u/raptorswold

Hello peeps, back with another story from West Bengal.

This is a strange strange story that I had the opportunity to collect from an elderly person in our ancestral village. The story is from rural West Bengal, India.

The village falls under Burdwan district(name of a district). Even today, with concrete roads and 24x7 electricity, there are areas within the village that gives an eerie feeling.

This is a story dating back to 1990s. Electricity was a luxury and the village was stuck in mid 1900s it seemed.

In the area where my ancestral house is located, just few yards from there, a woman (she was 60s at that time) used to live alone. She used to work as a maid and used to survive on her own meagre source.

On one such evening, when I had happened to visit her house with my cousin, I remember her asking us to sit and gave us narkel naru (coconut candy) to eat. There was one thing that she told us, pretty clear that I remember her words.

When we asked her, how she copes with loneliness, she told us about a house lizard that used to stay in her room. The lizard apparently, was able to communicate with her in a human voice and that’s how she could talk and live. When my cousin smirked and said, that she was trying to fool us, she called the name of the lizard in the almost dark evening, a clear sound of lizard’s clicking reached our ears. The lizard apparently made its presence felt.

She smirked and told the name of the lizard which to be honest I don’t remember. She told us that the lizard used to go out, look at the surroundings of what people did during the day and then used to chat with her at night.

We left and I never returned back to her house. Currently, the house stands demolished and a proper concrete two story house stands. Someone else bought it after she left for heaven.

Again, this might be nothing. She might have been schizophrenic. She might have been joking with us. But the truth in her eyes told she was not. She had little reason to joke around at the age of 60 plus.

Whatever it might have been, thought of sharing this. This might be nothing, this might be something unexplained and paranormal.

Hello peeps, back with another story from West Bengal.

This is a strange strange story that I had the opportunity to collect from an elderly person in our ancestral village. The story is from rural West Bengal, India.

The village falls under Burdwan district(name of a district). Even today, with concrete roads and 24x7 electricity, there are areas within the village that gives an eerie feeling.

This is a story dating back to 1990s. Electricity was a luxury and the village was stuck in mid 1900s it seemed.

In the area where my ancestral house is located, just few yards from there, a woman (she was 60s at that time) used to live alone. She used to work as a maid and used to survive on her own meagre source.

On one such evening, when I had happened to visit her house with my cousin, I remember her asking us to sit and gave us narkel naru (coconut candy) to eat. There was one thing that she told us, pretty clear that I remember her words.

When we asked her, how she copes with loneliness, she told us about a house lizard that used to stay in her room. The lizard apparently, was able to communicate with her in a human voice and that’s how she could talk and live. When my cousin smirked and said, that she was trying to fool us, she called the name of the lizard in the almost dark evening, a clear sound of lizard’s clicking reached our ears. The lizard apparently made its presence felt.

She smirked and told the name of the lizard which to be honest I don’t remember. She told us that the lizard used to go out, look at the surroundings of what people did during the day and then used to chat with her at night.

We left and I never returned back to her house. Currently, the house stands demolished and a proper concrete two story house stands. Someone else bought it after she left for heaven.

Again, this might be nothing. She might have been schizophrenic. She might have been joking with us. But the truth in her eyes told she was not. She had little reason to joke around at the age of 60 plus.

Whatever it might have been, thought of sharing this. This might be nothing, this might be something unexplained and paranormal.

Back with ghost tales from Bengal.

This story was personally told to us by my friend’s uncle. He used to work for Indian railways.

The story is from a small place where I grew up called English Bazar. The story goes back to 1960s when his uncle was barely 10 or 11.

Their family used to stay in a small house near a large barren land which was part of Malda College. So their house was kind of second last before a long stretch of barren lands and after that it was the railway line connecting Calcutta (now Kolkata) with North Bengal.

Every night bullock carts will use the short cut across this barren land to carry farm products to markets using this as a shortcut. So it was a daily routine and the carts used to pass around 3-4AM in the morning. The sound of the bullock carts were a natural alarm for our protagonist. He used to go fishing in the morning in the pond which was like 30 yards away.

One day, he took his lantern to catch fishes in the pond. It was winter and dawn was hours away. He was all alone to catch fishes in the pond. He first noticed a black cat come one the other side of the pond watching him. Cats are very common and he knew that she must have come to feast on fishes he will catch. At first he didn’t pay attention. Then he started to notice that the cat was slowly coming towards his catch. At first, he threw one small fish at her. She didn’t respond. He used his fishing rod to shoo her away. But it didn’t cause any change in her behaviour. Now when the cat was near, he just threw a random kick onto her.

The cat was hollow. The kick went through her and the cat looked at him smiling. He threw everything and ran away from the place. He was down with fever for 3 days after that.

He still swears by it.

The story was told to me years ago by a man who is now in his seventies.

It begins in 1972 just after Bangladesh gained independence. During the 1971 war, a Bengali intellectual’s family living on the outskirts of Dhaka was massacred when the Pakistani Army and its local militia attacked their neighborhood. He was only 23 and studying abroad at the time.

When he returned, his entire colony had become a killing ground. Inside his fifty year old ancestral home, the smell of dried blood still lingered. The walls bore stains. Every room carried signs of violence.

He restored the house and moved back in. A few months later, strange things began.

Almost every night, he heard heavy military boots climbing the stairs, ending with the sound of a door being kicked open. Then came muffled voices in Urdu, women crying and pleading in Bengali, and at times the sound of an old military jeep stopping outside the house.

He lived with it for months before breaking down. In the end, he sold the house and left for India, never to return.