THE MYSTERIOUS AILMENT OF SAMEER ANSARI
-asif uzzaman
1
It
was around middle of May when Sameer Ansari began to show signs of epilepsy. Those moments
were characterised by Sameer falling to the ground and twisting his body,
turning his hands and legs at most unusual angles. His eyes rolled as he
slithered on the floor, and all that came out from his mouth was a harsh
gurgling sound which made the scene even more ominous to behold.
The
summer holidays had just begun, and thus, most of our co-lodgers had already
left for their homes and could not be expected to return any time before three
weeks at minimum. Which meant that I was left alone for three weeks in
two-storey, fifteen-roomed lodge with Sameer who had caught this ghastly
disorder lately. Sameer lived in the room next to mine, and we often used to
study together. We were the only two who had not left for our homes this summer
for our own different reasons. Sameer was an only-child and his parents had
gone for Hajj pilgrimage, which practically left no one whom he could go and
meet in his house. Moreover, he was not a homesick person. I, on the other
hand, could not leave because I had joined a summer camp programme where they
taught riding motorbikes.
So,
it first happened on the second day of my biking class. The weather was
particularly extra hot that day, and I had returned to the lodge all sweats. I
made my way into the corridor calling for Sameer but he never replied. I was as
irritated as I was tired. Riding bikes in circles and 8s continuously for three
hours in such weather was no child’s play. Walking in the corridor towards my
room I remembered vaguely that I had regretted joining the camp sometime in the
middle of the practice that day, which by now had vanished. Also vanished had
the heat by now. It was typical summer dusk and I was amazed why Sameer had not
switched on any of the bulbs in the passage that day. I switched on all the
lights on my way to my room which was at the far end of the corridor. And there
he was. Sameer. He was lying on the floor on his stomach, and his head was
twisted at almost hundred and eighty degrees. His left hand was raised
unnaturally straight upwards as if someone was pulling it, while the right one
was inserted in his open mouth, pulling down his jaw. His legs had gone stiff
and were stretching wide enough in opposite directions so as to make a man able
to sit between them on the floor. ‘Dumbstruck’ would be an understatement to
describe what I felt at the sight. I dropped my bag, and in a hurry nearly
dived. I pulled Sameer’s hands and legs and tried to collect his whole body in
my hold. After struggling for what seemed like hours, I was able to get his
hands and his head in my control. Leaving his legs to fate, I held his hands
and head and torso in a bear hug, and remained in the position till his body
slowly eased out. Then he fell asleep. I lifted him up from the floor and lay
him on the bed.
The
whole fiasco had made me so very tired and so very hungry. I went from the
room, put a lock on the door for the fear that he might not go anywhere if the
fit hit him again. I could not wait for the dubba-wala to arrive with our
dinner. There was still hours left for his arrival. So, I went to a nearby
restaurant which was neither posh nor particularly low-class and treated myself
with two full plates of pasta after having two samosas. It took a lot of time
to finish my meal, but I needed that. By the time I was about to get up from my
table – I was finishing my second bottle of Sprite by then – it was 8 O’clock.
When
I returned to the lodge and opened the lock of my room, Sameer was still
sleeping. The dubba-wala had left our box outside the door. I woke Sameer up
and talked to him very normally. I told him he had taken too much sleep today
and he agreed with a smile, never knowing what he had been through.
“I
am feeling very hungry, Rishi,” he said to me innocently.
“Don’t
worry. You can eat my share as well,” I smiled. “You’re lucky that I’m filled
up to my neck right now.”
“Thank
you.”
Sameer
was looking as innocent as a newborn and also as cute. I debated in my mind and
calculated that it would be a little rude of me if I told him about his
epileptic fit, of which he did not remember a thing.
***
2
Two
days later it happened again, and around the same time at the
dusk when I returned from the camp. This time his body was twisted in very
different but equally unnatural and horrible position. Once again, I locked him
in the room and went out to eat. Eating junk food was becoming my personal way
of dealing with stress.
That
night, while offering the two tiffin-boxes to him, I asked him if he had been
feeling something unusual happen to him lately, or if he had eaten something
unhealthy, or if he had done something which was not usual in any way.
