What Brings Us To Hills?

It is like having a chocolate. It sets in motion an irresistible desire to have more of it. You were better off not having it if you were strictly on a diet. Hills are a difficult terrain to live in. To do anything you have to go up or down and then do the same to come back. Life is tough out there; you just have to ask an old woman to get an answer. Men have a different perspective, they would be quite indifferent for they merely spent time out there not lived through them. Back in old days men were breeding machines, women the powerhouse that ran the community. Form tilling, sowing and harvesting, grinding and cooking meals to taking care of children everything depended on her. Men talked and talked with a gurgling hookah by their side. Things have changed now slightly; men have remained as they were, women still cooking but the fields have gone barren. So what attracts us to hills, deep down there is a desire not just to have a holiday but to spend rest of the life in the wilderness. Everything about hills become easy and romanticized if you don’t have to do the hard work.  It affords private space, tranquility and soothing scenery. You are away from the pollution of chaos and environment of a busy town. The technology is available, means of modern life are available albeit with time lag nevertheless there to access. Towns are also not for off with motorized roads ….

If you think hard, action is there in wilderness, not in a busy town.

Nobody Returns From Badolgaon: Epilogue

Manyawar Diwakar Caulla and Chacha Reba Caulla succumbed to Billu’s devious ways.  Billu alias Shashi Vader successfully fought the criminal case in court by not contesting the prosecution but pleading insanity. He performed ace act in court and various instances of bizarre incidents involving him came handy for the judge to remand him to a mental hospital for treatment. Four years later E Babu received a letter from him gloating,

“E Babu I was released from the hospital after successful treatment. I am a free man now. The curse of KD is gone. I am a contractor in Gupt Kashi now; for every sanctioned tree felling, I fell three. This is really good business. ….. Who says  crime doesn’t pay!

The End

Nobody Returns From Badolgaon : Conclusion

‘Who the heck is that? Billu, you have been our trusted help for almost ten years now. We treated you like family. Tell me have we ever given you reason to complain?’

‘Who the heck is that! Is that all you have to say? You can loosen my wrists, it is very uncomfortable. I am not a violent person, you should know that. I take pride in doing things with some degree of finesse. I am a cerebral person.’

‘You are a cerebral person? No, you are the most uncouth, vengeful waster. I can’t imagine anything in the world that could goad a person to embark on such a macabre endeavor that would be revolting to even a criminal’s sensibility.’

‘You don’t know anything about things that revolt a man’s sensibility. There was a time when we were Badolas, the original inhabitants of this village, driven away be marauding Caullas. ’

‘So what happened?’

‘What happened? You are one insolent rascal who deserves to die. We lost our identity had to live like 'duums' all because some hot shot tantric was engrossed in his own ego.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Well, I had intended to reveal the purpose of my searing hatred of Caullas once I had you trapped in the snare I had left in the gadan. I expected you to follow a leisurely gait, a zombie like drift through the gadan once your last hope was also dashed. I suppose one has to pay for excess confidence.’

‘I would have, but it occurred to me that only you could have killed Bhai Madan since the corpse had not stiffened. You think Mnayawar Diwakar and Chacha Reba would survive?’

‘You doubt my ability?’

‘I can’t believe a fellow who regards himself a cerebral can embark on such a vicious project all because some generations ago his ancestors were driven out of their homes!’ 

‘You ignorant sloth, that wasn’t the reason I carried out my vendetta. It was K D, kahaan ka sahib,  who is responsible for our wretchedness.  Many in our family could have been successful individuals but for the smugness of K D. He treated us as expendables.‘

‘How  so; K D Sahib has a reputation for being the most benign, selfless and sacrificing person, a ‘maha-purush’ in the region.’

‘He may be a  ‘maha-purush’ for you but for us the villain of highest order. It was he who picked Badri Badolaji, a man of enormous daring, to be the medium in his quest for acquiring ‘siddhi’. In October 1923 he cajoled Badri to be the man to help him consummate Siddhi  karm-kand  in  a grotesque ritual at the marghat. Nobody from your clan or from the villages nearby would volunteer to act as the medium to perform tantric ritual at the marghat. When the ritual began at the middle of a dark moon night, he drew a circle around him and said, ‘Stay within the circle and nothing will happen to you.’ In his smugness forgot to tell him that terrifying visuals will manifest at the site. When the ritual gathered momentum K D immersed himself completely in the act not once bothering to reassure him.  Soon terrifying images of ‘pisaachs’ dancing around him manifested; which he successfully endured. But when a ferocious ‘baagh’ apparently raced from the far dark space and jumped at him, he pissed in horror. At that moment his amiable uncle who only helped everybody died instantly. Realizing ‘vighn’ in ‘puja’, the extremely egocentric K D cursed Badri, “your entire clan will not live in peace.”

To this day his curse hangs over our head and our misfortune persists. Badriji was mocked in his village, we were ostracized by our own people, our Badola title was stripped and finally we had to deal with the ignominy of branded ‘duums’.  From then on we were called Vaders. The only job our men folks could manage was menial help.  Two years back I had a dream, I saw Shri Badri Badola Sahib in my dream telling “kill those rascals and the curse will go”. I ignored the dream but the dream would keep coming. I am not criminal but a Bakki in Paukhal, word for word, endorsed the dream. Left with no option I had to take this recourse. Initially the idea was repugnant to me but when I applied my cerebral faculties to it, I realized how justified it is and began to like it. E Babu you all deserve to die.’

