The Ghost Rickshaw Puller

The Grand Trunk Express reached Gwalior well passed midnight two thirty five AM to be precise. The platform was totally deserted except for a a few army men joining their unit after leave. Gwalior was a dangerous place in the eighties with stories of Phoolan Devi and other Chambal dacoits. I had been warned not to take any public transport at this late hour. The plan was to get a few hours sleep in the waiting room and then head out to the Officers Mess by day. I was travelling light thanks to my instructor at Yelahanka who had organised a training cross country flight just to drop my luggage to my new squadron. The waiting room was filthy with garbage on the floor. Men, women and children were jostling for space with stray dogs and goats. I felt nauseated and moved on. I found a vacant bench on the platform and decided to spend the remain hours there. I was cursing my luck and was just dozing off. I was woken up by a gentle tap on my shoulder and a whisper, 'Saabji rickshaw'. I opened my eyes to see dark skinny boy. He kept repeating  'Saabji rickshaw'. His face was pleasant with bright eyes. He added Residency or Pinto Park. This was too much the guy had actually guessed my destination!  I just blurted Residency. I forgot all the warnings about travel on the desolate road. This guy appeared genuine. Or was I too gullible to fall for trap skilfully laid by this charming youngster. After the customary haggling I sat comfortably on the cycle rickshaw. The lad was humming a unfamiliar tune. The pleasant night air was having a hypnotic effect on me.The road from the station to the Residency was totally desolate and pitch dark with no traffic at this unearthly hour. As we passed LNCPE the boy asked me in Hindi, 'Are you afraid of the dark.' I replied no never. The boy questioned me, 'If you are not afraid then why did you plan to stay the night in the station?' The boy stopped the rickshaw and started walking into the undergrowth. I kept my vigil on the rickshaw seat. He continued his quite hum into the distance and then total silence. I waited in the dark. That's when the sounds of the silence hit me. The distant call of a forest owl. Intermittent bark of village dogs. The ghostly howls from a pack of jackals . I was lost in these sounds.  Worry and fear crossed my heart but I quickly dismissed them as unwarranted. I never noticed the cunning boy silently return to his post. This intrusion jerked my body and a tingling fear down my spine. He resumed his hum and rhythmic pedaling. Suddenly he questioned, 'Have you ever seen a Ghost?' The direction of the dialog was getting bit out of my comfort zone but I was just a passive participant. No I haven't seen one only heard stories.The boy continued, 'Even when you see one do you think you will recognise it?' I am not sure I mumbled. He continued, a sure way is to notice the legs. The feet and toes may  point backwards. I kept silent. Once in a way I did steal a glance at his leg. Was it the dark night or the boys quite hum or my own fears. I noticed the legs again they appeared pointing back. I followed the motion of the legs keenly. Where reality and dream merge is a narrow no man's land. I was now stuck in that twilight zone. I was having difficulty in separating dream from truth. The boys voice boomed in the silent darkness. 'Sirji why are you staring at my feet they are normal only.' He started a cunning laugh. I could not reply. We had now reached the Mela grounds which is totally desolate except for some gypsy families and their dogs which howled at the disturbance. There was no escape. I did catch myself looking at his legs many times they appeared normal.
We moved slowly on the dark road neither spoke for a long time. A silent prayer crossed my heart. The boy startled me again. ' What is the use of prayer?' I had no answer. Luckily for me we were now near the famous Madhav Rao Institute of Science and Technology. so some lights near the gate. The route was uneventful and the boy continued his quite hum and I in my thoughts. Gole Ka Mandir and the a short back breaking stretch to the Residency Mess. The sight of the Air Force gate and DSC jawan brought new confidence into my system. I got down and showed my ID Card a smart salute and he waved me in. The guard explained to the rickshaw puller to return by the same route after dropping me.
I got dropped off near my room which was behind the main block next to the kitchen. I had just settled down to sleep off the few hours left when l heard a commotion outside. I stepped out to check . It was the DSC guard he had been joined in by two other guards and a few mess staff. They were talking in loud voices. Where is the rickshaw boy. I told them that I had paid him off and had seen him moving to wards the main gate. The DSC guards were disturbed. The boy is missing he has not left. I joined in and started a search. Residency mess is a vast area covered with thick forest, however, there was only one main gate and high walls. The searched continued till day break. There was no trace of either the cycle rickshaw or the boy. I didn't dare to tell my fellow searchers about my own experiences of that night.