The Haunted Place. Poem by Om Chawla

- -[For almost a millennium Hindu genocide continued to be perpetrated throughout the length and breadth of India so that the narrative of the following poem could be true of any city, town or village in India.]


Not far from the village
A stretch of uneven forsaken land, infested
with wild foliage and fruitless bushes,
by the locals shunned as a place haunted;
where shrieks and cries were felt though never heard,
where non existent prying eyes constantly stared,
where fear gripped before venturing that way,
some fainted and swooned on mere essay;
suddenly sprang to life one day.
Leading a group of helping hands, when Ali
armed with shovels hoes and trolleys,
descended on that stretch of ghostly land;
mapped, measured and with markings invested,
and foisted a signboard demarcating,
site for archaeological digging.

Just as the sun set, Ali and his men,
oblivious to the stare of prying eyes,
retreated to their camps for the night.
Lying in the bed, sleep awaiting
Ali felt an invisible force's beacon
whence driven by the irresistible urge,
again was he led to the site of excavation.
A horde of invisible phantom figures,
surrounded him, pleading and beseeching
of which he remained oblivious.
Transfixed, he stood there, for some time:
shaking off the trance like grip whereafter
he realized in wonderment that he had come to the site,
how, why and where for his reasoning defied.
Instantly he scrambled back to his camp,
and soon fell asleep and lapsed into an eerie dream,
wherein a shriveled old woman asked him:
' Now that you have come my great...great grandson
free us from this ghostly bondage, provide us with salvation.'

'Who be you and what do you want? '

'Oh my dear son, several generations have passed,
when muslim invaders this village pillaged.
They killed men, raped and murdered women.
They dumped the corpses beneath this ground.
Young girls of the village they abducted,
forcibly married and to your religion converted.
Being of my daughter's lineage you have duty,
in accord with our faith, perform our last rites,
and thus from ghostly bondage liberate us my child.'

Ignoring that dream's old woman's plaint,
and watched by a host of curious villagers
and a multitude of invisible phantom figures,
Ali and his men set about digging the ground
cautiously they proceeded lest they damage any 'find'.
In seven days of excavations nothing was found;
contrarily frequent mishaps caused labour depletion.
Just as they planned abandoning excavations
Ali and his men came upon a heap of skeletons.
Soon the word of discovery spread throughthe village
whence village head and priest came running.
Then ensued frenetic discussion wherein Ali shared
what the old woman had told him in the dream.
Superstitious fears soon gripped them; whence
village priest persuaded Ali to perform
last rites for the peace of distressed souls.
A memorial in honour of murdered innocents
was there raised with following inscription:
'Here lie buried the remains of thousands of innocents
murdered brutally by Muslim zealots.'

Distressed souls now do not haunt the site,
probably in heaven they have found respite.