Capturing a Pernicious Ghost

(continued)

By Raghbir Dhillon & Doris Dhillon

I went to Sucha Singh's house. He rushed to grab my hand and asked, "Detective, have you traced the ghost?"

I shook my head. "I spent one night at the cremation grounds and found no sign of a ghost."

"Wait for two more days; the ghost is bound to come there."

"I'll do that," I said. "What statement did Taro make before jumping into the fire?"

"Not a single word."

"I've learned that she didn't walk to the cremation grounds. Why?"

"She begged me to help her in her anguish, and I offered her whisky. She drank a full bottle and passed out."

"Then you murdered her. She never had a heart attack."

"Her heart failed after she got drunk."

"My investigations show that your step-mother entered the next world as a virgin," I said.

"My father was potent and did a good job."

"Stop telling lies. I've checked with the Village Hakim."

His chin dropped, and he mumbled, "My father did have some problems."

"I'm not interested in your father's potency," I said.

"Anyhow, I've fixed my devices and gadgets in the cremation grounds and will trap the ghost."

"Thanks. Tonight is the anniversary, and it will be there. I can loan you my rifle."

"Don't worry. I always carry my revolver," I said and ambled to the gurdwara.

At nine, I fixed my backpack, checked my revolver, and walked to the cremation grounds. The area in front of the wall was swept, and a marigold garland rested near the burning lamp. I planted my microphone behind the wall and climbed the banyan tree, not far from the area.

At midnight, the microphone picked up the sounds of rustling clothes, and I saw a shadowy figure emerging from the bushes. It had a pitch-black face with red flaming eyes. Its long tongue covered with blood was sticking out of its fanged teeth. The cremation attendant ran to his hut and closed the door. I examined the apparition with my night binoculars. It came near the lamp, lifted the garland, and sat cross-legged.

I climbed down the tree, hid under my blanket, and crawled toward the ghost.

"Don't squirm. Nothing can save you," it yelled.

"Have mercy upon a poor man," I whispered in faked Sucha Singh's voice.

"Where was your mercy when you raped me while my husband was lying on his death bed?"

I was stunned at this revelation, but mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"You showed no compassion when you drugged me and laid me on the burning logs."

I stuffed leaves under the blanket and pussyfooted to the bushes in the rear of the wall, while the apparition stared at the stuffed blanket. I made a swift, noiseless move, and pounced upon the ghost. The mask fell down and revealed the scarred face of an old woman. She was calm, and I saw warmth in her placid eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I've been hired by Sucha Singh," I said. "Well, who are you?"

"I'm Taro, Sucha Singh's step-mother."

"You're supposed to have turned to ashes with your husband."

"Satguru saved me."

"How?"

"Guru Nanak intervened and protected me. You can see what flames did to my face and body," she spoke with firm conviction.

My heart cried as I studied her hands and face.

"Please release your grasp on my hair; it hurts."

I dropped my hold and sat in front of her. She stuffed the mask in her bag and said, "Let me explain everything, and then you can decide. When I was fifteen, Sucha Singh's father purchased me for ten thousand rupees. Though my husband was older than my grandfather, I remained faithful to him. My husband became sick and couldn't get out of the bed, and I went daily to the gurdwara to pray for him. During this period, Sucha Singh dragged me to the basement and raped me. I begged him, but he laughed and didn't stop this torture. I was devastated but was helpless and couldn't reveal this to my husband; it would have broken his heart. When my husband passed away, I told Sucha Singh that I longed to go to my parents, complete my education, and become a teacher. He refused my request and wanted me to become his third wife."

She paused to clear her throat and continued, "I told him that I'll never do that. Then he requested me to become a sati."

"Didn't you tell him that Sikh Scriptures forbid sati?"

"Yes, then he told me that it was only a suggestion, and he was not serious about it. I had a severe headache, and he gave me some medicine, and I passed out. When the flames scorched by body, I regained consciousness. I found myself in burning logs, lying over the corpse of my husband. Suddenly, thunder and lightening covered the sky. Sucha Singh and his family left and directed the cremation attendant to complete the job. Strong winds removed the burning logs from my body and rain doused the fire. I managed to crawl out and hid in the bushes. I was stark naked, and bleeding blisters covered my body. The rain stopped, and the attendant again lighted the fire. I crawled to his hut, took out one sheet, and walked to the Golden temple and joined the beggars and lepers. With my open, bleeding sores, people thought that I was a leper. After fifteen days, I saved enough money to buy a ticket to Hardwar to join the Nirmla Sikh Ashram under a new identity."

"Why did you come back to the place where you suffered so much?"

"To help the women. We are sold like cattle and treated like buffalos. I purchased a mask, appeared on the cremation ground and sent for Sucha Singh, who trembled as he stood before me. I ordered him to start a primary school for the girls, and he agreed. I told him that I'll visit him on the cremation anniversary and check him. On my next visit, I ordered him to upgrade the girls' school to high school level, and he did."

"You did a noble job," I said. "Why did you kill his horse?"

"He promised not to beat his wives. When I learned from a villager, who visited our Ashram, that he had not kept his word, I had to do something to scare him. I knew the secret passage to the barn, slipped through it, and poisoned his horse."