The Sinister Task Mrityunjay Mohan Borah | Mechanical | B.Tech. 4
In movies, creepy ghosts, dirty zombies and seductive witches run after your life in the dark, in loneliness and in eerie haunted houses. Being afraid of the same, I kept my lights on even while sleeping. I also used my refined engineering and mathematical skills to align my bed in such a way that I was at the closest distance from the door, always. Yes, from the introduction this seems like a funny story, a story of sarcasm, of underlying humour and wit. Dear readers, it isn’t one. Even today when I close my eyes, I am haunted by that incident that took place within a month after I joined college. An incident, which neither took place in the abandoned road near the Gajjar Bhavan nor in the still silence of the broken road near the abandoned hostel. It took place right at the heart of the institution, in broad daylight and amongst a lot of people. Few people have encountered this incident. I am one of them, one amongst the unlucky few. It was a usual morning at college. Getting up, mentally preparing for the
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day, basic adequate hygiene practices and then sprinting towards the class for attendance. I was totally unaware that this day would prove to be one of the darkest days of my life; you don’t expect to be in such a scenario when you are with your friends. Similarly, naïve, I was unaware of the underlying dangers around me. It seemed like everyone was delighted and having fun. Then one of my classmates, whom I considered my closest friend, turned his head towards me. He handed me some contents from his clandestine bag. The instructions were clear. I was supposed to deliver the contents and collect a package from a particular place. I had never indulged in these kinds of activities; my friends back in my hometown used to do these summoning activities as a part of the trend but they knew my fears, my insecurities. I can still see my friend’s menacing eyes and his sly grin every time I am at that place. Terrified, I turned to my other batchmates, hoping one of them will go along the ghostly way to save me. I was wronged. They compelled me, saying each one of them had paid their dues and that this was the only way to take possession of
the stuff that will make each one of us happy, satisfied and powerful. I took the first step towards the assigned track. I experienced every single eye shadowing me, even the ones you can’t see in the real world. I felt the chill along my spine. But I had to do this, rejecting this would have consequences far more catastrophic and disastrous in my life, I thought. I might be abandoned for the rest of my life, I might have to suffer a gut-wrenching pain for the rest of the day, ordered by the dark forces. For this reason, I kept going, even with my heart thumping a million beats per minute, even with tears welling up in my eyes and even with the poker-faced demon at the end of the road staring right through my soul. He extended his hairy arms and claws at which point I was supposed to say the magical chants to safeguard myself. I tried but something was grabbing my neck, something powerful; my throat became dry and I was unable to speak. I was going through a mountain of emotions every passing minute. I was just about to collapse from exhaustion when I mustered up whatever energy I had left and directed it towards saying “Bhaiyya teen Mysore Dosa”.
