Kuraigarh Haveli

As the wind whooshed past them, Radhika and Ramesh were comfortably cruising at 120 kmph on the silky-smooth National Highway 44. They were amidst the lush green environs of the Pench Wildlife Reserve, surrounded by verdant foliage. Radhika was astride her KTM 390 Adventure bike, while Ramesh was mounted on his Triumph Tiger. This marked the fifth day of their enthralling road trip on motorcycles from Bangalore to Ladakh. Both Radhika and Ramesh were employed in an IT company in Bangalore, and their relationship had spanned a year of togetherness. As ardent adventure enthusiasts, they had decided to celebrate their anniversary by taking a month-long break from their work to embark on a long bike expedition across the nation.

As Radhika elegantly rode ahead, Ramesh couldn't help but gaze at her admiringly, marvelling at her stunning figure, resplendent in a black leather jacket and knee-length Alpine Star riding boots.

However, the advent of dusk brought with it a hint of concern to Ramesh, as they were running late in reaching Narsinghpur, the next significant town for their overnight halt. A punctured tire on Radhika's bike and a bus accident near Kamptee had foiled their time plan. The forest area they were traversing was frequented by tigers and elephants, so the prudent choice was to halt for the night at the nearest suitable place, rather than take any risks. Moreover, the scorching heat had left them exhausted and yearning for some rest.

Ramesh tried searching for hotels on the internet, but the poor connectivity proved futile. Suddenly, Radhika's bike headlight fell on an old, weather-beaten signboard with the inscription, "Kuraigarh Haveli Hotel", written in an antique font. The signboard pointed towards the right, leading into a path that meandered through the dense forest. Both of them glanced at each other, weighed their options, and decided to take a chance since there seemed to be no other alternative for their overnight stay.

To their relief, the hotel was much closer than they had imagined and seemed to be an ancient palace transformed into a hotel. An old clerk manned the lobby, and with only a few guests staying at the hotel, he offered them the best room, the ‘Thakur Suite’. It was once used as the private quarters of the Thakur of Kuraigarh and had a fascinating antique feel about it, with a four-poster bed and an old-fashioned chandelier. Despite the hotel's fading glory, the room was clean and spacious. Exhausted, they retired to their room and fell asleep almost instantly, worn out from the day's vagaries.

 

Amidst the veil of night, Ramesh stirred from his slumber only to be greeted by a bewitching sight - Radhika astride him, feverishly undressing him. The room lay shrouded in an ebony cloak, with only the moon's tender glow piercing through the window's embrace. Radhika's cascading tresses flowed freely, with the moonbeams casting a spell on her visage and form, rendering her a mesmerizing embodiment of sensuality. "Whoa! Radhi...this is really something," Ramesh gasped, taken aback by her unrestrained ardour. Radhika, wordless, seized him with a fervent kiss, stirring Ramesh's senses and kindling an inferno of passion within. The four-poster bed creaked as they indulged in an amorous frenzy until their bodies were drenched in sweat.

 The next morning, Ramesh winked at Radhika and asked her what came over her last night. Radhika looked blank and said she didn’t know what he was talking about. Despite feeling a bit strange about the situation, Ramesh shrugged it off and assumed that Radhika was simply trying to play a kinky game with him. The couple then revved up their bikes and hit the road again. They planned to hit Gwalior by evening which was a good 620 km away.

 Their day proceeded without an inkling of an incident, yet the traffic enroute had impeded their progress. As the sun began to set and darkness descended upon them, they found themselves in the vicinity of Gwalior. Radhika, who had been trailing him on her trusty steed, suddenly appeared at his side, gracefully perched atop her motorcycle, and waved in his direction. He reciprocated her gesture, but in that fleeting moment, his heart skipped a beat. Had he spotted a mysterious apparition perched upon the rear of her bike? A spectral shadow lurking in the gloom? The road ahead then abruptly illuminated under a luminous streetlight, and he realized that his eyes had merely deceived him, for he beheld only Radhika and her backpack, securely fastened to her motorbike.