Next the Epilogue

Nobody Returns From Badolgaon VIII

Now it occurred to E Babu that both Manyawar Diwakar and Chahcha Reba were always with him through the night while the corpse lying there did not show signs of rigor mortis. Then a thought occurred to him the import of which hit him with the force of a thunderbolt. He yelled ‘Billu!’ and dashed towards daand house. When he reached the hill top breathless waited to recoup his strength. First sign of the dawn cracking on the eastern horizon was reassuring. He uprooted a thick stick from the fence of vegetable bed, which made a handy club, walked purposefully into the house. He moved in surreptitiously into the large room where they had spent the night. He saw a completely immobile Manyawar Diwakar slumped on a chair, his mouth stuffed with green paste, an uprooted plant of Cannabis Sativa carelessly lying near his chair. At the other end of room he saw Billu tying Chacha Reba, also not fully conscious to his chair with his own belt. Curiously a hookah was set bang in the middle of the room, apparently to take care of him. Something must have gone wrong with Billu’s plan; he was not expecting E Babu to return. Taking advantage of Billu’s carelessness E Babu moved closer to him surreptitiously and banged the wooden club on his head, not very hard but enough to temporarily cripple him; he wanted the rogue alive . Billu, eyes bulging in surprise, crashed to ground. Quickly, E Babu tied both his hands and legs very hard. Put him on chair and splashed water on his face to revive him. It was important for E Babu to know why this macabre dance of death was played out in serene ‘fiza’ of Badolgaon.

In about fifteen minutes Billu revived, opened his eyes gingerly. When he could not move his arms, he immediately realized that he was trapped proper. He looked at E Babu curiously and sighed, ‘So that trap at gadan did not work!’

‘What trap?’ asked E Babu.

‘Never mind’, he said uninterestedly.

‘Why did you have to kill all of us?’

‘Why not? If you were me, you would do the same.’

‘Who are you?’

‘Now that is a good question.’

‘Well!’

‘I am Shashi Vader!’

Next revelation and conclusion.....

Nobody Returns From Badolgaon VII

Suddenly they were not talking to each other. Just the three of them and one of them was marked killer! Extreme suspicion and antagonism; they quietly, surreptitiously moved away from each other, each trying to find a safe corner, a citadel of security in that cursed house. They were completely foxed at the monumental scale of crime therefore the state of mind of the killer. Something happened in the past that incensed the killer so much that he went to extraordinary length to undertake this recourse to set the score right. The amount of preparation, the planning that went into this undertaking clearly showed utter contempt of the killer. It occurred to E Babu that this desperate man will not stop at anything therefore both Manyawar Diwakar and Chacha Reba don’t look like the killer individually but they could collectively make lethal combination. Manywar Diwakar with his steady, slow paced reasoning could make him the master planner and schemer and Chacha Reba with his choleric anger and sharp reflex the master executer. ‘Are they into this together?’ seemed improbable but not impossible. The question then arises why aren’t they surfacing into open now that most of the men have been eliminated? May be, he rationalized, they are acting cautious after all he is still alive and if their plan fails they can still act innocent. He decided not to wait to get killed instead become proactive. So looked around furtively and quietly eased out of room. Once out he quickly descended the hill looking back now and then.  Once at the bottom of hill, he ran towards Bhai Madan’s house throwing caution to the winds.

Bhai Madan’s house was on the other side of narrow crevice splitting the Chandakhal structure about fifty odd meters from the base of the hill on which their house stood. When he reaches the house, he was surprised by the open front door flap swinging in the night breeze. Inside he was greeted by deathly stillness.  Bahi Madan was already sent to sleep, “kisi ne unko nahlaa diyaa thaa” In a state of shock E Babu didn’t know what to do. His last hope was dashed by the elimination of Madan Bhai. The killer was always one step ahead of him……..

next the final act.....

Nobody Returns From Badolgaon VI

The diabolic ingenuity of killer hit them with the force of a thunderbolt. Clearly the assassin had studied habit of Bhai Girish holding the cup in right hand and occasionally supporting it with the palm of left hand and then using the palm to wipe residual moisture off his lips. There was a thin layer of white crystalline power on the newspaper over which Bhai Girish had his tea cup. Freshly washed cup only helped in sticking the powder at it bottom rim. When he used his left palm to support the cup, the powder passed on to his palm and when he wiped his mouth for residual tea, the powder killed him instantaneously. Even the otherwise calm E Babu with his penetrating wisdom was in state of shock. It occurred to them that their defense against the killer was utterly inadequate. Their only hope was to identify this monster and for that they had to wait until morning to talk to Madan Bhai. The only person not so much affected was Acharya Shubhakar. Sir Prabhakar had taken out his pocket ‘Hanuman Chalisa’ an ancient version he always kept in his pocket, was vigorously reciting from it. Chacha Reba with clenched lips was in total shock, Manyawar Diwakar busy invoking Siddh Baba’s protection, E Babu not inclined to have faith in external intervention was deep in thought. Acharya Shubhakar’s confidence came from reading of stars. He was an ace astrologer; his repeated conquests of successfully forecasting future with razor sharp accuracy imbued him with a sense of invincibility. He knew his cycle of ‘markesh’ (a period when death can occur) was not due until a couple of years on. That was his stubborn belief. Unfortunately the killer did not believed in the cycle of ‘markesh’ when clock struck 4’o clock early morning a rigged arrow shot through the taut bow cleverly concealed behind the calendar on the wall pierced his heart. In an instant Acharya lay dead slumped on his chair despite favorable stars. Nobody moved just watched helplessly.

At last E Babu said, ‘The killer is using our predictable behavior to serve his purpose. We will not survive the night if we act in the manner we are used to. He is manipulating concealed devices but it cannot be a matter of coincidence that he finds his target at precise location. The rogue is adept at reading mind as well as influencing our moves in so subtle manner. You see, Bhai Girish and Acharya Shubhakar became victims due to position of their sitting else somebody other would have died in their stead. We must do something which is absolutely unpredictable to beat his plan. We can make a move now to Bhai Madan’s house, but this would be a predictable course and the killer may have planned for it……’

Sir Prabhakar collapsed. He had not been listening to E Babu’s harangue but vigorously reciting ‘Hanuman Chalisa’, occasionally flipping pages from the tiny book. 

to be contd.

