The Lahiri House Murder

Nandini Lahiri was visiting her parents in Assam for a month long vacation. Her father was a tea garden manager and had recently shifted in to a plush thirteen bedroom bungalow situated in Dibrugarh. Tea garden bungalows were built during the British rule in India and had innumerable legends attached to them.  One of the most popular legend that did the rounds in Mr. Lahiri’s bungalow was that of a young Indian woman who had an affair with a British officer during the early nineteenth century and was killed by the villagers. Since, then many people in the bungalow seem to have witnessed multiple unexplainable activities around the house.
Nandini, a pleasant young girl who feared nothing apart from Dogs, Cats, Crickets, Worms, Rats, Heights, Raging traffic and Ghosts. Well almost nothing! Every night she would say a little prayer and take to bed. Her bedroom was on the second floor and had one grand study table, a couch and a single bed.  A week had passed by and her holidays unrolled before her eyes just the way she had imagined - Orange juice served to her bed along with the daily newspaper, elaborate breakfast, lunch, golf at the gymkhana club and end the day with a dip in her private pool in the bungalow.
It  was one of those perfect days where she had met a smart and intelligent man called Rishar at the club and they hit it off instantly. “It can’t get better than this!” she gushed under her breath. He dropped her back to her place, she jiggled a little, hopped a little and sing-songed her way to the room. Quickly mumbled her little prayer and took to bed. That night she wasn’t sleepy as she relived her ‘Mills & Boons’ moments from the evening just when she heard strange footsteps in her bedroom. She looked no further as she jumped out of her bed and sneaked out to her brother’s room. She had definitely heard and felt a strange presence of somebody in the room. The following day her brother chose to ignore her explanation and warned her not to intrude his privacy while the servants in the house acknowledged her experience and added their two bits to the story that the ‘village girl’ was murdered in her room. ‘Wow!’ she said in disgust. As the sun gave way to the moon, she chose to be a brave heart and ignore the tale spinning around her room. This time reciting her prayer multiple times before closing her eyes. Only to be awakened by the same strange footsteps, she plopped out of her bed and rushed into her brother’s room. Her brothers rants were better than a rendezvous with a ghost, she thought. Yet, another week had passed by and she would still take refuge in her brother’s bedroom despite all warnings not to sleep in his room until he locked his room so was her parents room. She couldn’t be sleeping in other rooms all by herself. What if the ghost decided to follow her, she wondered.
Gathering all courage she decided to head back to her room and face her biggest fear. She moved towards her room. She armed herself with an iron rod (she had heard that ghosts fear anything made with the ferrous metal) and picture of Lord Ganesha in her pocket. As she stepped into her room and went to switch the lights on, she let out a huge shriek, jumped high in the air as she felt a cold wave pass by her legs. For the next few minutes she screamed, moved her iron rod in every possible direction, jumped as high she could, all this with her eyes closed. The last thing she wanted to see was a ghost. If the ghost wouldn’t kill her, the sight of it will for sure. Her folks, brother and servants rushed to the spot from where they had heard the ear-piercing ruckus. Upon reaching his weapon wielding daughter’s room Mr. Lahiri immediately grabbed her by her waist. Nandini let out another cry and fanatically started beating up her dad hard with the rod. When her brother in a very sleepy and groggy voice said ‘you crushed a Rat under your foot!’.  Silence preceded.

*Disclaimer: All characters and place are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely co-incidental.

Categories: short story