It was 2002. I lived in a small industrial town. Life was peaceful here, something we realized only when we grew up and got stuck in the rat race. Those were times when cell phones weren't common household items, only a few people had landline phones, and we weren't that fortunate either. We had a grocery shop in the market, and my father used to transport goods from Kolkata for retail, which had just been renamed from Calcutta the previous year. He would travel to Kolkata a few times a month, transporting the goods by train. On those days, or a day earlier, we would get a call at a fellow shopkeeper's STD booth, and either I or my elder brother would have the responsibility of gathering porters and auto-rickshaws to carry the goods from the station to our godown. This incident happened on one such chilly winter night.
My elder brother had an exam the next day, so the entire responsibility for transporting the goods from the station to the godown was mine. Our small town had a very small station where only a limited number of trains arrived each day, with just two express trains - one heading towards Howrah and the other coming from Howrah. The train my father was supposed to be on was scheduled to arrive at 9 PM. So, I reached the station 15 minutes before the scheduled time. To my surprise, the trains were running late as usual.
I started strolling around the station premises. Our town was perched on a hilly plateau; the station was situated at ground level with a small waiting room and station master's office. The railway platform was laid much lower than the surrounding ground. Beyond the railway tracks, the chimneys of the power plant rose into view. The vista from the upper part of the station was truly stunning. The chimneys of the power plant stood tall, their warning lights blinking steadily, cutting through the dark night like silent beacons. The constant hum of the machines working tirelessly, 24/7, 365 days a year, could be felt in the air - a rhythmic pulse that never stopped. From a distance, the massive structures seemed overwhelming, their sheer size dwarfing everything around them. Looking at them from outside, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of wonder and insignificance, as these towering giants carried on with their relentless work, indifferent to the world around them.
Suddenly, I saw my childhood friend Dheeraj. We had studied together until primary school, then we moved on to different schools for our secondary education. Since it was a small town, we often saw each other, but after a long time, we met in a situation where we had nothing to do but had a chance to truly catch up. This time, we reminisced about our childhood memories, shared our current situations, and discussed plans for the future. Dheeraj, a.k.a. "DK" - friends called him DK, and they barely knew his full name except for those who studied in his class, but even they preferred calling him DK, even the teachers did. He had come to see off his relatives, who had come from Kolkata and were returning. His relatives were supposed to take a train that was scheduled around 8 PM, but because of the delays, the train had not yet arrived. We waited for the trains and passed the time talking about the mischiefs we did in school.
Eventually, the down train arrived, but no goods were unloaded, nor even my father came. Likely because of a delay at the origin station - a common problem back then due to the lack of communication. It was frustrating, but something we had grown used to. Many times, we'd wait at the station only to leave empty-handed.
As the night deepened, the cold sharpened, and a biting chill settled in the air. I was on the verge of leaving when the up train arrived, and DK assisted his relatives in boarding the train.
We stood for a moment, gathering ourselves to depart. Our paths would run parallel for a short while, and we braced against the cold, zipping up our jackets and donning gloves to shield ourselves from the howling winter winds.
As we rode our bicycles, the town was suddenly plunged into complete darkness - a power cut that left everything still and silent, even the streetlamps. The only light came from the full moon, now acting as our guiding light over the empty streets. We had planned to take the main road, counting on the streetlights to light our way through the cold night. But with the power out, it didn't matter anymore. We shared a glance and, without speaking, took the shorter route - cloaked in shadow but bathed in the eerie light of the moon.
As we pedaled our bicycles, slicing through the chilly winds, we raced along the moonlit hills and valleys of the road. Within moments, we reached the post office, where we took a sharp left into a dark alley - quiet and seldom traveled, as evidenced by the dry leaves scattered across the ground. To our right loomed the back of a large, abandoned dormitory, built in the 1940s for the German engineers who constructed the first power plant in the town. The darkness here was thick. Just ahead, a circular island of trees stood in the middle of the road, and beside that, a school, surrounded by its boundary walls, had long been closed and left to decay.
