A Call from Dead Man’s Land-I

The mysterious Envelop


Sales of our magazine has once again hit Record Low, lower than last month. And with every passing month the pressure on reporters like me is increasing many folds to bring a story which is not reported by any magazine till now, which can create a real sensation. With all these thoughts running too frequently within me, seated near the window of the bus trying to find a story in some deep interior parts of Tamil Nadu. It’s was ten days without proper sleep and food my body is showing few signs of breaking down anytime. But thanks to God that its nights and I don feel the hot scorching sun over me. Unlike my Grand father im not a great reporter , running after Cine stars and politicians was my duty till now but now ... I don’t know where exactly im going. The wind was really inviting to close my eyes and I had to give in, I slept off. It’s the loud horn of the passing lorry that woke me up and I had a look through the window and I had no idea of where exactly I was Just then I noticed that there was an old man standing right next to my seat, I removed my bags and made some space for the old man and he sat down with a smile in return. The old man was dressed in the usual traditional style of dhoti and shirt with a cotton bag, some herbs were propping out of it and by his wrinkles in his face he would be more than 80 yrs was my guess. The old man was constantly starring at me and that gave a slight discomfort to me and within few min’s I was not able to tolerate it, so had to clarify with him “Thatha! What are you looking at? Is something wrong?" the old person smiled “NO son you remind me of an old friend of mine, I don’t know where he is now, he was a reporter,” At this note I asked him " So you know my grand father Mr Ramesh Menon! " cos a lot of my relatives have said that I look more like my grand father, and I was happy to meet a friend of his. The old man felt bad when he came to know that my grand father is no more but at his age its not a heart breaking thing as he as seen everything in life. I expressed my hard times at office I didn’t know what made me spill out everything to him but he was a patient listener with a small smile in his face and constantly starring into my face maybe he was searching for his lost friend in me. IN a moment of desperation I said” with my dad was alive to advise me how to do things as a reporter" the old man smiled and said” he could have spoken to you if you had buried in "Sivapuram " " . " What? What do you mean? “I exclaimed. “So you don’t know about that place? its in a remote location your grandfather was working on that story while I met him , the ones buried in that place comes alive to speak to their kin's once every 3 years ". That really made me raise my eye brows I wanted to know more about it but the old person was about to sleep and the time was nearly 1:30 so I thought I will ask him in the morning.

The busy roads of chennai woke me up and I was shocked to see the old person was not there next to me and I ran up to the conductor to enquire where he got down. There it was my next shock waiting for me; he told no such passenger traveled last night. But I was in no dream I don’t doubt my senses he was right there next to me and few of the leaves which he carried are still scattered next to my seat. With much confusion I waved my hand to catch an auto , on reaching my house I dint speak to my wife nor children’s my dad was like usual with his an eye on his paper and other on me sitting in the veranda. I dint care much for anything that day only the things what the old person told me was running in my head. It was too much for me to bear so I decided to explore the store room for grand pa's stuff anything that can be useful for me as it’s the only way I could find out things. Soon I found a big box which grandma cursed before she threw it into the store room she always used to refer that that was the box that took her husbands life. It was a wooden box made of a brass latch which looked like Shiva lingam, I some how managed to open the box and found my grandpa's favorite pen his shirts and few other things and a diary. His handwriting was a big puzzle by itself it was real hard to read it as time had has its effect on it too. There was a sealed envelop without any receivers address, may be he never wanted to post it or didn’t know whom he should send it. Without delaying much time I opened the envelop the letter was dated 15/3/1970. The letter went like this " Dear Francis, Think this will be my last letter to you and im scared we wont be able to publish our story about Sivapuram, The dead ones Don’t like us there and Dwaraki has broke her promise she is against us for stealing her the " Gods Heart" think we should have never been there, and im scared that the whole prophesy will come true soon. I still have the Gods Heart in that secret place please take it from me soon." I went through the diary for any clues about Francis, I dint find any, but I was happy to find the route to sivapuram given in hints .Few more information about Sivapuram was given in the diary, the dead ones were buried vertically and not horizontally cos to them they believe the dead ones are like seeds who come out when its time to meet there loved ones. And Once the Soul of the dead person is no more interested in visiting the earth or has took another birth, a square block of rock was placed over the burial site . I was feeling more tired now both because of the travel and my grand pa's bad hand writing.

I walked out of the room and sat in the hall, right in front of me was my grand fathers pictured hanging with a garland and an electrical lamp lit 24/7. Some thing in the picture caught my attention this time it was the two lines written Born: 23/1/1923 Dead: 15/3/1970. Now I know why that letter was not posted, my grandpa must have died soon after pasting that letter. I have decided to venture into and find out what happens in SIvapuram.



To be continued..............................



Mj