They reached a decent-looking motel and checked in after a quick meal. The room was small, functional, and clean, and both of them cosied up on the bed and after a few tots of whisky, watched some TV and drifted off to slumber.

Suddenly, Ramesh was roused from his sleep. Radhika was planting kisses all over his countenance, his chest, and his entire being, enraptured in a blaze of passion. Soon, she was disrobing, her breaths heaving with the intensity of the moment, and in one swift motion, she pulled Ramesh atop her, and they melded into one another, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

Exhausted and spent, Ramesh fell back on the bed, checking the time on his wristwatch - it was well past midnight, inching towards the witching hour. As he snuggled closer to Radhika, slumber overcame him, and he drifted off into a deep, restful sleep. But his tranquillity was short-lived, as he felt a weight on his chest, and when he opened his eyes, Radhika was astride him, as her lips grazed his body in a most provocative manner.

Taken aback, Ramesh tried to make sense of this new and bewildering situation. "Radhika, what is happening? I'm weary, and we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow. Let us retire for the night, please!" he implored her, hoping to quell her passion and get some much-needed rest.

She turned around with a resolute countenance and said "My name is not Radhika – it is Reshma, and I'm still not satisfied." Ramesh was bewildered, unable to fathom the enigmatic whirlwind that had struck him. Yet, to his surprise and horror, the very turbulence that surrounded him stirred his passions, and her presence seemed to electrify his being with some inexplicable force. In the throes of their embrace, their ardour peaked and a cry of ecstasy escaped Radhika's lips, in what sounded like chaste Urdu. A shiver ran down Ramesh's spine, and he recoiled in terror, realizing that something was amiss. He pushed her away and rose to his feet, his mind racing, trying to make sense of the ominous revelation that had just surfaced.

 As he watched with a quivering heart, she opened her mouth, and to his horror, a voice that was not her own, resonated from within her. It was the voice of a woman from a bygone era, brimming with seething anger. The voice painted a sordid picture of a courtesan, named Reshma, who had been hopelessly enamoured by the all-powerful Thakur of Kuraigarh. He had pledged his undying love to her and had promised to make her his bride. Yet, all he had done was satiate his carnal desires with her, night after night, as he continually gave her empty promises. And on the fateful night of their final tryst, he had deceitfully strangled her to death, even as they made love.

 Ramesh stood transfixed in terror, for he had come to realize that Radhika was now a mere vessel, possessed by the spirit of Reshma, who sought to wreak her vengeance and finally attain closure. And with great fortitude, he mustered the courage to speak, “Pray, tell me, how may I be of assistance to you? Spare Radhika, for she is innocent in this matter.” To his surprise, the voice answered back, “The wicked Thakur had left me unfulfilled on that cursed night and had ruthlessly snuffed out my life. Yet, you have managed to provide closure on the first part, but alas, I still remain trapped beneath the chattri.”

 

As the first rays of the morning sun kissed his face, Ramesh awoke with a splitting headache, dazed and confused. To his surprise, Radhika had already risen and greeted him with a warm smile and a cup of coffee, “Good morning, dearest! I hope you had a restful night’s slumber.” Ramesh gazed at her in disbelief, “Radhi, what happened to you last night? Do you not recall anything?” Perplexed, she replied, “Ramesh, it must have been a mere nightmare that troubled you.” But Ramesh could not bear the weight of the secrets he had held within and blurted out the entire tale of her transformation into Reshma and the bizarre events that had transpired since their arrival at Kuraigarh Haveli.

Horror-struck, Radhika listened intently to his account. They both resolved to seek answers, and after scouring the internet for hours, they stumbled upon an obscure legal website that chronicled a landmark court case from 1922. In the trial, the Jaimal Chauhan, Thakur of Kuraigarh, one of the most powerful princelings in Central India, had been charged with the heinous crime of slaying Reshma Bai, a renowned courtesan celebrated for her legendary beauty and her recent debut as a silent film actress in a movie called “Bulbul-E-Paristan”. A grainy black and white photograph of Reshma published on the website revealed her as a stunningly beautiful young woman. The case had dragged on for years, with the Thakur claiming that Reshma had been mauled by a tiger and dragged away while en route from Bombay to Kuraigarh. They never found her body, and ultimately, the Thakur was acquitted for lack of evidence. They chanced upon a photograph of the haveli, and it was the very same edifice they had lodged in the previous night. What's more, they discovered that the day Reshma vanished was precisely 100 years ago from the night they spent in the haveli!