As we entered the alley, enveloped in fog and shadow, I raced down the sloping road on my bicycle, only to realize that DK was no longer by my side. I stopped and glanced back, but he was nowhere to be seen. The thick fog only deepened my unease. For a moment, I wondered if he had taken the path by the school, though that wasn't part of our plan. I turned back, calling his name into the stillness, but there was only silence in response. I pedaled back uphill to search for DK, and that's when I saw him, riding his bicycle by the circular island of trees in the middle of the road. Suddenly, I saw a shadowy figure sitting behind him on his bicycle. There was a woman sitting behind him. It felt as though she was holding him back, and despite his efforts, he couldn't move forward - yet somehow, he kept riding. A cold fear ran through me, freezing me where I stood. My whole body went numb, and I couldn't move. It felt like something had taken hold of me, making my heart race and my skin crawl. I tried to call out to DK, but fear choked my voice. What if that woman on the bicycle heard me? My mind raced - how could I leave him like this? Should I inform his family? But I didn't have time to think.
Summoning all my courage, I moved toward him, only to see him fading into the fog along with the shadowy figure. They kept circling the island, over and over, like they were trapped. I shouted his name, but it was as if he couldn't hear me. Determined to stop him, I pedaled after him, calling out desperately. But then I realized DK couldn't hear me - someone else could. Her head twisted a full 360 degrees, her face obscured by tangled hair, except for her eyes - burning like flames from hell. My heart nearly stopped. Panic surged through me, and I crashed my bike into his, sending us both sprawling onto the ground. The cold bit into me as I lay there, the sting of the fall sharpening the chill.
As I tried to stand, I saw DK stretching his hand out to help me. He said, "What are you doing here? I went ahead and didn't see you, so I came back. How did you fall?" I was stunned. I had come to rescue him, but he spoke like nothing had happened. Before I could say anything, a beam of light cut through the darkness - it was a C.I.S.F. patrol vehicle. The officer, a friend's father, looked shocked to see us. In an irritated tone, he scolded us for being out so late, especially with the power outage. We tried to explain about the train, but he interrupted us, saying, "People avoid this road even during the day. You shouldn't be here. I saw this other guy coming down and then going back up, that's why we followed him." He was referring to DK. So, it was true - he had come back for me. I was the one who was stuck in that distorted reality. Without wasting another moment, we left the place. Officer uncle helped us through the dark road with his jeep's headlights, guiding us safely home. That night, I could barely sleep. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw her eyes glowing like fire.
A few days later, I ran into Officer Uncle. He recognized me and, in an apologetic tone, said, "I was too harsh that night, but don't you know the story of that school? Many unnatural events have occurred there with no explanation. People have claimed to witness something supernatural."
He then told me about an incident involving the school. About five years ago, a woman named Mary worked as a nanny there. The government had recently introduced the Mid-Day Meal Scheme, aimed at improving children's nutrition and increasing school attendance. Mary was responsible for cooking the meals at the school. One day, after eating the food, all the children fell ill, and tragically, many of them died. Heartbroken parents blamed Mary for the incident. She, too, believed it was her fault, especially as her own daughter had been among those who died.
Devastated and guilt-ridden, Mary took her own life in the school. Later, an investigation revealed that the government-supplied rations had caused the food poisoning, and Mary wasn't to blame. The school was closed briefly during the inquiry, but when it reopened, many parents were too scared to send their children back. Worse still, strange things began to happen. Staff and teachers reported seeing Mary - some in the school kitchen, others wandering the corridors, as if searching for something. Guards refused to stay on the premises after sunset, and even the local night watchman avoided the area. News of these paranormal occurrences spread, and eventually, no parents were willing to send their children to the school, leading to its permanent closure.
