Twilight had set in. I was walking alone. The first hill was not really that high, but since it was covered with rocks of various sizes the going was rather slow. In that mountainous region at that time the sole human being was myself.

Besides the scamper of a couple of hill rabbits and the chirping of crickets I could not detect any signs of life. Beyond this hill was another one – one that was comparatively high. In times of rain a stream flows down flooding one portion of the valley between the two hills. That is, it creates a small lake. The other portion of the valley is relatively high, though it does not have particularly much foliage. Despite not making for so comfortable a stroll, the area is not bad. I was walking towards the valley. Suddenly I saw that I was not alone. Another gentleman had walked up beside me. Turning to look, I saw my childhood friend Paresh. I said, “Hey Paresh, where did you come from?” He said, “I was just sitting here alone. Seeing you after such a long time, I thought let’s both walk together.”

I said, “Then come on, let’s go. In the middle of the valley there’s that overgrown tamarind tree – we’ll sit under it.”

Paresh said, “No, don’t go over there. The air under a tamarind tree isn’t good.”

After listening to what he said, before I could think about anything else I remembered something I had heard some days ago. Hadn’t Paresh gotten a stomach disease, and within just a few hours died? The doctors were not even able to diagnose the disease. So I said to Paresh, “Really, what a ghastly sort of thing rumours are! I’d heard some days ago you were no longer alive.”

Suddenly I felt a strong gust of wind. I put my hand on Paresh’s shoulder – but where had he gone! I started shivering.

I went onward towards the tamarind tree. During the day many people come to picnic under the tree. There’s water quite nearby, and the place is uninhabited. It is fun to come here in a group, raise a clamour and leave. Seeing the branches and shál-leaves⁽¹⁾ scattered about I realized that in the afternoon that day also there had been picnickers. At the base of the tree I saw a medium-sized stone on which vermilion had been applied in various places.⁽²⁾ I sat on that very stone. Suddenly an owl started to hoot from the treetop.

I knew quite well that no one was around in this area. Nevertheless I started to feel as though someone was present. Suddenly I realized that standing before me was an indistinct shadowy figure. He seemed to be saying, “Don’t sit there!” I looked in another direction. The shadowy figure came around in that direction too. This time he said in an aggrieved, pleading voice, “You’ve got so much room. I have only this little spot. Please, get up and go.”

I went and sat about fifteen yards away from the tree. Afterwards for nearly twenty days at a stretch I would go and sit in that same spot. But on no other day did I see that shadowy figure. Perhaps since I never forcibly occupied that vermilion-smeared stone, he did not find it necessary to come before me.

It was twenty days later. I was sitting alone facing the tamarind tree. The time was nearly ten at night. Suddenly I noticed that someone wearing Western clothes was climbing down the large hill. I was rather astonished to see someone climbing down the hill at night like that. I thought, perhaps some English gentleman had gone hunting in the jungle. At that time the English were ruling. Local people did not really wear Western clothes much, or if they did, would wear them only to work. Hence, naturally I assumed the fellow coming was English. He was slowly coming towards me. The situation struck me as a little peculiar.

I saw there was no gun in the gentleman’s hand; that is, he had definitely not gone hunting. When he had come about ten feet away I asked him in English and Hindi, “What do you want? Have you fallen into some difficulty?”

The man replied to me in perfect Bengali: “I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time, but the right opportunity hadn’t arisen. Today that opportunity has come.”

The man gave me his namaskára and said, “There are a few things I’d like to know about. I’m hoping you’ll be able to give me the right answers.” He posed a few questions to me. Whatever little I knew I told him. He said, “I have an earnest request: please don’t tell anyone else about these questions of mine.”

I said, “Consider that done, but tell me, who are you? Where are you from?”

He replied, “My name is Shyamalendu Lahiri. My home – Jalpaiguri.”

I asked the man to sit down beside me. Suddenly there was a rustling in the tamarind tree’s leaves and a gust of wind. The owl made its presence felt with a hoot, but the gentleman was nowhere to be seen. By then it was quite late. Without further delay I made my way home.

[Author’s explanation:] Saḿskáraja ávesha [Literally, “Self-hypnotism arising from reactive momenta (saḿskára)”]

Footnotes

(1) Used as plates. –Trans.

(2) In India certain natural objects sometimes selected as symbols of a deity are smeared with vermilion in worship. –Trans.