Nobody Returns From Badolgaon V

The commotion woke everyone up; those still alive went into a huddle. No more sleep for them, they began to discuss sketches dealt to each of them. Acharya Shubhakar received a ‘bow & arrow’, Bhai Girirish a ‘tea cup’, Manyawar Diwakar a small ‘plant’, Chacha Reba  a ‘belt’, E Babu a 'hookah''and Sir Prabhakar a ‘rose’.  Billu, their trusted servant brought steaming tea at which Bhai Girish suddenly rose, yelling, ‘Don’t touch my cup!’ quite obviously he was hyper alert to indication of ‘cup’ dealt to him on card. All the cups were checked, washed all over again by Bhai Girish himself and first cup of tea was forced on Billu. They waited for some time to see if the tea was spiked, nothing happened, relieved they began sipping their tea. E Babu said, ‘We can’t go to sleep now, things are moving too fast and we can’t let anyone of us get out of sight even for a second. Someone among us is definitely the diabolic assassin.’

 Even before he could complete his sentence Bhai Girish  collapsed from his chair, tumbled onto floor, sprawled there very inert. Manyawar Diwakar, who was sitting next to him reached for his nerve, declared, ‘The man is dead!’

‘How the hell only he was affected?’ yelled a jittery Sir Prabhakar. Chacha Reba who was now the undisputed clan leader motioned everyone to be quiet, got up and walked over to inert body of Bhai Girish, careful not to touch anything looked closely at him. Foam still spewed from the mouth of dead Bhai Girish, clear sign of potent poison administered to him.’ Eh, poison given to him but, how?’

All of them were intrigued; the cups were washed by Bhai Girish himself and the same tea everyone drank yet only he was affected. Another round of careful scrutiny revealed powdered crystals on Bahi Girish’ left palm. Then they realized how cleverly the poison, most likely Potassium Cyanide, was administered to Bhai Girish. …….

to be contd..... 

Nobody Returns From Badolgaon IV

The message was chilling and unambiguous. The assassin had not only made his determination known but also shown his lethal effectiveness. The shadow of death cast over them had brought telling change in their behavior. First vehement indignation and noisy determination to combat the unknown killer then a period self pity, ‘why me?’ lament and finally quiet of deep depression. They all were suddenly were very quiet, deeply engrossed in their own thoughts. After a while E Babu said,

   ‘This man cannot accomplish his mission without someone helping him from among us. There has to be an aide of this killer among us. It is a possibility that the killer is one of us; the stranger was just a diversion, a dummy told to play a role to put up a smokescreen of deception. Yes the more I think, the more I am convinced that the killer is one among us.’

‘One of us! But we are a family,’ cried Manyawar Diwakar.

‘Yes we are family alright but a generation or two separated to be immediate family. Something gross, very unfair meted out to someone in the family during this time, so much so that the person is taking extraordinary risks to avenge the wrong. We have to dig into our history to find that out. ’

  ‘Budhi Caulla was the only one who had the knowledge of family going back a long time in past. Now there is a Madan Bahi, quite eccentric, lives at the narrow crevice where Chandakhal structure folds. He may possibly have some clue to this conundrum.’

‘OK, we will see him tomorrow’

Bhai Hari now woke to his responsibility, asserting his position as head of the clan said, ‘Alright everybody, be very careful. I think someone should guard while others sleep. May be we can take turns to keep an eye through the night’

‘No need’ said E Babu, ‘The assassin is not only ingenious and clever but also rates himself invincible and a man of finesse. He will not make a crude move.’

     

Bahi Hari wouldn’t listen to this argument. Lined up a roster for a pair of men to stay awake and watch over the house in shifts of two hours. The first to take turn were Sir Prabhakar and Chacha Reba. All the remaining five of them Bhai Hari, Manyawar Diwakar, Bahi Girish, Acharya Shubhakar and E babu accommodated in the same big room adjoining the terrace.

After two hours it was turn of Bhai Girish and Manyawar Diwakar so they went in to wake them up.  To their utter amazement and horror they saw a heavy knife plunged into the chest of sleeping Bhai Hari. A thick torn string attached to the handle of knife as if it was hanging from the ceiling, the thread broke knife fell, plunging through the heart of Bhar Hari. The poor fellow  never got chance to even utter a word. Bhai Hari of course was dealt card showing 'knife'.


to be contd..............

Nobody Returns From Badolgaon III

Soon the two of them were able to collect enough pieces of chair; the square seat provided the evidence. The chair was decidedly worked, one leg clearly was sawed and then fixed back with glue and a weak wood fastener. The glue had characteristic of weakening with time, additionally there was impression of a thin wire tied there. Clearly the chair was rigged to tumble down the ravine, if the glue didn’t work, a thin wire would have been pulled from a remote location. The discovery was electric. The stranger meant business. The precision and clockwork efficiency to execute his plan sent a wave of fear down their spine. The group gathered quickly, got into a huddle in the large room by the terrace. The smugness with which they had dismissed the stranger was replaced with subsurface terror. The apparent bravado was their reflex response of fear. E Babu spoke first,

‘There is absolutely no doubt that the chair was rigged. The purpose quite obviously is to eliminate the group one by one. The man is not a psychopath killing for the sake of a mental urge to kill. A psychopath is also ingenious but he does improvising on the spot. The victims are not identified in advance and killings are spurs of moment urges. This man is going about his agenda in a systematic manner. He is just not settling a score; he is avenging something which a mere murder is not good enough to satisfy. He wants to see the victims suffer in fear and then die.’

‘Who could be such a ruthless person? We have done no one harm, well of any significance  anyway that should invoke such retaliation’, said Bhai Hari. Bhai Hari became de-facto head of the clan although he ranked lower in relationship to Chahcha Reba. Chahca Reba was not a man of bloated ego, so did not contest usurping of his rightful role. In any case this wasn’t the time to covet that role. Manyawar Diwakar said,

‘Yes Bhai Hari, we may have erred in being fair or unreasonable to some persons but never in any significant way. Our family commands respect in the region for model behavior. KD Saheb left a legacy valued so highly by the community. We are envied for belonging to Kala clan but certainly not resented.’

E Babu said, ‘This is no time for gloating over K D Saheb’s legacy. There is killer on the prowl, an ingenious, a highly determined fellow out to carry out his vendetta to eventual conclusion. We must take every care to protect us while search for the motive of this person. Once we have the motive we can identify the killer. One thing is certain though…..