Hearing this story, I realized the shadowy figure I had seen that night was Mary's spirit. The people of the town were also responsible for her death, as they blamed her for the incident without knowing the actual truth. Maybe that's why people don't speak about it anymore, or else I would have known, or at least DK would have known, and he would have avoided that route. What happened that night became a dark secret I never shared with anyone, wondering why only I saw her. Since then, I've avoided that route - even in daylight.
My elder brother had an exam the next day, so the entire responsibility for transporting the goods from the station to the godown was mine. Our small town had a very small station where only a limited number of trains arrived each day, with just two express trains - one heading towards Howrah and the other coming from Howrah. The train my father was supposed to be on was scheduled to arrive at 9 PM. So, I reached the station 15 minutes before the scheduled time. To my surprise, the trains were running late as usual.
I started strolling around the station premises. Our town was perched on a hilly plateau; the station was situated at ground level with a small waiting room and station master's office. The railway platform was laid much lower than the surrounding ground. Beyond the railway tracks, the chimneys of the power plant rose into view. The vista from the upper part of the station was truly stunning. The chimneys of the power plant stood tall, their warning lights blinking steadily, cutting through the dark night like silent beacons. The constant hum of the machines working tirelessly, 24/7, 365 days a year, could be felt in the air - a rhythmic pulse that never stopped. From a distance, the massive structures seemed overwhelming, their sheer size dwarfing everything around them. Looking at them from outside, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of wonder and insignificance, as these towering giants carried on with their relentless work, indifferent to the world around them.
Suddenly, I saw my childhood friend Dheeraj. We had studied together until primary school, then we moved on to different schools for our secondary education. Since it was a small town, we often saw each other, but after a long time, we met in a situation where we had nothing to do but had a chance to truly catch up. This time, we reminisced about our childhood memories, shared our current situations, and discussed plans for the future. Dheeraj, a.k.a. "DK" - friends called him DK, and they barely knew his full name except for those who studied in his class, but even they preferred calling him DK, even the teachers did. He had come to see off his relatives, who had come from Kolkata and were returning. His relatives were supposed to take a train that was scheduled around 8 PM, but because of the delays, the train had not yet arrived. We waited for the trains and passed the time talking about the mischiefs we did in school.
Eventually, the down train arrived, but no goods were unloaded, nor even my father came. Likely because of a delay at the origin station - a common problem back then due to the lack of communication. It was frustrating, but something we had grown used to. Many times, we'd wait at the station only to leave empty-handed.
As the night deepened, the cold sharpened, and a biting chill settled in the air. I was on the verge of leaving when the up train arrived, and DK assisted his relatives in boarding the train.
We stood for a moment, gathering ourselves to depart. Our paths would run parallel for a short while, and we braced against the cold, zipping up our jackets and donning gloves to shield ourselves from the howling winter winds.
As we rode our bicycles, the town was suddenly plunged into complete darkness - a power cut that left everything still and silent, even the streetlamps. The only light came from the full moon, now acting as our guiding light over the empty streets. We had planned to take the main road, counting on the streetlights to light our way through the cold night. But with the power out, it didn't matter anymore. We shared a glance and, without speaking, took the shorter route - cloaked in shadow but bathed in the eerie light of the moon.
As we pedaled our bicycles, slicing through the chilly winds, we raced along the moonlit hills and valleys of the road. Within moments, we reached the post office, where we took a sharp left into a dark alley - quiet and seldom traveled, as evidenced by the dry leaves scattered across the ground. To our right loomed the back of a large, abandoned dormitory, built in the 1940s for the German engineers who constructed the first power plant in the town. The darkness here was thick. Just ahead, a circular island of trees stood in the middle of the road, and beside that, a school, surrounded by its boundary walls, had long been closed and left to decay.
