Dating : #3 | Jagar — The ‘paranormal’ evening

The Jagar was organized in the courtyard. Few people, who had arrived so far, looked busy setting up the stage for the ritual. Guru ji, the proclaimed prime priest of the village, was guiding others to ensure things are done methodically and exactly as prescribed in the religious books.

Guru ji identified a good place for dhuni, a sacred spot on the ground similar to havan kund or a spiritual camp fire. It was the center for performing several rituals like yajnas and in this case Jagar.

Guru ji began chanting mantras in Sanskrit as he started establishing the dhuni. He dug a circular pit and then bordered it with bricks. He covered the bricks with cow dung and poured red clay on top. He carefully fixed the copper container at the center and then placed the charcoal and sandalwood sticks to top. He drew multiple white patterns resembling swastika and stars around the dhuni. He established four asanas or low seating areas around the dhuni for all the protagonists participating in the ritual. A separate seating area was kept slightly farther away from the dhuni. The courtyard was covered with carpets and chairs to accommodate the visitors.

The chanting of mantras was infusing a lot of positivity into the environment. The chants were melodious yet powerful. Kabir could feel occasional goosebumps even though he hardly understood the meaning of any of these mantras.

Soon there was a flurry of guests from different parts of the village. The elderly were offered chairs while the younger ones settled themselves on the carpet. Everyone seemed full of belief; they knew that this Jagar will not only bring relief to the family but would also do wonders to the rest of the village.

“Neha” — Ruchi bhabhi screamed, “come let me find you a pichora and a nath.”

“I don’t want others to taunt that twelve years into the marriage, you still don’t understand our culture.” — She continued in a tone that actually sounded more like a taunt.

In Uttarakhand, both pichora and nath are customary for a married woman. They are expected to wear it during all social and religious festivals.

Pichora, a special stole, is draped over the sari covering the head and the upper body. It has saffron base and red dots and swastikas; Red signifies energy while saffron is considered holy and the combination is believed to bring good luck to the women who are wearing it and their families.

Nath is a big traditional nose ring embellished with precious rubies and beads.

“Where’s Dolly bhabhi?” — Neha enquired.

“She can’t attend the Jagar. You see, she has ladies’ problem; it is that time of month for her. You know she shouldn’t touch anyone for these four days; forget about attending any rituals.” — Ruchi bhabhi whispered; shy to speak it aloud; way too shy to say menstrual cycle or periods.

“Can I meet her quickly?” — Neha asked.

“I wouldn’t suggest but make it fast if you really want to. Do ensure that you get gou-mutra sprinkled over you to get you purified. Gods get angry if you come impure to the place of worship.” — Ruchi bhabhi warned Neha with a stern belief on her face.

“Sure” — Neha smiled. She has been a part of the family for twelve years and was used to these traditions. Several times, the gou-mutra or cows’ urine had purified her several times earlier.

“You sit here.” — Guru ji instructed Chacha ji to take an asana next to him which he humbly followed.

Chacha ji was wearing a new dhoti with his upper body bare; covered partly by the Janeu. He looked bright and confident is this ethnic attire. One could clearly sense the pride of being the bearer on his face.

Guru ji completed his first session of chanting and blew the shankha, the divine conch shell, probably to communicate the inauguration of the Jagar. Shankha, used as a trumpet in almost all Hindu rituals, is believed to be the cleanser of sins and brings fame, prosperity, longevity and wealth.

He took Chacha ji’s help to light a fire on the dhuni and resumed chanting of the mantras. During his mantra incantation, he frequently used the basil leaves to sprinkle gou-mutra, kept in a copper vessel, in different directions to purify the entire place including the visitors.

“Mohan, you take that place.” — he instructed Mohan da, the alleged invoker. His seat was kept slightly far from the dhuni and other audiences. Special care was taken to ensure that he doesn’t touch anything. Mohan da wore new clothes and a white safa, a scarf, that was gifted to him for this occasion.

He kept his hudka, an hourglass shaped drum, next to him and quietly waited for the next set of instructions.

“Call them.” — Guru ji commanded amidst the mantra chants and instructed Tau ji and Tai ji to take the other two asanas near the dhuni.

He took out a copper thali, i.e. a plate, and two curved wooden sticks from his bag and placed the thali upside down in front of him. He signaled Mohan da to start the proceedings.

Mohan da started playing the hudka with his hands in a peculiar folk tone. Guru ji joined him; giving him the metallic beats by pounding the curved wooden sticks on the inverted copper thali. Sounds of diverse musical instruments made the environment ecstatic. The resonance amplified the music; the music a bit psychedelic.

“Amazing” — Neha whispered in disbelief. “I under-estimated these instruments. This music is elevating my heartbeats. I wish I could show you the goosebumps on my body.”

“This is just the beginning. Wait and watch there’s much more to come.” — Kabir whispered back.

“Yeah, but it is way better than those stupid nightclubs we visit back in Hyderabad.” — she said smiling.

“You bet. But here, only the protagonists of Jagar are allowed to dance.” — he smiled back.

She saw some elderly capturing the photographs of the event and sharing them with their loved ones on WhatsApp. It was their way of including others who couldn’t make it to the Jagar, owing to their busy schedules, far off in the city. Neha took out her iPhone and started recording the event.

Mohan da started singing a folklore in Kumaoni language to invite Golu devta. He started praising the deeds of Golu devta when he was alive; mentioned how kind yet heroic this avatar of Lord Shiva was. Life during his time was so good and now we stand in front of him with an aspiration that he would solve our problems.

The folklore went on for some time, the music and the vocal went louder and louder. Both Guru ji and Mohan da were doing their duties with full passion and belief. Suddenly there was a slight quivering movement in Chacha ji’s body.

