Something that scares me sometimes.

Paranormal – one of my favoriteacan’t say completely that I believe in it nor I can say that I don’t believe but it amuses me. I mean the topic.

Well leaving behind all the debate of I believe or I don’t, let me tell you a story. A story which occured years ago in my ancestral home.

It goes like this, one of the men working at our mansion, had always trouble sleeping in his quarter. As I mentioned it was ancestral so was centuries old. And being so, it had it’s own share of spooky stories. But,now don’t let me embrangle you from the main story. Well,I think I should not call it a story but true incident. So, this guy, who worked for my grandfather was given a quarter in the outer portion of the mansion. There were others also in his neighbouring quarters but they never said a thing about some sort of disturbances.

This guy alone had a problem, so we all thought either he is imagining things or hallucinating under the influence of cheap alcohol. But every morning he used to wake up with sores on his face and shoulders. In the evenings when he used to come up with cowmilk for the household, we used to surround him to tell us the story of his ‘brave’ encounters. May be from there my interest in paranormal and horror genre started.

Well, coming back to my experience, yes my experience as now I can own the incident bravely. One day he was supposed to go to his village and return by the night. That evening another house help who was assisting him, came to deliver milk and gave the keys to his quarter, saying sorry as he couldnot stay in there. First we thought this guy is influenced by the stories but then he showed a slap mark on his left cheek, which he had covered from a cloth, used to tie on head to save from heat.

Next day, we children planned to go and see in the quarter, what the mystery was? So, without telling elders and the nannies and specially the governess, we sneaked out. Six of us, a whole bunch of screaming and shouting children, full of excitement, reached the outer garden and then crossed the garage areas and there was the outer line of the house helps’ quarters.

The keys were with the eldest cousin. At time he used to be very weak hearted. And I was the bravest one. All the others in the group encouraged me to take the keys and open the door. And being a good loving elder cousin to rest of them, I did what they wanted me to. We entered in and to my surprise, the bulb which one of us switched on, went off with a blast. And imagine who was the first to escape? No, it was not my eldest cousin, but me! Yes me. Because I have acoustic startle reflex. May be some of you might be laughing at me or questioning me over the claim of being bravest of the bunch, but believe me I know what the hell I deal with when I say ASR. Enough of my side story, I will tell you what happened next.

The moment I jumped out of the room, everyone followed the suit. I gathered my wit and entered again followed by rest. We stayed in there for about half an hour but nothing happened. Apart from one of my younger cousin, who actually was scared, felt cold and heard something. Looking at his condition we left the room and locked it again. Kept the keys back in place and didn’t utter a word about our expedition.

The guy returned in the evening instead of previous night. And we were eager to see if he notices something in room. He stayed the whole time out of it and after dinner retired to his room. We were watching him from the main gate to the main mansion.

Next day it was sunday, yet we woke up soon and gathered in the common verandah. Before elders could question us, we all ran from there towards the quarters and what we saw was unbelievable. The guy with his bed and bedding, was lying outside with the bed atop him. Rest of the men and their families had come out and surrounded him. He woke up and took all his belongings back in the room, came out shutting the door behind him. We asked him what had happened to which he shrugged his shoulders and told us that it was nothing new as every night someone threw him off his bed, only this time it’s out of the room with his bed. Then he went back to his work and we came back inside.

We didn’t say anything about our expedition and never spoke about this experience with anyone. Today, decades have passed but this is the second time I am mentioning this incident. Prior to this time I mentioned it to my hubby some two years ago, I think.

For now this is all. May be in next post I will share some other such experiences from my home and other places, that too if you like. Thank you for reading till end and if you didn’t then also for bearing with me.

Highway No. 79 Dudu village

National highway number-79. Night 0800pm. ..pitch dark…winters of November 1991. Double lane road with very scanty traffic. Road side tea stalls too were very few in this Stretch. No honking of horns, not a single sound of engines. Quiet was so engrossing that the sound of three cars coming in a convoy was merely a humming.

Three Ambassador cars in a row, one behind the other, in first car were sting the officials of state minister for tourism, second car had minister himself, DIG and District Magistrate with the driver. The third car had DM’s family with their driver. They passed a mile stone that read 80kms. The men in the second car were so involved in talking that they did not notice the passing of the mile stone the second time, the same mile stone which read 80kms.

After 1 hour of crossing the 80kms. mile stone for the first time, the car with DM’s family stopped as they could not see the other two cars. It was pitch dark on the road without the pole lights in those times. The wife of DM got the gun man to wireless the message to the gunman in the minister’s car ro know their whereabouts. The gunman from the other car asked them to wait where they were till they come.

After another 15 minutes the other cars appeared. DM got down of minister’s car and sat with his family and waved good bye to others. Though they asked him to stay with them but he didn’t listen and took their leave. By half past 1 they reached their home.