He will follow through his plan in copybook fashion. So look for the sketch carefully you were dealt. Your safety lies in understanding that symbol. think every possible.....’

At that point the group was rattled by a sharp thud, something striking the panel of window that opened to ‘Gaidi ka gadan’. Bahi Girish shouted, ‘Stay very still, this could be a trap!’

So they remained still in state of shock for a while then Bhai Hari motioned to Sir Prabhakar to check at the window. Sir Prabhakar reluctantly went to the window, carefully looked down, nothing unusual could be observed, then he saw the arrow stuck on the window panel. A piece of folded paper tied to its stem. He brought back the letter and read it alaud,

‘You will all die one by one. That’s’ a promise  - Shashi Vader‘

to be contd...........

Nobody Returns From Badolgaon II

‘Ku chai?’ asked an inpatient Budhi Caulla (Who was that?)

‘Ku jaaNR, eh!’ sighed Chahca Reba ( Who knows!)

‘laataa chai’, concluded Budhi Caulla(a retard). Others shook their heads in concurrence. But curiously they began to exchange cards, trying to find out who had what. The sketches were simple line drawings of common objects of daily use such as a chair, a bucket, cup, TV etc with just enough details to give clear and unambiguous indication the item. At last E Babu, a rebel in that group with disdain for conventions, an unorthodox thinker in the midst of them,  said,“That bloke was no ‘laataa’.” Everyone looked at him briefly in astonishment.

“He is either deaf and dumb or acting like one, but he is no retard. Notice his last gesture suggesting a mulling. I suspect deep meaning in the symbolism. Something bizarre gonna happen here”, he said cryptically.

Bhai Hari, who was always at logger heads with E Babu, dismissed the suggestion with wave of hand, ‘This is Badolgaon, nothing happens here. Funny acts are witnessed a dime a dozen here’. Just then they heard a sharp sound of crash; the chair on which Budhi Caulla was sitting on the edge of terrace crashed, its one rear leg came out, the chair tumbled backwards, being on the edge went down the gorge taking along Budhi Caulla. All hell broke, they all rushed down the ravine at the base on which they found body of Budhi Caulla, dismembered and very inert. The debris of chair, broken to pieces lying there scattered all over. E Babu began to collect the pieces of chair. Manyawar Diwakar asked, what was he doing? 

He said, ‘Budhi Caulla was dealt a card which had sketch of a chair!’

To be contd.............

Nobody Returns From Badolgaon

[Disclaimer: This is work of fiction inspired by the strange dream described in Hindi blog. Resemblance to any person living or dead is unintended, inadvertent and coincidental]

The house was large possibly 15-16 rooms in three layers. At one edge was a small terrace garden at the high point of house and then perennial ‘kuul’ releasing a stream of chilled cascading water. The stream ejected to floor below along the width of house and then moved on to fields growing various vegetables. At the mid-level was a large terrace where men would sit, talk inanities. This was the place where legendary K D Saheb used to sleep under open sky impervious to menace of man eater ‘Baagh’ on the prawl. His faithful dog always slept under his cot noiselessly, just low frequency growl barely audible when any intruder seen in the vicinity.

The immediate room along the terrace had a window on the other side which opened to ‘Gardi ka Gadan’ the ‘marghat’ where often the dead were disposed off in fiery fire. Crackle of fire could be heard in the house in the dead of night making it eerie. A group of people were sitting in circle on the terrace. As usual talking inanities. It was around 4 o’clock in the evening already the tired sun had lost its bite, now pale, weak, fast descending to its death. At the head of the circle was Budhi Caulla, distinctly the patriarch evoking respect from the group. He was sitting comfortably on an easy chair the rest of the group in upright chairs, a pair of cots. Then they saw a grim looking young man ascending the path to the house from the village down below.  Soon he was with them, bowed to patriarch and generally glanced at the gathering.

‘Ku chai tu?’  barked Budhi Caulla ( Who are you?)

He mumbled something inaudible gesturing, towards ‘SouD Gaon’. Then abruptly brought out a pack of cards from his pocket, a wicked smile played on his face; shuffled the deck and began dealing a single card to each one of them.  To everyone’s surprise the cards were not regular playing cards but they had simple sketches for instance the card dealt to Budhi Caulla showed a simple a chair. Sir Prabhakar’s card had sketch of a 'Rose' and so on. The gathered men looked at the stranger curiously waiting for him to explain the meaning of this bizarre act. The man simply gestured at the deck, drew a card from it and looked at the sketch it had and pointed a finger at his head in gesture of thinking. Apparently he was conveying a message to the group to think about the symbolism in the sketch and make a meaning out of it. The man then made a departure, disappearing fast behind the growth of woods.    

To be contd...........

Bakki And Hanta

In Maharashtra Hutatma is a respected name. Years ago an Indian diplomat was abducted and killed in London, his name was Ravindra Hutatma Mhatre and Hutamatma Chowk is a famous landmark in Bombay but the name didn’t quite catch on, its old name Flora Fountain is still the well recognizable address in Bombay. Hutatma as you can see is a combination of Sanskrit words 'hut' meaning dead (more likely slain) and 'atma' is of course soul, spirit rooh etc. In Garhwal we have equivalent for 'hutatma'; it is 'hanta' but the two words have entirely opposite connotation; ‘hanta’ is feared, ‘hutatma’ respected. 

It is human tendency is fix a reason for occurrence of an event. If there is no clearly understandable and rational explanation then it is logical to assign supernatural reasons for such an occurrence. Indian system of medicine is one area that is largely based on empirical observation but when persistent remedy fails we have ‘hanta’ to explain the strange affliction. Hanta is agitated soul of a dead person trapped in fourth dimension; possibly a transient space where they reside until they avenge or correct a wrong that was meted out to it. Apparently there are rules that apply to conduct of a ‘hanta. A ‘hanta’ can pierce the dimensional screen and communicate or even take control of body of some persons having weak ‘grah’. In order to get their unfinished agenda accomplished they choose such a person take over his/her body. Then the possessed person begins to act strangely, talks and shows superhuman ability. These acts look so bizarre that first and only inference village folks make is; the person is possessed. The role of Bakki is to listen to this person, find out the reason for the possession and suggest remedy. Bakki is the communication medium between the living and the transient……..  

