The Blue Lantern

I remember I spent countless evenings with my grandmother. The  lantern is a firm witness. It may have lost its shape now. Rust is also there in the metallic parts. But it has thousands of memories encrypt on it.

Each evening I would look for my grandmother; a short height lady with fat nose as mine. Relatives claim I look like her. She would lit the lantern and tell me the stories of ghosts in the town. The ghosts in her stories were really scary; covered in blanket, sometimes without head. I would never know when I slept in her lap, scared, with the lantern beside me.

This lantern is a firm witness. Nothing is hidden from it. It knows that I feared ghosts. I screamed in darkness. I hid myself in my grandmother’s lap. It knows everything.

One new moon night, she looked hurt. The absolute charm was missing on her face. Also she was not in a mood to tell me the stories of ghosts. I felt strange.

I went to the verandah where she was lying on a small cot. I asked her the reason but she did not say anything. On requesting her numerous times she told me the reason. A few days ago, some men had abducted Daulat Ram’s daughter  when she went for Sanskrit tuition. Today she was found near the colony gate lying in an unconscious state. People  have taken her to the hospital.

I felt enraged at this act of those men who had committed this crime. I cursed them in immense anger. Yet my grandmother did not say anything. Her face that carried a glow in the flame of lantern looked pale today. No any ghost’s stories today. There was a lull all around. She told me that she felt pity for that Daulat Ram’s daughter. She was getting married in a few days.” Poor girl, She loved henna so much” she said with her face still pale.

I felt astonished, rather confused.” Why can’t she apply henna in her hands? She has luckily reached home and will be fine in a few days. I remember one such incident when Aneel got hurt in an accident and was happily married once he was discharged from the hospital. Why can’t Daulat Ram’s daughter get married anymore? She is beautiful enough, besides her father also had earned enough wealth?  “ I asked my fat nosed grandmother.

The most talkative old woman, my short- heighted grandmother did not utter a word.  She was least interested to answer me. She just said that I was a child now and can not understand these things.

“For some people, life turns much more scary than the ghosts covered in blanket in my stories. Sometimes the storm gets such intense that however hard we try, we can not lit the lantern and are bound to live in darkness. Darkness with no one around” she said these words with a heavy heart. I felt upset. I could not see the charm on my grandmother’s face that new moon night. Ghosts did not come that night. They did not threaten me to sleep.

At midnight there came an unusual storm from the west. Raging wind wished  to deform each and every object that came in it’s way. I rushed towards my lantern, tried hard to keep the flame on ;yet failed. The storm succeeded, leaving me in darkness.

Slowly I moved to the verandah where grandmother slept. She was lying there in her small cot. The raging storm could not perturb her.” She seems used to it” I said in astonishment.

After that night I listened to several ghost stories. Red eyed ghosts, ghosts with dagger in their hands. But none could thrill me, threaten me to sleep.” Life turns much more scary than the ghosts covered in blanket in my stories”. These words of my grandmother reverberated in my ears each time she started a new story.

Years passed by and I grew older. My father sent me to a boarding school in Northern India. In the competitive environment, I found it hard to adjust. Yet studying late night worked and I managed to secure third position. One Sunday evening I got a call from my mother informing me of the ill health of my grandmother.

She died before I could reach home.

It’s been a long time since then I haven’t listened to any ghost stories. Things have changed. I never knew when I turned twenty three.

A few days ago while searching for something in the store room, I found that blue lantern. I remembered the flat nosed, short-heighted old woman for a while. As I tried to touch it, I felt a strong shock in my hands. Be it my hallucination, but I felt ashamed. Now I knew what my grandmother meant to say that new moon night. Now I knew why Daulat Ram’s daughter could not get married. I was stupid enough to compare her abduction with Aneel’s accident. Daulat’s Ram daughter was bound to live in darkness FOR SHE WAS RAPED.

No one wants to marry a rape victim in our society. Getting raped is also a crime here. Now I knew why she never applied henna in her hands, the henna that she liked so much.
 I shook the lantern. There was no kerosene in it.