“I
don’t remember such a thing, but why do you ask?” he said very confidently, and
then his confident vanished. I saw him reconsidering my question in his mind,
and then he spoke at length. “Three-four days ago, when you were away, Rishi, a
boy came to me here in this room of yours in which I have been living since
others have left. He was a small boy, about eight or ten years old. He came and
told me that his kite had got stuck on a tree and that he wanted me to take it
down for him. So, I went with him and he led me to the bungalow behind the
lodge. You must have seen the guava tree there. It is outside the campus of
that old bungalow. I thought no one lives there. Anyway, I went there and
climbed the tree and dropped the kite down which the boy caught and ran away
after thanking me. I remained on the tree and enjoyed the wind. I was looking
around when I saw that...”
“You
saw what?” I asked.
“I
saw an old lady watching me from a window of the bungalow. She was wearing a
black saree and black skullcap. Looking at her gave rise to a very horrific
scene in my mind and I fell off the tree. I don’t know how it happened, but I
am sure that it was seeing that woman that provoked such a horrible imagination
in my mind.”
“And
what did you see in your mind?”
“Well,
I don’t know how to express it in words. But it was very horrible. It was
like...umm...an interior view of a wooden house, wood planks were creaking...a
man was sitting on a chair singing a horrible song in Sanskrit...and there were
many, many things which could not be expressed in words but made my heart sink
with fear. And so I fell from the tree.”
“What
happened after you fell down?”
“Nothing,”
Sameer smiled. “I just returned to the room.”
‘And
your body got twisted,’ I thought of saying but held myself back.
Listening
to Sameer’s account made it certain that the reason behind his epilepsy that he
had caught all of a sudden was the bungalow behind the lodge and the lady
living in it. If I wanted to help my friend, I had to take a step ahead. Which
I did.
Next
morning, when Sameer was still sound asleep and the sky was still dark, I woke
up and wrote a message before going to the bungalow.
Sameer,
I
know you are not aware of this, but you have caught a rather unusual disease.
You have started to get epileptic fits. I have seen your body twisted on the
floor of my room twice, and I have been hiding it from you. The account that
you gave me last night made things clear to me. I know your disorder has
something to do with your experience at the bungalow behind the lodge. And so,
I am going to help you. If you are reading this letter, I am out to the
bungalow trying to solve the matter. Don’t even think of coming there to assist
me. Remain in the room; eat the breakfast when it comes. Eat my share as well.
I will be back by the time you finish the breakfast.
Rishi
***
3
I
was determined to solve the mystery once and for all. While I could
not quite succeed, I did not completely fail either. Here is what happened when
I went there. What happened was very similar – almost identical – to what had
happened with Sameer. When I climbed on the tree which Sameer had climbed, I
saw an old lady watching me from a window of the bungalow. She was wearing a
black saree and black skullcap. Looking at her gave rise to a very horrific
scene in my mind and I fell off the tree. I don’t know how it happened, but I
am sure that it was seeing that woman that provoked such a horrible imagination
in my mind. Well, I don’t know how to express it in words. But it was very
horrible. It was like...umm...an interior view of a wooden house, wood planks
were creaking...a man was sitting on a chair singing a horrible song in
Sanskrit...and there were many, many things which could not be expressed in
words but made my heart sink with fear. And so I fell from the tree.
But
nothing bad happened after that. I returned and Sameer stopped having fits.
As
I am writing this, Sameer is sitting beside me, leafing through Concepts of
Physics. The other lodgers have returned and it has been about a week since I
visited that bungalow. From then, Sameer has never had a fit, and everything is
fine. All have indulged back in studies and everyone is living as they are
supposed to. Most schools have reopened after summer vacations. The lodge is
alive once again, but I and Sameer are still living in my room only. Today
someone left an envelope outside our room which we have not opened as of now. I
am going to read that now.
Rishi,
Since
we have returned, we have noticed that you and Sameer wake up very late. But
that is alright. You must have noticed that none of the boys are talking to you
and Sameer since we have come back. That is because we are afraid of you two.
Each morning, we see you and Sameer twisted in the bed or on the floor. And you
both sing a ghastly song in that position, probably in Sanskrit. Most of us are
afraid, and do not have the courage to talk about it to your face. We don’t
know what happened here while we were away, but it is really terrifying and is
becoming difficult for us to reside here. Two of the guys, whose name I won’t
disclose, have already packed up and will leave this lodge in a couple of days.
I am also afraid to disclose my identity before you. Consider this letter from
all the boys living here, and do something about it. We are all leaving this
lodge for the time being.
Get
well soon!
Co
lodgers.
***
END
Originally published on Juggernaut and the winner for Author of the Week on the same.
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