“He is here.” — Guru ji declared and signaled Mohan da to increase the intensity of the hudka. He did the same with his copper plate instrument.

Everyone around got animated, folding their hands and gazing at Chacha ji with admiration.

Chacha ji’s body started to shiver ferociously; body movements didn’t seem natural as if being controlled by an external force. Both his hands joined, fingers crossed, he made cross movements taking his hands from right shoulder to left pelvis to left shoulder to right pelvis and so on. His body seemed to be in pain, yet he had a broad smile on his face. He started dancing joyfully; following the ecstatic rhythm.

“Why did you call me? What do you need from me?” — Chacha ji asked in a loud stammering voice; continuing to dance in the rhythm. He sounded different; he sounded possessed.

“My lord, nothing is hidden from you. You already know it all.” — Guru ji said with his head bowed and hands joined.

“You all are my ardent devotees. You have always kept me happy. I will help you.” — Chacha ji said, turning towards Tai ji.

“How dare you come here?” — Chacha ji shouted angrily looking at Tai ji.

“My lord, what did I do wrong? Please forgive me for my ignorance.” — Tai ji asked in an apologetic tone.

“I am asking you.” — Chacha ji said still looking at Tai ji; much louder this time.

Everyone looked quizzed, trying to understand what is wrong. Suddenly, Tai ji’s body started to shiver, her head revolving around the neck and her long hair covering much of her face. She screamed in a loud shrill voice good enough to scare even the bravest present around.

Kabir looked at Ishaan who appeared terrified. He was tightly holding Neha’s hand.

“Yes you.” — Chacha ji said. “You made a mistake. Big mistake and I won’t spare you for that.”

“You can’t do anything to me” — Tai ji screamed back.

Chacha ji cried in anger and to Neha’s surprise, placed his hand in the dhuni and pulled out a red-hot charcoal and instantly threw it hard on the ground in front of Tai ji. The charcoal was reduced to pieces.

“This won’t scare me.” — Tai ji screamed even louder and started laughing out loud. The laugh seemed unnatural; it surely wasn’t Tai ji’s voice.

Chacha ji went furious, this time he put both hands inside the dhuni and collected a lot of hot ash. He threw the ash in air and made a few circular gestures with his hands. He then held Tai ji by hair and slapped her hard on the face.

“What the fish?” — Neha looked at Kabir questioning how can people let this happen?

He signaled her to stay silent.

Neha who had been pacifying Kabir, so far, seemed to be in need of it herself. She was finding it extremely hard to understand, how torturing a sick person will help her in this situation. She was worried, it looked like it was just the beginning.

Chacha ji picked the metal trident kept beside the dhuni and raised it in a signal to hit her hard.

Neha got animated, as if, ready to interject and defend Tai ji from the metal trident, if the need be.

“Stop” — Tai ji pleaded with fear in her eyes. “I didn’t come here. She came to me.”

“Doesn’t matter.” — Chacha ji said in a stubborn tone, clearly stating that he was not ready for any negotiation.

“Please, I can’t leave her body. It is painful and devastating outside.” — she continued. She seemed to be breaking down.

“Tell me more. I will help you.” — Chacha ji said maintaining his loud tone.

“My name is Deepa. I am from Kaunkhera village, Sona Nandi range in the Corbett Tiger Reserve. I was cutting grass when something hard hit on my neck from behind and dragged me to the forest. Next, I remember was that I was alone in the forest. I ran fast to reach my village realizing that they can’t see or hear me.” — she cried.

“I am trapped, I am lonely and its painful.” — she pleaded.

Neha’s mobile vibrated with the beep sound. It was a WhatsApp message from Prashant stating. “I googled it; the story seems real. Apparently, it was a tiger attack. There were several tiger attacks near Jim Corbett park last year which took away many lives. One such story was covered in newspapers, but the body wasn’t found. Here’s goes the detailed article from Times of India.”

She was tempted to read the article but didn’t want to miss the action either.

“Leave her body.” — Chacha ji commanded. “I will help you get free.”

“No, I won’t. I must go back to my kids, they must be hungry.” — she shouted back.

“Then I will have to burn you and reduce you to ashes.” — Chacha ji signaled her to look at dhuni.

“Please help me. My kids need me.” — she pleaded; pain in her voice clearly sensed.

Chacha ji started to chant mantras ferociously. All parts of his body shook uncontrollably. Tai ji’s body showed similar responses. He held her head tight. The act continued for some time and suddenly Tai ji’s body got calmer.

“She is gone.” — Chacha ji declared. “You are fine now.”

“Thank God.” — Ruchi bhabhi said taking a deep breath. “She seems like a good soul. The wicked spirits don’t leave this early.”

“Take Guru ji’s help and get her death rituals completed.” — Chacha ji instructed Tau ji.

It is a widespread belief that souls can’t leave this world until all the death rituals are completed. This appeared to be one of those cases.

Everyone formed a line to touch Chacha ji’s feet and get blessings from him. He patiently rubbed ash on their foreheads and bestowed his blessings. Additionally, he gave pieces of fruits and coconut to some chosen ones who felt happy to be lucky.

There was a natural glow on Tai ji’s face. Probably early signs of recovery or just an adrenaline pump as an after effect of what just happened. The actual reason was for time to tell.

“Did I just see a ghost? Is Dada ji a God?” — Ishaan questioned. He still looked terrified not leaving his mother’s hand; not even for a second. He couldn’t sum up courage to get the ash rubbed on his fore head from Chacha ji.

“Was this all for real? Will Tai ji be fine now?” — Neha released her set of questions.

“One by one” — Prashant said on their way back.