The Night Demons of Mukhtarpur

--Ziauddin Choudhury

My mother’s maternal cousin Harun Mama (Uncle Harun) grew up under abundant indulgence of our
grandmother since his mother had died in his infancy. Our grandmother had no son, and therefore,
Harun Mama filled that role taking full liberty of his only aunt’s doting love and affection. The affection
was to such an extent that his neglect of studies and school was also viewed with great compassion by
his doting relative. His knowledge of being heir apparent to the family’s real estate as he grew up also
partly led him to a carefree and fun loving life.

Two major pastimes of Harun Mama were fishing and listening to music. For fishing he would go angling
to neighboring village ponds equipped with fishing gear where he would spend hours, mostly returning
with a basketful of small fish late in the afternoon. For music he relied on an old gramophone that he
frequently borrowed from a neighbor (he was forbidden to own one by his eccentric father). But once or
twice a month he would venture out for live music offered by traveling Jatra parties (village operas) in
distant villages, sometimes requiring a whole day’s journey on foot. In all of these pastimes his constant
companion was Sanu—a young member of the family that served our grandmother’s clan for
generations. The two were inseparable. If grandmother wanted to know the whereabouts of Harun
Mama, all she needed to do was look for Sanu.

While our grandmother’s indulgence of Harun Mama was enormous, she would, however, draw a line
between his taking French leave from school for fishing in the ponds, and his forays into other villages
for watching Jatras. She preferred that he remain in the vicinity either listening to music on the
gramophone or go see a Jatra if it were nearby. Therefore, Harun Mama would take refuge to various
subterfuges to indulge his passion for Jatras with Sanu as an accomplice. Many times he would
announce to grandmother his intention to spend the night in his own grandmother’s village, which was a
day’s walk, but instead go to a Jatra. He would come back late next day with his eyes red from all night
watching, and sleep it off next day. Sometimes grandmother would catch him and scold him, but Harun
Mama got away by swearing never to repeat the offense. But one day Harun Mama’s shenanigan would
come to haunt him in a way that he would swear off his love for Jatra once and for all.

It happened one winter when we all had descended on Usmanpur on our annual pilgrimage to Nanabari.
During these visits, which lasted a month or so, I would often seek company of Harun Mama and Sanu.
Both carefree birds would indulge me as a harmless companion, and would take me to their fishing or
bird hunting expeditions (with sling-shots). One morning when I was looking for them I was told by the
employees in the household that Harun Mama had gone to Muktharpur—a village several miles away to
visit his maternal uncles, and had not returned. Sanu had also left with him. I waited the whole day for
them to return, but they did not.

In the evening my grandmother got anxious and wanted to send a servant to Mukhtarpur to enquire
about the missing lot. As it was very late in the evening others advised her to wait one more night.
There were strong reasons for avoiding night travels to Mukhtarpur that time. The road to Mukhtarpur
cut through a mile of deep bamboo forests, which were commonly believed to be the hunting ground of
spirits. It was rumored that these spirits descended on unsuspecting travelers in a way that the travelers
did not realize until very late. The spirits attached themselves to the brains of the unsuspecting
travelers, and made them behave in strange fashions when they arrived home.

Next morning grandmother’s emissary went to Mukhtarpur to find out the whereabouts of Harun Mama
and Sanu. He returned with the disturbing information that neither Harun Mama nor Sanu had set foot
in that village, not to speak of visiting his relatives there. This alarming information upset grandmother
to no end. She sent out people to all other possible places for their information, with no success. Finally
hearing from someone that there was a Jatra being held in Burunga Bazar—some five miles away from
Usmanpur—she sent a relative to find out if the truant duo was hanging out there.

The relative returned with only half information. One shopkeeper who knew Harun Mama said that he
had seen Harun Mama and Sanu in the Jatra two nights before, but they had left well before dawn for
Usmanpur. It was bewilderment all around for all of us; if the two had left Burunga Bazar two nights
before, why they did not come home. Where would they be? Fear replaced worry.

