Windows Of Sehar Ganj Never Opened Again

By Aditi Sharma

Dhira is anxiously counting the sheep again as the thunder is getting louder and it will rain any minute now. She cannot find one missing sheep anywhere on the hill and can't wait any longer to take the others home before it gets dark. Although it's not yet the time for them to get back but it will get dark earlier today due to rains. Dhira ran atop of the hill searching for the sheep, breathing heavily she sighed in relief when she saw the young one grazing on the shredded Twigs. Without wasting any time she picked him up in her arms and made her way quickly towards her house. Dhira's mother Lakshmi was waiting at the door for her daughter. Her eyes were engrossed in fear of the ruckus that may happen if Dhira does not come back before it gets dark. Her heart beat was rushing faster than the lightening in the sky. Just in the moment when she was about to collapse on the floor in anticipation of what could happen, she saw Dhira racing towards home with her flock. Lakshmi opened the gates of the farm and moved the sheep in their pen while still not being able to pace down her racing heart beats. "Are you alright, amma?" Dhira passed a glass of cold water to Lakshmi

and sat next to her on the verandah rubbing her hand gently. Lakshmi took a couple of minutes to come out of her apprehension only to burst in tears as if in some clash with the rains pouring outside. Slowly she recovered herself and without paying any heed to Dhira’s questions she took her inside their house hastily. It’s forbidden to leave the house once it gets dark in Sehar Ganj. Streets get covered in deafening silence with the setting sun. There are many rumours floating around nearby cities and villages about Sehar Ganj. Some people believe the place is cursed by some witch, others claim to have experienced paranormal incidents there. Years ago Sehar Ganj was a bright, untroubled and gleeful place jingling with sounds of women’s laughter making pickle, beading ornaments, singing and dancing their hearts out, carefree children running and playing frolically until their mothers rebuked them to the beds. This dynamic little hamlet turned into a sleepy one on a fateful dark night which is not getting over yet. Dhira and other children asked their parents multiple times that why are they not allowed to go out of the house once it’s dark. They were always answered with the blank lost eyes. Nobody ever talked about that night but couldn’t get the screams and sights of devastation out of their instinct as well. Radha, a young beautiful widow living with her one year old son in the Ganj screeched a loud cry when she saw eight men of her village hanging from the Mango tree outside her house-beheaded. Their smashed heads lay on the sand with the wall behind smeared in their blood and a warning. Since then Sehar Ganj sets with the setting sun. The news spread like wild fire and soon everyone around came up with their own reasons of that woeful incident. People swore to their encounters of ghosts and spirits. Radha’s son being a toddler that time does not remember the incident and never asks his mother anything. He only bears in his mind the teachings his mother gives him every night as she puts him to sleep “Never intrude with the honour of a woman. A woman is just like water, gentle when nurturing lives, outrageous when provoked”.

By Aditi Sharma