rs to perform a puja for Raju's safety.
With time ,every body forgot ,what the soothsayer had said except for his wife. Every day she would pray for his safety, as his journey to the city was fraught with danger. First it was the highway with trucks carelessly meandering , and then it was the wild animals who often found their way in to the village ,from the adjoining wild life sanctuary. Now it was the path. Ever since mysterious deaths had started to occur , people had been very afraid and even the bada sahib , who had visited the village with the police had seemed helpless.
A police PCR was placed near the entrance of the path way, but in time ,this had been removed after the truck drivers complaint of police harassment on the highway. The press seemed to come often to the village but it was more so to question the family of the victim. “How do you feel that your father is no more.”was a question that most of the houses in the village had answered in the last one year.
Now the recurrence of the event had become so often , that media didn't seem to care anymore. What was once a front page news had become a page seven news item. It would generally read “ Another victim found in similar conditions on the chaura gaon mud path. The name of the victim is XYZ who is survived by his wife , son or daughter. The police are investigating.”
Raju felt goosebumps. The village was still a few kilometers away ,and it being a moonless night , it was becoming impossible to ride fast and keep on track. One wrong turn could lead him in to the wild life sanctuary and it would be impossible for him to find a way from there. He shivered as a drop of cold sweat ran down his spine. The villagers had established a village Patrol but they kept to the entry of the path , and their job was to stop anybody ,from venturing on to the path at night, rather than protect people on the path. At seven everybody would close shutters and run back home only to lock themselves.
People have a short memory and once no incident occurred for a short duration , they would return to the path, inevitably to find someone dead. The police would come and do the panchnama. A few investigative journalist would come and question the laxity of the police. At first , it was said there was a man eater in the vicinity, but later, when no bodies were found half eaten, the possibility was ruled out. There were quite a few theories of serial killers, ghosts and some other animal. No one was sure and the panchayat had decided , it was best to stay indoors , till it was found out who was behind the murders .
Raju was now approaching the spot where all the bodies had been found . It was a banyan tree that had been around for a couple of centuries at least. With roots hanging like snakes in the entire area , the place would look eerie even during the day. There was a grave under the tree. Although it read of a English soldier who had died of cholera in 1903 , rumor was that he was beheaded by the village ancestors when he had fallen in love with a village girl. They had tried to elope but were caught. His head was cut and hung on the banyan tree, while the girl was tied to the trunk. She had died of hunger and thirst while looking at the severed head of her british lover. The English government had however caught all the culprits and had given them a similar fate . They all were hung from the same banyan tree .The girl and her lover were buried under the tree and although the grave stone of the soldier had survived , Some body had stolen that of the girl that a smaller in size, to use as a peg to tie the cows. Raju knew the story and he knew who had stolen it . After all it was him. He had his eyes on the peg for a long time and one day he had managed to get the marble out. It had taken him a day to file of all the writing, and when his wife had asked him where he had got it from, he had coolly told her to mind her own business. It was a strange coincidence that all the murders had started to occur , the day after he had dislodged the stone.
People had been found dead in the same spot and nobody had been able to trace the cause of death. Every one had strange markings on there necks with banyan skin . Some conspiracy theorist said that it was the tree that would come alive every moonless night . Others said it was the ghost of the girl who had risen from the dead after her grave stone was stolen. She had come back to avenge the death of her lover. A strange coincidence was that all the men had been killed in a similar manner and in the same spot on a moonless night. They also had a similar height. Around six feet. Raju stood at six one.
Raju reached the spot and suddenly felt something around his neck . He was pulled off his bicycle and fell to ground . His eyes were wide open , his neck had snapped .He was dead. In the morning a passer by found his body lay spread eagled on the ground. He had rushed to the village to tell every one of Raju's demise.
A few days had passed since Raju has died. The police had come and gone. The reporters once again had flocked the village. The village pundit had performed a puja for his souls release. It was time for him to go back to the banyan tree to perform his puja. He reached the spot , and saw the root hanging once again in front of the prayer stone. He grumbled and lifted the roots to tie them to the branch that extended over the mud path. It was high enough for any passer by ,not to get entangled, and hurt himself. The trap was set. He had wanted to cut the troubling growth but couldn't as his religion didn't allow.
He sat down to pray. A passer by on the cycle ducked his head as he approached the loop. “ Pundit ji I hope the last of the victims has been claimed. I found out in the morning ,it was Raju ,who had dislodged the grave stone and now he has faced the consequences.” Pundit ji smiled and said I hope so as he looked at Rs. Five hundred that he had got to perform the puja. All he had to wait for was another moonless night.
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