Bakki : Our own homegrown Oracle

Like other Indians, we too are a paradoxical lot; in part tribal, in part urbane perhaps a little more tribal than others. Think about the tradition of ‘parnaam’, the touching of feet of elders and the toll it takes on a child.  Marriage or a ‘puja’ gathering; a child is submerged in a crowd of old people mechanical touching feet of anybody who has wrinkles on his face. There is absolutely no sense of recognition nor respect, it is just a chore for him and the immediate urge is to get over with it. We have no compunction adopting western attire, eating habits, table manners blah blah but wouldn't let go our tribal mannerism. This tribalism manifest is several ways; existence and awe that a ‘Bakki’ evokes is one such instance.

Bakki is gender neutral i.e. it can be male or a female. Given the power they have on our psyche you would think they are a successful people like the doctors leading an economically successful life but you would be surprised. There is always a caveat in our system; good things come with a price. Bakki probably is corrupted derivative of ‘bak-bak’ or ‘bakwas’ having an Arabic-Persian root meaning idle gossip. Bakki as you can guess speaks, speaks rapidly, sometimes coherently sometimes incoherently which then is left to others to interpret. Bakki lets you into secrets of past and tells in advance future outcome of some tricky issue very important to you. If the out outcome is not favorable then they also suggest means to amend the outcome suitably. In essence Bakki is a witch doctor providing remedy for sometimes explainable diseases or persistent issues that bother us  etc.   

There is a Bakki somewhere near Kotdwara, a Kala woman you can access her services through the courtesy of Manyawar Diwakar. Sir Prabhakar, Master Brajesh are regulars there. If you ask me, I am skeptical about this whole thing, I doesn’t quite gel with our rational thought.      

A Picture From Anandkar Kala

From left - Om prakash chacha ji , my father , rewat daada ji,hari tau ji ,abbu bhaiya ( elder son of Pushpa bua ) , Ghansala maama ji ( husband of Lakshmi bua ) , Diwakar tau ji , Monu bhaiya ( Son of Diwakar tauji )... Occassion was Kum Kum didi 's wedding ( Daughter of Raj kumari tai ji ) in Kotdwar .








Contributed by Madhavi kala

GaiRi ka Gadan: The Marghat - An Analysis

Often it is said that ‘spirits, rooh, bhoot, pret vaigairah’ are visible to some persons only. And indeed only some people tell stories of floating translucent ghosts, often a fudgy white silhouette resembling a human form floating around a dark, lonely house. The simple reason put forward is that their ‘grah’ are weak. But this same phenomenon afflicting a select set of people can have a more rational explanation. It is this; these people are highly imaginative and have low threshold for fear. As a result their perception of fear in dark is enhanced and imagination clouds reality. They seek to see something and their mind projects such a reality.

Question arises then, how some details which this person could not have known, are matched with description of some others? For instance in the case of Badolgaon sighting by Shubhakar Kala, who was completely unaware of the happening in the house, so well described the attire of the apparition matching word for word with ‘taiji’s’ description. The answer probably is that he borrowed the dream from her.

I am not excluding the possibility of real ghosts, a twilight zone where dead exist in transition but it is one explanation, there are other explanation as well to account for strange happenings…     

GaiRi ka Gadan: The Marghat (Final Part)

This is a honest and faithful retelling (but not necessarily the truth) of a bizarre episode as described by Shubhakar Kala. The story goes back a long time in past, possibly the time when that classic photograph was taken in 1963 post marriage of Hari Prasad Kala. (By the way Bhai had a love affair before marriage; that story is as intriguing and will be told in this blog some time later) So the two young boys from Secundrabad, not used to heightened sense of supernatural in a village milieu, had to spend time in daand house. The other folks of the house had gone to attend baraat. Elder tauji being a man of his words, had committed a certain number of ‘baraatis’ so the important gents were included in ‘baraat’ party, the riff-raff left behind. The two fellows from down south found themselves counted as riff raff.  Women as usual were debarred from ‘baraat’. (The men have weird concepts of bravado, conquest; a ‘baraat’ is considered a raiding party and the bride the bounty, therefore women have no role in a ‘baraat’ rather they are expected to be ready at home to welcome the conquering goons) Anyway the house had taiji for sure and may be a few others.

  

It was a moonlit night, a light breeze operating through the small windows. It is early wind up at village due to unavailability electric lights. By nine they were through dinner after some gossip went to bed. Some more small talk at bed and it was good night. Shubhakar, Prabhakar and some other fellows were in the same room, a small window opening to gaiDi ka gadan’ was letting in the diffused light of a bright moon. Soon they all went to sleep…

Past midnight Shubhakar woke up feeling thirsty. It was slightly warm that night not uncomfortable but warm. He began to stir to rise turning over to the side of the windows when he suddenly froze. Debilitating terror striking, causing temporary paralysis. 


He began to perspire profusely, inaudible whisper emanating from him, ‘Prabhakar! Prabhakar!’. The cause of this commotion was sight of a indifferent apparition slipping in through the window into the room, going about looking for something there quiet unmindful of people sleeping there. The floating figure, wearing a white kurta, a weak pale faced fellow seemed to be looking for something there. Then he turned towards him, for  a split  second time froze and then the apparition dissolved. Collecting his wit, Shubhakar  found himself on the floor between his and Prabhakar’s cot, drenched in sweat. Woke up Prabhakar and told the story.

Next day they told the incident to taiji, who shook her head in understanding, said that was your ‘Chacha’ died young of tuberculosis. He is harmless, seen often in that room………..    The most striking part was the attire of the spirit matched word for word with the description of taiji!  

GaiDi ka Gadan: The Marghat (Part I)

‘Marghat’ is a fascinating word most likely a combination of mar -> dead and ghat -> a contraction of ‘ghaat’  a sort of small pier on a river bank. So it means ‘pier of dead’ but its significance should not be lost. A pier is a place where people are ferried to places far away across a body of water therefore ‘marghat’ is a place where dead are ferried to destinations across unknown monolithic space, we can only speculate …….

