The Chandal

In the middle of a cremation ground in a small village of Uttar Pradesh stands a small hut of a ‘chandal’, a person who deals with the dead bodies of animals and the persons with no relatives. There is a black mark on the hut to inform the villagers about his residence. The chandal is considered a master occultist. The villagers visit him whenever they feel that the problems they are facing deal with the world of ghosts. Many a time, he has protected the village from evils and teething troubles without uttering a word. Nobody has ever seen him speak, but a few of the villagers say that they have seen him talking with the supernatural forces in night. His life has no external aims- only the obsession with his own thoughts is apparent. Everything is normal in his life, but one night an unexpectedly strange thing happens, something that is beyond normal experience or scientific explanation.

The dark clouds in the sky are preventing the light of the unknown universe from reaching the eyes of mortal beings. The cool wind is swiftly blowing, giving villagers a temporary, physical pleasure after a hot and humid day. The great banyan tree near the cremation ground seems to celebrate its 150^th birthday by waving its branches to and fro. One can see the dark, billowing smoke from the hearths in the small houses. There is an unknown visitor to the chandal today. The visitor is a man in his thirties, with a long, saffron ‘tilak’ on his forehead. The visitor has the same purpose as everyone who visits the chandal- something that deals with the supernatural.

“Baba, I have been sick for two years now. I have visited almost all the doctors in the city, but no one could cure me. Someone told me about you, so you are my hope now,” says the man with a depressing expression on his face.

The chandal doesn’t say anything but nods. He looks at him in a strange way and then looks at the sky as if he is communicating with the gods. He smiles and then motions him to stay at his place for today because of the sudden downpour that has made it practically impossible to go out.

In the middle of the night, the chandal is woken up by a strange noise coming from a few meters away from his hut. He comes out to know the origin of the disturbance. What he sees there makes him freeze and astonished. He realizes that his legs are no longer in control of his brain. To his surprise, his own body was lying a few meters away from him, and the same man was digging the ground with a spade. A minute later, the man holds the body by its hair and starts pulling it towards the pit. It is the corpse of the alive chandal. Suddenly, the corpse opens its eyes and looks into the eyes of the chandal. The chandal, standing on the door, realizes something and smiles for a while. He can smell the danger. There is someone else as well who is witnessing the horrific incident. A small boy of 10 is standing just behind the great banyan tree, sweating.

  THE NEXT MORNING

The rainfall in the night has made the morning humid today. A few of the villagers are gossiping about something.

“You know, a new chandal has arrived in our village today,” informs a villager, “He has a long, saffron tilak on his forehead. Also, he says that the old chandal has gone to some other village.”

“Hmm…it’s a piece of sad news for all of us. Strange things are happening today. Ramcharan was telling me that his small son is unable to speak anything since morning, He’s been trying to say something for two hours,” says another village, without realizing the close proximity of the danger to him.

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