I should be finishing this assignment tonight.Amitava Da,our Assistant Executive Editor,had given this special assignment to me-To write analytically on Beatle’s music. This was a tag on to my weekly dabble as a Music Critic in our paper ,where I was a Sub Editor.It was already 1.30am.Absolute silence everywhere except the chirping of a cricket outside and occasional hooting of an Owl.I was trying to concentrate on my writing but suddenly I heard a mild sound.Somthing like a woman walking around, outside my room,with her soft rustling of cloth.It’s like when a lady walks wearing a saree-The cloth produces a soft sound when it’s folds rub each other.I was very astonished.Is it Mom?What she was doing,now ?She should be been sleeping.Sensing something unusual,I went to look into the matter.There was nobody in the other rooms.In my Parents room my Mom and Dad were in deep asleep.I thought ,what I heard was my imagination.
Again after a while,I heard something peculiar.As if somebody had opened the Tap of the Bath Tub in the Bathroom.Sounds of water running down and filling the Tub,could be heard . I was totally surprised now.I looked at the Bathroom door,which was partly closed.A shiver ran through my spine.I remembered Hari Singh,on of our Darwan.He told me once-Chota Saab,all is not well here at night.A Mem Shahib in white dress roams around, circling the Bunglow, in full Moonlit nights.Of course , I never believed him.
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It was the regular weekend party cum Ball in Honeypot.I loved it.Anna was not inclined to go.She said she is not feeling well-Got a nasty Headache.I ordered Gangadeen ,my Orderly,to keep my clothes ready.After 5 gruelling working days with native workers,babus and coolies in this Jute mill,weekend parties are of great relief.And then Honeypot is a wonderful Club.I got dressed up which I suppose was best suited for a person like a Burra Sahib,ie,me.I kissed Anna bye and told her to call Doctor Simpson,if required.
Did I forget something?I was about to go down but suddenly I remembered.I went to my Study,opened the drawer of my Writing Bureau and took it out-My favourite=Welby Scott.revolver,just in case?
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I was terror stuck.not able to move .as if my body is paralysed.No sound was coming from my throat.I was not even being able to call Mom and Dad.The goose pimples with shiver were all over my body.and I was sweating like a pig.I could clearly hear somebody enjoying a bath in the Tub.And then ,after a while, as if someone got up from the Tub,with water drops dripping from his/her body,…..was about to come out of the half opened door of the Bathroom.It must be her.I knew it was her-as Hari Singh described.As today I saw a full Moon in the sky. I kept on staring at the Bathroom door,what seemed as ages-But nobody came out.
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The party was in full swing.I was also dancing with lovely ladies.Wine was excellent and so was the food.Abdulla was a geniousl khansama.But I was not in my usual mood.I was disturbed and I was thinking.Then I saw him-NagBahadur,I called him near me.and he whispered in my ear.My head felt like a Boiler,though I remained calm.I reached home within a short time and went up.Gangadeen was there.I could see from his face that he was mortally afraid.I ordered him to fetch Madhukar,the Head Maali of the garden.He simply fled from me.I went ahead and pushed the bedroom door.It was not locked.I clutched my Welby Scott firmly.There they were-Doctor Simpson and Anna .in deep embrace and naked in bed.Anna looked at me.Fear clouded her face.She exclaimed-you?....John?
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After a couple of days ,I asked Nishakar,the Maali of our garden, about a Memsahib in white in a full moon night.He knew it all along.He took me to the Basement of the Bunglow.In torchlight glow, over the floor, I could distinctly identify a rectangular area on it,colour of which was different from the other parts of the floor.It also seemed to be comparatively new,like a patch.Nishakar’s father, Madhukar did it himself,a secret only, he told to his son.This was where,then BurraSahib, John Webber ,buried a couple.