‘Ka Phal Paako’…..

I spent two nights in Badolgaon and both nights sleeping on the terrace of Panchayat Ghar, a very ordinary small single storey two room dwelling. The moon was bright, come up early in the evening and by the time we went to sleep at was at the zenith casting a pall of dull silvery tinge on everything. The sky was bare not a trace of cloud, azure during the day and grey at night with bright moon obscuring stars. The warm day temperature had relented in the evening, light breeze making it exceedingly pleasant. The only thing that marred the evening was presence of pesky mosquitoes but we had a tube of Odomos to tackle that menace……..

Early in the evening I had egged the villagers to narrate ghost stories which they obliged gleefully and related the story of ‘saids hijacking a little boy’. These folks have a way telling story with much conviction so that the fear grows in your psyche; staying in background during the day and taking a malevolent life as soon as the world goes to sleep. So I was primed for the night with heightened sense of fear. As a precaution I asked for a flashlight kept near me should I require to go to toilet during the night.   There is an old mango tree with a thick canopy next to panchayat ghar. We slept on the floor our heads pointing towards this mango tree. After brief small talk the men began to snore, I couldn’t. Soon an eerie wail of bird, subdued but very distinct and regular at brief intervals began to dissolve in pristine night ‘fizaa’. There was something very sad about tone of bird’s call it reminded me of Kalidas’ Meghdootam, the hapless ‘aashiq’ pouring his agony on to the cloud messenger. Eventually I dozed off only to awake late in the night. The moon had either set or was completely hidden behind Chandakhal summit. The sky was dark, alive with dazzling array of stars. There were so many of them as if a large round tray laden with priceless glittering jewels. The bird’s wail, a little less frequent but still haunting the ‘fizaa’  ….

I summoned enough courage and looked around carefully hoping to see ‘baraat of saids’ floating past gadan quietly but nothing, absolutely nothing in the landscape to suggest paranormal activity. Then I collected the flash light and tried to flip it on but there no such button, I fumbled all over but the damned thing had no on/off switch. So I unscrewed its cap and bingo it flashed… Went down to the toilet, looking back over shoulder, relieved went back to sleep..The pathos of birds wail set a swathe of melancholy in surrounding fizaa……

I was told next day that bird is called ‘Ka phal paako’ because its wail sounds like singing ‘ka phal pakoo’