Panic stricken, and almost sick from worry, my grandmother decided to send someone to Balaganj
Police Station, which was almost ten miles away, to seek police help in search of the two. It was at this
moment that a person from a neighboring village, Tahirpur, came running saying that he had discovered
both Harun Mama and Sanu lying under a banyan tree. Tahirpur was close by, so the entire company
led by grandmother and myself in tow, ran to the spot following the informant.

What a sight it was! I still remember vividly Harun Mama and Sanu lying under the huge Banyan Tree
frothing at the mouth. When we approached them it was clear that they were not really asleep, but
unconscious; and their bodies were moving in convulsion. Grandmother asked someone to fetch some
water, and immediately two buckets of water were brought from a neighboring home. Both Harun
Mama and Sanu were doused with water from the buckets, which seemed to work as they opened their
eyes. Grandmother held Harun Mama’s head with both hands and asked if he could hear her. Harun
Mama just nodded his head. Grandmother asked some able bodied young people there to carry both of
them home.

At home, Harun Mama was laid in bed in his room, and Sanu in his grandmother’s cottage, where they
would sleep continuously for next twenty four hours. We would not get any answers to this strange
incident and the missing two days from any of the victims until later.
Two days later, after being sustained by a lot of milk, honey, and kaviraji medicines, Harun Mama gave
his hair raising account of the night he left Jatra for home.

Harun Mama and Sanu left Burunga Bazar before the end of the Jatra so as to reach Usmanpur by dawn
and slip into their respective rooms without anyone noticing, particularly grandmother. Muktharpur fell
on the way, but since they did not wish to surprise any relative there at dead of night, they decided to
brave through the dreaded bamboo forest despite its evil reputation. As they entered the legendary
woods, they heard first a faint music. The music became clearer when they continued to walk, and they
recognized it to be similar to the chorus in the Jatra that they had just heard. They wondered how on
earth the chorus of the Jatra could be in the woods. Was there another Jatra nearby? The music
became louder and louder but they did not any see physical presence of any band, nor was there any
light. They started to wonder if by mistake they were headed back to the Jatra, and the music was
coming from there. As ill luck would have it, there was a fork in the road that they had just crossed.
Thinking that they perhaps had taken the wrong road, they went back to the fork, with the music
continuing. They took the other road this time hoping this was the right one. Again the same music,
and it became louder and louder, with no band in sight!!

Harun Mama and Sanu continued to walk, but the road did not seem to end, neither the music. They felt
they were walking in a circle. It was at this point that both heard human voices asking them to follow the
music. “Come, follow us” the voices said. They turned around, but did not see a single soul. Afraid for
their lives, they started to run—but the voices kept becoming louder. Both Harun Mama and Sanu
swore that they saw nothing except hear the voices and the music. It was pitch dark in the tall bamboo
forests, with some fading moonlight escaping through the bamboos. They tried hard to see if there was
any human in the woods, but there was none.

As they were contemplating their next move Harun Mama saw Sanu’s head shaking from side to side as
though someone had gripped his head. He called out to Sana when he felt a sharp object hitting his
head. He touched his head to see if anything had fallen on his head, but he felt nothing. At the same
time the voices became more and more urgent. Harun Mama took hold of Sanu’s hand and started to
run.

They ran and ran, until they stumbled against a tree and fell unconscious. They could not remember
anything after that. It was at the bottom of this tree that they were discovered by grandmother’s
emissary.

The relatives and the village people all agreed that Harun Mama and Sanu were lucky to have escaped
the clutches of the evil spirits. The spirits that had descended on them were locally known as
Nishidharas (Night Demons) of Mukhtarpur who do not let go off their victims that easy. Once they
descend on the humans they inhabit their brains, and drive them completely crazy. In the past there
had been a handful of such victims who lost their mind totally and led a life of complete lunatics until
their death.

Harun Mama and Sanu took two full weeks to recover from their trauma. The one nice ending of all this
was that since that horrific incident, Harun Mama never ventured to see any Jatra.