K. Hari Kumar - Indias Most Haunted: Tales of Terrifying Places

To Poori, Amma and Abba

Fear defines horror.

Almost everyone enjoys a good horror story. In moments of solitude in the rain, or with friends around a campfire, a tale about the supernatural can be the perfect form of entertainment.

While the stories in this book were inspired by rumours, news articles, famous incidents, personal experiences, etc., the names of people and some of the places have been changed. I have also exercised my creative freedom as a writer to add certain elements to each of these frightening storiesyou know, the twists and turns and dialogues.

I have also kept an open mind when it comes to believing in the existence of the paranormal. To be honest, sometimes, it is the normal that should be feared most. After all, throughout history, horrifying acts of violence and depravity have always been committed by the living. Horror, therefore, is not limited to the supernatural. That is why, in this book, you will find restless spirits, the extraterrestrial, rakshasas and truly evil human beings.

India has a wealth of frightening tales and urban legends, and now I invite you, dear reader, to enjoy some of the most terrifying among them.

Lets begin

The supernatural and the otherworldly have always fascinated me thanks to my grandmas scary stories. I would spend my summer vacations at my grandmas place in Kerala, away from the hustle and bustle of Gurgaon. Then there was that particular year when the Monkey Man haunted my summer. The trip to Kerala, that year, was an escape from the dreaded urban legend. One evening, while I was accompanying my grandma to light a lamp by the banyan tree, I told her about the Monkey Man. I was expecting her to be in awe of him. To my surprise, she just shrugged and asked Is that all? Noticing the disappointment on my face she said, Let me tell you the story of what happened in this neighbourhood.

There used to be a movie theatre in my home town. Apparently, my great-grandfather was the owner of the cinema house, and it was called Krishna Talkies. It was the only movie theatre in the region, the next one being in the city of Trichur. It did not boast of air conditioning or cushioned seats like we see in our multiplexes these days. In fact, it did not even have a solid roof! The ceiling was thatched with dried palm leaves, and on the hottest days of summer one could actually see the sun peeping in through the gaps between the leaves.

The theatre was located near the junction that led to our village, and the front side faced the bustling highway that connected the city of Trichur with the historical town of Cranganore. The back of the place overlooked a vast stretch of uninhabited forest area that ended at the small Krishna temple built four hundred years ago by early settlers. The area near the temple was decently populated, however, the mile between the theatre and the temple was always deserted, especially after sunset. The people of the village were even afraid to enter the perimeter of the place as they believed it was haunted by a yakshi.

Yakshi were said to be benevolent celestial beings like the Devas. However, modern literature has brought them down to the status of churels, at least in Hindi folklore. A yakshi, in popular Malayalee culture, is an enchantress who roams around in secluded places at midnight wearing a flowing white saree. They were painted as voluptuous beings with sharp eyes. They were also known to smell of paalapoo, the flower of a tree which is rightfully called the devils tree in English.

Yakshi are said to prey on single men travelling on lonely roads at night. They lure them with their beauty and then feast on their blood. People leaving Krishna Talkies after the second show wouldnt dare linger to stand behind the theatre for fear of the yakshi.

It was the fifth day of April 1957 when the Communist leader, E.M.S. Namboodiripad, was sworn in as the first chief minister of Kerala. That day marked a new chapter in world history, when a communist government was elected democratically. However, far away from the local celebrations, Kalyanidevi was only waiting for the arrival of her husband, Madhava Menon. Madhava, just like his comrades, had spent the entire day at the party office celebrating the Communist Partys grand victory. The fever of the triumph had gone to the mans head so much so that he had already started making plans to revolt against the local landlord, who was none other than my grandmas father.

Madhavas family had been working as caretakers of the landlords estate for a little over three generations. Madhava believed that it was finally time to fight against the oppression. After the last show for the day, my great-grandfather would send his brother to count the days collection at the box office and bring it home. On that particular day, the latter was unavailable for he had gone to Triprayar to attend a relatives wedding. Thus, the duty had fallen on the ideologically charged Madhava Menon.

As dark clouds gathered in the sky, Madhava arrived by the last bus at about half-past eleven in the night. People had already left after the second show and the gate was locked. The puny man held the rusty chain wound around the gates latch and knocked it against the metal. Once, twice and then the third time. Velappan, the manager and usher, knew the signal and he immediately came out with a lantern and a leather pouch. He tiptoed towards the gate and unlocked the chains.

I thought you would go home and not come here tonight, said the dark-skinned Velappan. Im glad I dont have to spend the night here.

The celebrations lasted a little longer than expected, the caretaker responded in his baritone. And how could I not come? Im forced to follow the orders of that oppressive landlord.

I heard your mothers taken ill and Kalyanidevi is alone.

Yes, but the landlord is heartless. He doesnt care about the lives of workers, Madhava complained as he walked through the gate.

Velappan handed him the leather pouch. Well, you are her husband. If you cared about her, you wouldnt have left for the celebration at the town hall, would you?

How could I forget? Youre one of the many loyal dogs of the landlord. As long as people like you wag their tails, society will never be rid of its illness. Our victory today is a sign that things are going to change for the better in this region. The revolution has begun. The man, clad in a white dhoti and cotton shirt, announced the last sentence with unrestrained pride.

Ayyo! I do not know about all this revolution business. Im just a simple man trying to make ends meet, and Im forever indebted to the landlord for benevolently taking care of my familys financial needs. Velappan paused to look at the theatre for a moment and then requested, Shall I go home now? My wife must be waiting.

Yes, of course. I dont want you to blame me for keeping you late.

Arent you coming with me? asked Velappan.

No, Im afraid Ill have to take the shortcut to save time.

A flicker of fear appeared in the eyes of the usher as he inquired, But Madhava why? Why in the world would you want to take the shortcut through the woods?