GaiDi of course is a name of some individual and as you all know ‘gadan’ is dry river bed with scattered boulders of various sizes but rounded off due to years of erosion.  GaiDi ka gadan was a quiet marghat. Daand house was unique in the sense it had its share of arrogance. Built atop(daand) a hill away from the cluster of houses down below declaring pompously I am different and exalted.  The house was not built atop the tallest peak but a wedge like feature protruding like appendix from the high mountain (Chandakhal). The wedge like feature afforded panoramic view of the village below on the front and ‘gaiDi ka gadan’ on the rear. Sometimes when the darkness descends on the valley and quiet is disturbed by crackle of fire down below at the ‘marghat’ consuming the dead, you are bound to be psyched, get an eerie feeling especially when the house is barely populated……….   

One Mind Boggling feature of a Village House..

I as a little boy I often heard that some relative, usually old, fell off the chajja and died. Now I know why. A village house is absolutely bland, not having any aesthetic value. The entire emphasis is on functional requirement;the cheapest, simplest and speediest construction. One expects ages of living and repeated construction evolves into the best building design suitable for that milieu. Nothing of the sort happened in Garhwal. May be it still is evolving....


Essentially a village house in Garhwal like any other in hills have two or three storeys in the front, one less on rear taking into consideration slope of the hill. The house is long, a set of shoe boxes juxtaposed against each other . The lowest part caters to storage/kitchen etc the upper part for living. Bland stairs lead to upper floor, a narrow passage made of stone slabs protruding into free space about one and and half feet wide along the length of the house leads to different room. This passage is usually responsible for death of old people falling into their death. With age our reflex weaken therefore what is so surprising about it? The picture above was taken from the ledge making the author uncomfortable. 


My view is that there shouldn't be any geometric shape in particular the box like construction. Hills have irregular feature therefore house should have curves melding with that milieu.... The unsafe and obnoxious outer passage along the length of the house should be done away with. 


  

A Rare Photograph

A Rare Picture sent by Pankaj......... Recognize all you can!


S/Shri  1. Satya Prakash 2. Kali Prasad 3. Damodar Prasad 4. Swayambar Dutt 5. Raja Ram 6. Girish Chandra 7. Anandkar(?) 8. ? 9. Hari Prasad 10. Budhi Ram 11. Manyawar Diwakar 12. Prabhakar 13. Rabindra Nath 14. ? P 15. Brajesh(?) 16 Shubhakar 17. ? 18. Sudhakar 19. Shambhu Prasad 20. Urmila  21. ? 22. Taiji No 1(?) 23. Taiji No2(?) 24. Bhabhiji No 1 25. Chachi ji (Sarla Devi)   26. ? 27. Narayan Dutt 29. ? 

A Nostalgic Visit To Badolgaon

O jaane wale ho sake to laut ke

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Chronicle of Badolgaon Caullas IV: The Final Act

[This part is tricky; you need to shed your two plus two is four world view. Dynamics of our thinking is very complex therefore simplistic inference doesn’t work. Emotional dilemma is lot more weighty to deal with than physical one. Why do you think some class 10 students commit suicide? Think about it…………]

Durga Dutt Caullla had now veered to firmly reject appeasement theory. He still believed in God but not in the conventional way. God became fudgy concept to him, not quite interfering in mundane lives of creatures but some entity responsible for the affairs of universe. The play of nature was not act of God but random occurrence played out by physical forces. He firmly decided not to have anything to do with the repugnant annual ritual of human sacrifice. The very concept seemed revolting to any sane person’s sensibility. He realized his voice of reason will not make any dent on zombie like stance of villagers rather he will be branded a coward, a renegade. The only way out, he realized, was to relocate.

So be it, he decided. Gathered his flock and set out to make a fresh beginning. It wasn’t easy; he had to deal with revolt within the clan as well as assaults from outside. But he kept his resolve despite ignominy, insults and name calling at every halt on the way. Eventually benign but very tough and inhospitable Badolgaon provided shelter to his clan.. ….

Durga Dutt Caulla’s example was later followed by several others, migrating away from Sumari leading to eventual dismantling of human sacrifice ritual. He was a visionary, a man ages ahead of his time……..

We are children of this amazing individual. Take pride fellows!


Concluded

A Tree Per Family…..

The fellow with broken arm and many teeth missing is apparently some sort of a demi-village official. He casually mentioned that every family is entitled to fell a Pine tree for the purpose of construction of a house. He said you can pick a tree and he will sanction its felling, even suggested choose a hefty one as if you will not know! I have serious doubt at the veracity of his claim. Although there is rationale for such a scheme approved by the government, after all villagers by their proximity to forest hold first right to its wealth, there will be several ifs and buts in any such scheme inviting official approval therefore payment of bribes.  

When discussed with Manyawar Diwakar, he was skeptical about the scheme. He said perhaps there is such a scheme but he hasn’t seen anyone felling a tree. The Government – public interface in India is notorious for engendering corruption so Manyawar Diwakar is possibly right. So everyone out there having a family and plan to build a house can fell a pine tree but only on paper. Pay no attention to this demi-village official who might pompously approve felling of a tree but may as well open door to prison else be ready with a hefty bribe…….        

Chronicle of Badolgaon Caullas III

A hushed silence, a debilitating shock and then burst of activity! The man was quickly overpowered…..The jittery villagers then vent their ire by lynching him right there at the temple. The body was placed at the temple portal and entire village beseeching Goddess Her forgiveness. While an entire clan was wiped out, a sense of unimaginable doom pervading the multitude hung in balance. An eerie feel and an ominous wait for the malevolent juggernaut to trample their lives swept the villagers. The wait lasted for a long time……..

         Nothing of the sort happened; on the contrary happier times came back to village. The cycle of destruction was held back, a gradual return to happier days seemed to be in offing. The rationalization that Goddess was indeed appeased was natural corollary of the shift in their fate. Old days came back, smile returned to villagers of Sumari but all this at a price. The fear always lurked at the back of their mind, the peace was fragile and temper of Goddess mercurial. The folks would go to temple not to seek solace, transcendental peace but to register their utter submission.