As we entered the alley, enveloped in fog and shadow, I raced down the sloping road on my bicycle, only to realize that DK was no longer by my side. I stopped and glanced back, but he was nowhere to be seen. The thick fog only deepened my unease. For a moment, I wondered if he had taken the path by the school, though that wasn't part of our plan. I turned back, calling his name into the stillness, but there was only silence in response. I pedaled back uphill to search for DK, and that's when I saw him, riding his bicycle by the circular island of trees in the middle of the road. Suddenly, I saw a shadowy figure sitting behind him on his bicycle. There was a woman sitting behind him. It felt as though she was holding him back, and despite his efforts, he couldn't move forward - yet somehow, he kept riding. A cold fear ran through me, freezing me where I stood. My whole body went numb, and I couldn't move. It felt like something had taken hold of me, making my heart race and my skin crawl. I tried to call out to DK, but fear choked my voice. What if that woman on the bicycle heard me? My mind raced - how could I leave him like this? Should I inform his family? But I didn't have time to think.
Summoning all my courage, I moved toward him, only to see him fading into the fog along with the shadowy figure. They kept circling the island, over and over, like they were trapped. I shouted his name, but it was as if he couldn't hear me. Determined to stop him, I pedaled after him, calling out desperately. But then I realized DK couldn't hear me - someone else could. Her head twisted a full 360 degrees, her face obscured by tangled hair, except for her eyes - burning like flames from hell. My heart nearly stopped. Panic surged through me, and I crashed my bike into his, sending us both sprawling onto the ground. The cold bit into me as I lay there, the sting of the fall sharpening the chill.
As I tried to stand, I saw DK stretching his hand out to help me. He said, "What are you doing here? I went ahead and didn't see you, so I came back. How did you fall?" I was stunned. I had come to rescue him, but he spoke like nothing had happened. Before I could say anything, a beam of light cut through the darkness - it was a C.I.S.F. patrol vehicle. The officer, a friend's father, looked shocked to see us. In an irritated tone, he scolded us for being out so late, especially with the power outage. We tried to explain about the train, but he interrupted us, saying, "People avoid this road even during the day. You shouldn't be here. I saw this other guy coming down and then going back up, that's why we followed him." He was referring to DK. So, it was true - he had come back for me. I was the one who was stuck in that distorted reality. Without wasting another moment, we left the place. Officer uncle helped us through the dark road with his jeep's headlights, guiding us safely home. That night, I could barely sleep. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw her eyes glowing like fire.
A few days later, I ran into Officer Uncle. He recognized me and, in an apologetic tone, said, "I was too harsh that night, but don't you know the story of that school? Many unnatural events have occurred there with no explanation. People have claimed to witness something supernatural."
He then told me about an incident involving the school. About five years ago, a woman named Mary worked as a nanny there. The government had recently introduced the Mid-Day Meal Scheme, aimed at improving children's nutrition and increasing school attendance. Mary was responsible for cooking the meals at the school. One day, after eating the food, all the children fell ill, and tragically, many of them died. Heartbroken parents blamed Mary for the incident. She, too, believed it was her fault, especially as her own daughter had been among those who died.
Devastated and guilt-ridden, Mary took her own life in the school. Later, an investigation revealed that the government-supplied rations had caused the food poisoning, and Mary wasn't to blame. The school was closed briefly during the inquiry, but when it reopened, many parents were too scared to send their children back. Worse still, strange things began to happen. Staff and teachers reported seeing Mary - some in the school kitchen, others wandering the corridors, as if searching for something. Guards refused to stay on the premises after sunset, and even the local night watchman avoided the area. News of these paranormal occurrences spread, and eventually, no parents were willing to send their children to the school, leading to its permanent closure.
Hearing this story, I realized the shadowy figure I had seen that night was Mary's spirit. The people of the town were also responsible for her death, as they blamed her for the incident without knowing the actual truth. Maybe that's why people don't speak about it anymore, or else I would have known, or at least DK would have known, and he would have avoided that route. What happened that night became a dark secret I never shared with anyone, wondering why only I saw her. Since then, I've avoided that route - even in daylight.
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