Next day when they called the DIG to ask did they reach safely, the story he told was spooky. The moment DM changed the car and drove off, the horrifying incident started. After  dropping him when they started, they crossed the milestone for the third time and this was noticed by the driver and he told this to others. First none believed him then 15 minutes later when the same mile stone again came everyone was dumbstruck. The driver then turned the car and started again but within 5 minutes the car skid and faced towards the way they were coming from. The drivers gain turned the cars but again the same thing happened.

It was late in the night when they finally managed to pass the stretch where this all was happening. Thus got late to reach their respective homes.

Later it was known that it was the same patch where many such weird incidents occur and is said to be haunted. It’s hardly 15 minute zone but is very accident prone area. It’s a curve on the road. Many other incidents came into light then. One doctor was returning to his home from the city where he was posted. It was evening 0500pm when he came to the same stretch of NH-79, when he saw a brick wall in middle of the road and tried to avoid the collision but his bike skid and fell down. With the bike he was drawn for few mts. He got bad bruises on hands, fractured leg. In some incidents the drivers have felt the presence of some Un visible person sitting right aside them and urging them to crash the vehicle. Some have reported of seeing a lady with a child asking for lift and then getting vanished into the thin air. One such incident mentions a lady covered with blood holding a little child asked for lift and sat in the back seat of the car and then guided them out of the village too but when the three friends who were in the car looked for the lady, saw she vanished into thin air. The friends tried to forget the incident as a nightmare but that haunts them till date. Those 15 minutes of horror are unforgettable for anyone who has faced this.

The story behind all this goes like this….time was when child marriages prevailed in Rajasthan. In the village named Dudu, near Ajmer, in a family a infant baby girl of 5 days was to be married off to a toddler of 3 years. But the mother of the girl was against this marriage. So to save her child she ran away from home taking the baby with her. On the road she met with an accident and both mother and child died instantly. It is said all this haunting and accidents on this road started since then.

The haunting still continues and may be first of its kind where a road stretch is haunted.


 

Inspired by a Theme on TPIB

I am a die hard fan of horror and spooky stories. But what if they are for real…means not mere stories but something people believe in…though I won’t believe in them nor would ask anyone to do so but for satisfying my thirst of mystery, fear and all at once…I would love to read them and feel the hair rising and tickling at the back of neck experience.

If they are folklore or legends from the past it is more thrilling, as I love history. It gives a dash of romance with the thrill, sometimes. This week at TPIB we have theme of writing about a legend…and I got the chance to indulge in my favourite genre. That gave me a new topic to write about on my blog, apart from my depressed mind’s ramblings, i.e. about horror or haunted legends wrapped in mysteries.

There are so many of them around us, so I thought to first start with my homeland, then will slowly move towards others. Hope it will entertain you as much as it’s thrilling me to write.

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A dutiful ghost of Brijrajbhawan, Kota.

Today I choose a city where I have spent 2 years of my childhood, the city of River Chambal, Kota Doria sarees, Masala Limca, Palaces and gardens, KOTA city from Hadoti region of Rajasthan.

The one I choose to narrate today is about a haunted palace or shall I say a haunted hotel? Well I will call it a heritage hotel run by the royal family of Kota!

The story takes place in the colonial India. Yes the so called ghost in this lore is a British Major.

The palace where our story begins is called “Brijrajbhawan” a residential palace of former royal family of Kota, having a resident ghost of Major Charles Burton, who was then British resident to Kota and was killed while serving by the sepoys of 1857 freedom war.

Image courtesy : google

Our story begins when Major Charles Burton of 40th Bengal Native Infantry  was posted to Kota as Resident and Brijrajbhawan Palace was British Residency and now home to Major and his family for 13 years.  In May 1857, at the outbreak of the mutiny, Major Burton was summoned by the British General commanding the nearby Neemuch cantonment for the protection of Neemuch, a town in Madhya Pradesh. Burton was accompanied to Neemuch by his family. On the request of Kota ‘s king Major along with his two sons returned to Kota on December 13, 1857. After two days Major Burton saw a large party approaching the Residency. He assumed that these troops of the Maharaja had come to pay a friendly visit. But soon the mutinied  soldiers surrounded and entered the palace. All the servents of the Residency abandoned the Residency,leaving The Burtons alone with few arms that they were able to snatch. They ran to the upper storey and took refuge in a small room and waited there for the help to arrive while the loot was going on in the lower portion. But after 5 hours of firing The Burtons surrendered and kneeling down said their prayers. In March 1858, Kota was again annexed by British government and the bodies of the Burtons were disinterred and buried in the Kota cemetery with full military honours.

Image courtesy:google

After independence the palace became private property of the royal family of Kota, to which they later converted into a heritage hotel after renovating. Today, it is not only a heritage hotel but also a haunted destination in India where the ghost of Major Burton prevails. It is said that Charles Burton’s ghost still haunts the old building and susceptible guests have complained of distinctly “discomforting and oppressive feelings”. Though the staff is reluctant to the complaints yet acknowledges an English voice being heard often by the drowsy watchmen that says, “Don’t sleep, no smoking” followed by a sharp slap if they are not performing their duty properly. Seems that the ghost of Burton still patrols the mansion!

Image courtesy : google

Image courtesy : google