This story,’ The Blue Light’, is one among the inexplicable experiences of my life. Perhaps ‘experience ‘ is not the apt word; a ‘soap bubble of phantasmagoria’ might better describe it. I have oft tried to poke it with the needle of Scientific approach. However, I could never succeed in that endeavour. You might be able to do that-analyse it, and interpret it too. I have no other recourse than to depict it as an inexplicable experience… indeed I have none.
The experience ran like this:
There is no need to tell the year, the month or the day. I was searching for a house. That was nothing new- I had always been in that singular quest. I was never satisfied with a house or room; and would end up finding endless faults with my place of residence. But to whom could I gripe about it? ‘Let go if you did not like it!’ But then where was I supposed to go?
I would typically stay in a rented house, and then complain about the place. There were so many rooms and houses that thus fell victim to my grievances. It was of course, no one’s fault. I would then leave the house due to my dislike and some one else who liked it would soon replace me. ‘The saga of the rented house’ went on in that manner.
It was a time when houses were scarce to find. It was quite expensive to get a decent accommodation. As I searched high and low, I found it-a house!
It was a small bungalow. Bhargavi Nilayam. Far from the madding crowd of the town . Almost on the border of the municipality. There was an old board hanging on th gate: ‘To Let’.
I took a fancy to that house. It was rather ancient. At a first glance, it was intriguing. That was alright with me. I decided that I could stay in that place. There was a portico and two rooms on the first floor. There were four rooms on the ground floor. There was also a kitchen and a bathroom. There was a pipe connection too. However, there was no electricity.
There was a well near the kitchen. It was made of stone and was very old. The compound was full of trees. At a corner stood a toilet. There was a wall enclosing all the four sides of the house; which was near the public road.
I was delightfully surprised! How come no one had rented that place till then; I wondered. On looking at that old mansion, I felt that it was akin to a gorgeous woman who should be hidden from prying eyes! I should cover her with a purdah!
I ran about frantically arranging funds. After offering two months’ rent in advance, I took over the key of the house. I shifted my residence to the top floor immediately. I purchased a hurricane lamp and kerosene that day. The labourers who came to shift my luggage seemed frightened of the place- they refused to step inside; and left my household goods outside the gate.
I swept and mopped all the rooms; cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom. There was lot of dust and rubbish everywhere. As I cleaned every room rigorously, I found a locked one. I left it intact. I took a bath. Feeling greatly relieved, I sat on the raised stone barricade around the old well. I was ecstatic. I could dream endlessly. I could run around that verdant compound. I planned to create a lovely garden for myself. It should be full of roses, I decided. There should be jasmines too!
I wondered whether I should hire a cook and then decided against it. When I go out for my breakfast, I would get some tea in a flask. I would arrange for lunch at a hotel. Perhaps they might send my dinner over. I had to speak to the postman about my new address. I should warn him against revealing my hideaway to others. Such lovely nights and days of blissful solitude were awaiting me! I could write lots and lots! Thinking a thousand thoughts like the above, I stared into the well. I could not make out whether it had water inside or not. Too many shrubs had grown within it. I dropped a stone inside.
Blluuumm….A huge echo! There was water inside!
It was eleven in the morning then.
I had hardly slept the night before. I had settled my hotel bills and had met the house owner. I had meticulously packed the canvas cot, my gramophone, the various records, my documents, my arm-chair, shelf: all my possessions! I had started off to my new home before dawn arose.
I locked up all the doors of my new abode and padlocked the front door. Putting the key in my pocket, I strolled onto the road, albeit preening a bit.
I wondered with whose song I should inaugurate the new home that night. I had more than a hundred gramophone records: English, Arabic, Urdu, Hindi, Tamil, Bengali. I had no Malayalam records with me. There were lots of talented singers and their records out there; however, I was disappointed with the music direction. Now good directors and singers have started appearing. I decided to purchase some records in Malayalam too.
Whose song should I play first?
Pankaj Mallick? Dilip Kumar Roy? Saigal? Bing Crosby? Paul Robson? Abdul Kareem Khan? Kanan Devi? Kumary Mamju Dasgupta? Khurshid? Jyoti Khare? M.S.Subbalakshmy?
I started pondering over a few names. There was a song..’Door des ke rahne walleh…’ Was it a female tenor? I could not recollect…Well, will see to it when I return, I shrugged.
I met the postman. When I told him about my new residence, he started in fright.
‘ Oh Lord! Sir…there was an unnatural death in that house. No one stays there…That was the reason no one occupied the bungalow till now.’
‘ Unnatural death?’ I was baffled for a moment. Then I enquired about the incident.
‘ There is a well in the courtyard….Someone jumped inside and committed suicide. There has been no peace in that house after that. So many people tried to rent it. In the nights, the doors shut with a bang by themselves…the water pipes are opened…’
The doors bang shut! The water pipes open by themselves! I had noticed the lock on the water pipes. The owner had mentioned that it was to prevent outsiders from using those. But I had not pondered on the need to lock up bathroom pipes!
The postman was running on full steam,’ Someone tries to suffocate you at night…Didn’t anyone tell you about it?’
( Will Continue)
Ministhy S Nair 