         The inevitable happened, the truce with Goddess shattered, cycle of violence returned just after two years. Fed up with the deprivation and constant shadow of mayhem, Govind Madhav Caulla, a bull headed maverick, a young man of intense temperament and obstinate purpose offered himself to deity. All hell broke;, Gavind madhav Kala, an ancestor several generations removed of Kedar Dutt Caulla, was initially not taken seriously but the adamant fellow would not budge.  You do it with ‘vidhi vidhaan’  else I would chop my head at Devi’s idol on my own was his refrain. In the end resistance proved bogus; the fear had taken toll of villager’s common sense. An elaborate ritual began, a proper day to appease the Goddess chosen, macabre act culminated in gore and crimson on Kartik Purnima. The rest as you can guess is history. Peace returned to village and a macabre ritual that turned the villagers into tribals came into force……..    

Final act to follow.......

Sighting of 'Baagh' in Badolgaon

Some blokes sitting near the panchayat ghar in the dying evening and indulging in idle gossip casually talked about seeing 'Baagh' (Tiger) in the vicinity of village. Now Baagh is pretty rare these days, crores are spent on counting them and keeping them alive in reserve forests. I have serious doubt if a tiger is loose on the neighborhood. For one thing a tiger carries a bounty for poachers so sighting would most certainly attract them besides any sighting would also alert the forest officials. And secondly a terrified villager even though knowing the difference between a tiger and a leopard, may identify a leopard to be a tiger. Leopards are a lot more adaptive and deceptive to its environment therefore have survived in larger number. The village folks might have seen a leopard.....Although  'Reech' (bear) is quite another beast one can see while one cannot dismiss menace of boars in the village. Now to cultivate in a village you need to fence the field. This is too much work so nobody cultivates....Malya is an exception. With plentiful water cascading down hill I went round the village and saw barricaded field growing 'mungri' ( corn). Atop charak ki daaNd 'kaa phal' tree were also abloom but there was no time to climb up the hill... 


The gullibility of villagers is amazing. You have to be there to note conviction in their assertion while drawing smoke from hookah and exhaling thick dark cloud in air.......   

Chronicle of Badolgaon Caullas II

Then a period of misfortune befell Sumari. First small pox took toll of a quarter of its population and then landslides, floods …… The cycle of destruction was relentless, seemingly having a purpose. The immediately reflex response of village folks was ire of Gods! But what incensed Gods, a scapegoat was to be searched, a fall guy was to be found. Various theories were put forward, a fault in Puja procedure, vitiated material used in Puja, the priest was drunk on one occasion, gambling in temple.. blah blah. The linear thinking of villagers had no room for more mundane reasons responsible for the mayhem wrought on Sumari……

So a learned elder eventually proposed appeasing Ma Kali with grand Puja and sacrifice of buffalo. Accordingly a grand Puja was organized after seven days of reciting holy mantras the robust buffalo was sacrificed. As luck would have it, rains were already over, a milder season in offing; things began to settle down in Sumari.  The relative calm was attributed to successful appeasement of Gods. The temple supposed to give solace to strung souls, provide spiritual calm instead became a place to be feared. Villagers took extra care to light the ‘diya’ with clockwork regularity, the purest material used for puja etc. The settled calm in Sumari lasted but only six months next summer was as bad as the last.  Another Puja and a sacrifice of buffalo made no impact. Villagers suffered through the summer and the rain and again calm restored in the month of Kartik. Next year was no exception in fact village suffered a more intense violence of nature. A young man, who lost his entire family when his house submerged in mudslide, unable to control his frustration went to the temple in a state of frenzy and beat the idol with his chappal. He was quickly over powered ……..

Will be concluded... 

Chronicle of Badolgaon Caullas

Not Deserting Rats, Pioneers: This is how it all began….

Sumari – 1876 (A Fictionalized Account)

Durga Dutt Caulla was a worried man. Although his eldest son survived the draw of lots when providence struck in most bizarre way; Nityanand suffered debilitating fall from daand at Kali Temple, lost one leg so became ineligible for the lots. His close friend Shanti Bhushan Bahuguna was not so lucky. In a few days, young dashing and amiable Narayan Bahuguna will be history. Narayan who had always been the good samaritan, go getter and in the forefront of social life of village will be obliterated. From tomorrow bizarre rituals will begin gradually gathering tempo both in riotous color and cacophonous din, reaching climax on kartik full moon when Narayan will have his head sheared at the altar of the village deity. Durga Dutt has been asking the same question over and over again in his mind yet couldn’t verbalize it. Why this waste? Are we really worshipping God? Why do Gods want to be appeased?. Why do they get angry at failing of mortals? If Gods are to be appeased in the same way a Satan wants to be appeased then where is the difference? If Gods are to be appeased, worshipped and generally kept in good humor then don’t they contradict the very meaning of God! It occurred to him there appears a role reversal, humans seem to be acting as Gods and Gods susceptible to Maya, Moh and false ego.

People generally had an idea when this tradition took root and how the process was fine tuned. Sumari was a prosperous village amid all round deprivation. The apparent rationale for this perennial prosperity was attributed to the grace of village deity residing in an ancient temple at the edge of village, atop high summit. Ma Kali had her unshakable resting place at the ancient temple at the summit of high mountain. A fiery image evoking fear more than awe; village folks groveled at her feet in utter submission. This was their natural reflex reaction buttressed by clearly visible signs of good life in the village amid desperation outside it. Quite obviously people are edgy about good fortune as the fear lurks always at the back of their mind. People trust status quo and are willing to submit to bizarre demands of conventions to maintain it. The constant weighing of cost-benefit clearly tips in favor of tradition; the price is too small for assumed assured prosperity.  

