Guruji was revered by one and all in the village for his wisdom and expansive knowledge of the divine. He had helped solve a lot of problems in the village which had previously seemed impossible to resolve, including curing people of mysterious ailments. It was little wonder then that when Shyam felt the presence of a ghost inside of him, his parents decided to seek Guruji’s guidance; their only regret being not seeking his help earlier.

“Since when have you felt the presence of this evil spirit within you?” Guruji asked Shyam in his aged yet soft voice.

Shyam, sitting opposite Guruji, had narrated this tale a dozen times to others. “It was seven nights ago. Mama and papa had gone to sleep but I was wide awake. I was lying on the floor and simply staring out of the window, admiring stars and the night sky when all of a sudden I heard his voice.”

“Did you see him?”

Shyam shook his head and replied enthusiastically, “I did not even realise when or how exactly he found his way inside of me. He must be very wily and cunning.”

Guruji urged him to keep his voice low. “We do not want the devil to hear us. Right. What did he do next?”

“Like I said, I began to hear him suddenly,” Shyam was whispering now. His parents, sitting next to him, had to lean in to hear what he had to say. “He wasn’t speaking a word. He was simply whistling. That’s all that he has been doing. Sometimes he gets tired and goes to sleep and I don’t hear him then. But sometimes, especially at night, he comes to life and haunts me.”

“Is he whistling now?”

Shyam shook his head again.

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me,” Guruji said.

“Why?” Bhola, who was standing behind Shyam and observing everything quietly, enquired with a genuine curiousity.

“Hush now! Don’t question Guruji,” Shyam’s father intervened. “You’re too young.”

“Forgive him, Guruji,” Shyam’s mother pleaded. “He is just a child. He is Shyam’s best friend. He is just a child, you know.”

Guruji looked at Bhola and offered him a warm smile but Bhola was upset that his question was not answered. He thought he was not being unreasonable or disrespectful.

Shyam did as he was told. He stuck his tongue out and made a funny sound while doing so which made Bhola giggle furtively.

Guruji brought the attention of Shyam’s parents to his tongue and said, “Look, the tongue is pale with white spots all over.”

Shyam’s parents nodded. Shyam’s parents were simple people who laboured by the day and laboured by the night, and if they ever found a moment’s rest for their hands they folded it in prayer to the almighty. Their biggest concern was to rid their one and only child of the evil spirit residing within him. If Guruji had asked them that their child’s tongue has fairies dancing on top of it then too the two of them would have nodded to the statement.

“I have never seen his tongue so pale,” his mother observed.

“What about my tongue? Is it also pale?” Bhola asked, sticking his tongue out.

“No, your tongue is bright and pink compared to Shyam’s tongue,” Shyam’s father answered. “The difference is clear.”

Shyam’s mother also stuck her tongue out for comparison and it was agreed that even her tongue has no visible points of concern. Needless to say, it was Shyam’s father’s turn to stick his tongue out for others to examine. Again, needless to say, they arrived at the same conclusion.

Guruji looked on at the four creatures in front of him sticking their tongues out and examining each other. He did not know whether to be amused or bemused by it.

When the four saw Guruji watching them with a perplexed face they quickly reverted to their previous positions and remained silent, awaiting further instructions.

“I am afraid the evil spirit is stronger than what I had expected him to be,” Guruji spoke with concern written all over his face. “We must act quickly before the whole household becomes possessed.”

“Whole household?” Shyam’s father asked, shocked at the words he had just heard. Shyam’s mother repeated the question and looked at Guruji with hopeful eyes.

Guruji nodded and replied, “To drive away the evil spirit, we must organise a havan promptly.”

Bhoot. Bhoot.

Shyam’s mates teased him as he entered the class. Shyam was visibly shaken and on the verge of a breakdown. He kept his head low and sat on the first bench in the corner of the room. Nobody sat anywhere close to him. Nobody except Bhola.

Bhola and Shyam were best friends. They lived next door to each other and had practically spent their teeny-weeny years together. They played together. They studied together. They dug treasures and noses together. They were inseparable.

Bhoot. Bhoot.

Someone (or probably more) had etched those ghastly words on his wooden desk. Shyam quickly covered it with his books.

The teasing continued. Bhola could hear other kids whispering mean things about his friend. Even Miss Geeta’s rebuke failed to silence them.

He is possessed
Don’t go near him
He will eat you
Soon he will turn green
He is a demon

Bhola wanted the teasing to stop but he was powerless. He looked at Shyam to offer him some comfort but Shyam had his head hung low and did not look up. School was a nightmare for him. Shyam wanted to run and go as far as his legs could take him. Little kids are often told that they are capable of anything and everything but they are seldom allowed to do what their little hearts desire. Shyam stayed still in his seat and prayed for the torment to end.

When the giggling and the whispering got louder, Miss Geeta reprimanded the class firmly.
“I don’t want to hear any mumbling. Keep your eyes on the book.”

She walked up to Shyam and said, “Ignore them. Try and concentrate on your studies. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Shyam looked up and nodded. He had come to hate Miss Geeta at this point. It was at her insistence that his parents had agreed to continue sending him to school. They were otherwise keen on keeping him home until he was “completely pure again”. Shyam cursed her under his breath and buried his face in his book.

Bhola noticed that Shyam’s nose was red with shame and embarrassment. When Miss Geeta walked away to continue her lesson, Bhola patted him on the shoulder and whispered gently.
“She’s right. Don’t worry. You will get better soon.”

“Y-yes,” Shyam replied, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Mama and papa have asked Guruji to visit us.”