 As they came to a profound realization, it dawned upon them that the elusive deed had been perpetrated within the very confines of the opulent "Thakur Suite". The timeline, exactly a century hence, the full moon and the presence of the amorous young couple in the room that night had triggered the disquieted spirit of Reshma to manifest, looking for redemption – both for her unfulfilled night with the Thakur as well as the undignified disposal of her body and acknowledgement of her murder.

 Ramesh and Radhika looked at each other. "Reshma definitely deserves closure, Ramesh. Let us do this" said Radhika determinedly. They loaded up their bikes and took the long ride back to Kuraigarh Haveli. The old clerk gave them a surprised look on seeing them back. He looked even more surprised when Ramesh asked if there was a chattri. He pointed one out to a dilapidated sandstone structure on one end of the compound. Inspection revealed that the structure overgrown with plants now had a faded inscription on top which said “1922” probably the year of its construction (and the exact year when Reshma disappeared). "I'm sure her body is below this," said Ramesh.

Both of them went to the nearby police station and narrated their fantastic tale (of course without the colourful details of the amorous episodes over the last two nights). The old pot-bellied inspector could barely suppress his laughter and scoffed at them rudely, and seemed more interested in knowing how Radhika a woman, could ride a motorbike and that too a big one as the KTM all the way from Bangalore and muttered something about girls of the current generation being loose characters. They tried showing him the old article on the internet but he was not convinced and started getting irritated. 

 “I had enough” said Ramesh as he called up his classmate who was an IPS officer. His friend in turn was able to call up the SP[5] in charge of that area and finally, the inspector got his orders to help them.

 

 The inspector grumbled but lined up 3 labourers and they started digging up the floor of the chattri whilst the Inspector, Ramesh and Radhika waited at the hotel sipping tea. Soon, one of the labourers came running- his expression said it all- the remains of Reshma had been found!

An old skeleton was found. It appeared to be that of a woman from the tattered clothes and jewellery pieces still struck to it. Soon an forensic team was summoned and the SP himself was at the spot and thanked Ramesh and Radhika. That night they decided to stay at the same room where they had stayed two nights ago. Radhika and Ramesh hardly got any sleep worried that Reshma would possess the former again if they slept. But the night went off without event.

 The forensic report came in the next day and stated that the remains were definitely 90-100 years old and belonged to a woman aged around 25-30 years or so.

The SP called a maulvi and a proper burial was given to the remains in the nearby Muslim burial ground. 

 

After the ordeal was over, Ramesh and Radhika decided to continue their journey together. However, they were both changed by the experience. Ramesh had gained a newfound respect for the supernatural and the power of revenge, while Radhika had come to terms with her own mortality and the importance of living in the present. Reshma never came into Ramesh and Radhika’s lives ever again and seemed to have got a final closure.

In the comfort of their cosy hotel room, nestled amidst the stunning vistas of Ladakh, the culminating haven of their arduous and eventful yet fulfilling odyssey across the length of India, Ramesh gazed at Radhika with a mischievous twinkle in his eye and slyly winked at her. "Radhi…" he said in a hushed tone, "I must confess, I do miss Reshma. She was a ferocious tigress in the boudoir, her passion untamed and primal."

 A crimson blush crept up Radhika's cheeks as she struggled to contain her amusement at Ramesh's impish remark. "Ramesh, you incorrigible scoundrel," she chided, but could not help grinning from ear to ear as she playfully hurled a pillow at him with all the force she could muster.

  [1] Mansion or small palace

   [2] Feudal landlord or minor princeling in colonial India

   [3] Small gazebo like stricture made of sandstone etc mostly to commemorate an event or as a cenotaph.

   [4] Indian Police Service

   [5] Superintendent of Police

   [6] Muslim priest