Then a period of misfortune befell Sumari. …


To be concluded 

Kul Devta & Gram Devta

Each household in Badolgaon has a 'Kul Devta' even if He is Narshing Dev, He is a different Narshing Dev for each household with a different symbol for worship. Manyawar Diwakar was telling this story... Once Gunanand Kala ( Luckhnow wale) conveyed his desire to perform elaborate puja of Kul Devta so inquired if it is OK with him to perform Puja from his house in Kotdwar. Manyawar Diwakar sent a missive conveying his willingness to offer his hospitality to perform puja from his place but told them that the Staff he has in his house belongs to our 'Kul Devta' i.e Kedar Dutt Kala Household, Their Kul Devta is different. The Puja did not take place....


Gram Devta is common to all villagers. Our Gram Devta is Siddh Baba, as featured in the story of  'saids'........... There is a tree behind cluster of houses which is worshiped in glory of Siddh Baba.   




( Please comment if the description has flaw)

The Shivling And Strange Dream

Back in old days we had a 'shivling' at our house in daaNd. This precious Shivling was worshiped by Pt. Kedar Dutt Kala, arguably one of the three top experts of his time in entire Garhwal in ritualistic Puja. The aura and emotional appeal associated with this 'Shivling' for those who had lived in the house is beyond description. This Shivling is now installed in a temple in Mandai. You have to see to believe the powerful appeal of this shivling, how Manyawar Hari Prasad Kala was moved when he visited the temple two years back. 


With passage of time one by one, everyone moved away from the house save for taiji, Manyawar Diwakar and his family. Eventually they also moved away due to demand of time so the house fell in disuse. As time elapsed and folks got busy in their humdrum lives taiji had a strange dream. She saw Shivling in dream complaining bitterly 'You have left me untended. Water from rains washed me down to gadan and now I am lying neglected there. She saw precise location of Shivling in the dream. When she narrated the dream to Manawar Diwakar, they rushed to village and bingo" they found 'Shivling' buried in earth at the very spot where taiji saw It in dream. Quickly it was installed in Mandai temple...It is still there, worshiped by village folks of Mandai... 

It Burned For Three Days.....

The house at daand was abandoned in nineties for everyone had priorities elsewhere. The sole benefactor who was responsible for its upkeep until now and who had meticulously performed periodic rituals of relics lying there, the shaft of 'Kul Devata', Manyawar Diwakar roamed Garhwal in connection of his job while his family moved to Kotdwar to access better facilities, educational and otherwise for themselves and more importantly for children. No one lived in the house during this period on permanent basis, the house was at the mercy of elements with priceless books and manuscripts tucked away in its remote recesses... Despite his busy schedule and great demand on his time, Manyawar Diwakar would still make occasional calls at this historic dwelling to see if things were OK and make the necessary repairs etc.   


It was during this period, the appalling callousness of our own villagers came to light. The house burned for three days with laud crackling of wood boards, spewing bellowing smoke and flames leaping off like breath of an incensed dragon, seen miles through the valley but the villagers went about their business, which actually was no business just the idle gossip, immune to destruction of priceless wealth. Someone from adjacent village eventually informed Manyawar Diwakar after three days the house was afire and reduced to ashes. He rushed to village but alas in three days everything that could burn had reduced to ashes and the structure crumbled all over........A crestfallen Manyaver sat there amid the smoldering ruins 


When asked, the villagers replied shamelessly they did not see it burning...


You may call this callousness, I would say it was sadistic glee. Possibly they drove vicarious pleasure after setting it afire, drawing smoke from their smoldering hookah,  keeping their back all the time to the house and feeling no sin at all. 


Now I  know why I feel edgy standing at those ruins..

A View From Malya

You wouldn't believe how shaky the original video was. When I uploaded the video, google sensed the flaw and offered to rectify it. I accepted and the result is astounding. You see the video as if camera is on a tripod and moving in rock steady motion......

Locating Badolgaon

We all have this irresistible desire to know our roots, where we came from, how our ancestors looked like and how they ran their lives. We would like to screen the better aspects of their lives and purge the negatives to bask in reflected glory. As the flag line suggests we have indeed some past to be proud of chiefly because of an individual Pt Kedar Dutt kala, an acknowledged specialist in religious rituals ( Some say one of the only three very best of his time). So we begin our journey by locating tiny hamlet on on world map. It is not easy to locate a village on satellite image which has number of house you can count on your finger tips. Besides images of sparsely populated areas are on low resolution as compared to area of towns. So How did I locate Badolgaon on satellite image (Google Earth)? I began by mapping my journey from Kotdwara to Badolgaon on my GPS phone. Here are the screen shots..   




This is picture of full route from Kotdwara to Badolgaon. We began tracing route from 'Manyawar' Diwakar Kala's residence positioned at the lower end of map where legend Kotdwara can be seen. At midway you can see Duggada mentioned as well........  


(Tid Bit: श्री दिवाकर काला का फ़ोन ख़राब चल रहा था. जनाब ने बीएसएनएल को फ़ोन किया...
'मान्यवर' मेरा फ़ोन कई दिनों से खराब है, कृपया  उसे सुधार ने का कष्ट करें! )  Therefore the sobriquet 'Manyawar'.

From Duggada, which means confluence of two rivers, used to be an important distribution center in earlier times we go north to Hanumanti, Matiyali and on to a high Kandakhal having pleasant cool climate. MAtiyali has an old Inter College where some of the Chacha/Tau had education)

















   






Kandakhal is not quite shown in this map but it is a short way from left end of route shown in the image........Sharp hairpin affords breathtaking view of valley.






















You see a small hair pin in the middle of map, that is Kandakhal, a steep descent from there takes us to Paukhal which is at the end of appendix like protrusion ( a smudged extension visible on the map). Paukhal is end of metaled road for us although the road keeps going on to Hrishikesh, you take a jeep from here to Badolgaon, the road is actually a river bed called 'gadan' in local language.........  


















This entire route is covered by jeep. At the end of which is Village clusters. Malya, Mandai, Bijnor and of course Badolgaon.....






















You can see the dry river bed traced by jeep on satellite image...


























A Clearer and enlarged picture of valley. The lone spot is village temple.




















A more definitive image clearly showing the temple. The dwelling where route in smudged is Pannchayat Ghar, where most of the action took place.

Village Panoramic

Village Details