Yesterday night I met him… The Phantom! Yes, The Phantom of Chinarpur! Before I delve deeper into the details of this story, let me begin today’s journal with the sequence of the events that led to my experience yesterday. As the months have eroded away, my amnesia has also progressed into a more advanced stage. There are so many things I cannot recall anymore. However, I have made it a practice to read my past journals every night and it works really well. I feel that all my efforts have been worth it. Yet, a feeling of dejection about my own self and body keeps creeping into my mind. Understanding this condition, my friend and colleague, Mehul, asked me to accompany him on a weekend trip to the Karnala Bird Sanctuary.
The trip began on Saturday and I must admit that it was a real refresher. Yesterday, that is Sunday, we decided to visit the Karnala Fort and the Ransai Reservoir on our way back and return to Mumbai by the evening. The day was well spent and the two of us had a sumptuous late lunch at a local restaurant. However, as unpredictable as it gets during the monsoon season, a gust of rainclouds brought a flash of heavy downpour. Such was the force of the rain coupled with a strong thunderstorm, that it seemed impossible for us to head back. We decided to wait, but the incessant rains seemed unperturbed even after another long hour. It was already six-thirty and the darkness was covering
As we were preparing to leave, the restaurant-owner’s help came up to us and said, “Sahib, do you know about Chinarpur?”
Both Mehul and I gave a perplexed look while the boy continued, “Sahib, in this weather condition I believe it would not be safe to drive back to Mumbai. Moreover, the night is descending fast. Chinarpur is a small village about three kilometers away from here. Not many people have heard about it, but there is a good news. There is a bungalow of the ancient zamindari of Chinarpur. It is said that Raja Shoorveer Arya built it centuries ago. Even though nobody from their lineage lives there, the local caretaker still takes care of the place. He is my uncle, Balwant Singh. Go there and spend the night. Tell my uncle about me. My name is Veeru. He will allow to spend the night there. In the morning, you can head back to Mumbai.”
Considering the prevailing weather condition, the suggestion of the boy seemed quite logical. Mehul and I consulted each other and decided to head towards the bungalow of Chinarpur. The strong downpour was making visibility difficult but we managed to drive down to Chinarpur within half-an-hour. The village was indeed remote and sparsely populated. Amid the thatched huts and muddy roads, we approached the bungalow. It is worth mentioning that the bungalow of Shoorveer Arya was indeed a masterpiece and the magnanimity of the palatial building enthralled both Mehul and me.
Balwant Singh heard the reference from Veeru and welcomed us inside. He said, “Sahibs, you can stay here tonight. I shall make arrangements in a room on the first-floor for you. However, you would have to manage with a meagre dinner from my own limited resources.”
We thanked Balwant Singh and gave him some money, as a token of respect for his hospitality. The rains continued undeterred and Mehul checked the weather report and declared that it won’t recede before midnight. We got freshened up and, around nine-thirty, finished our dinner with Balwant Singh. After dinner, the three of us sat on the veranda and chatted. Balwant Singh narrated the history of Chinarpur and how, after Raja Shoorveer Arya, the village passed away into public oblivion. Presently, my eyes fell on a structure at a corner of the courtyard. It was a small temple-like structure inside which a small lamp was glowing.
Looking at my inquisitive expression, Balwant Singh said, “That is the Temple of the Phantom! It was built by Raja Shoorveer Arya himself. It is said that the Raja saw the Phantom inside this temple. There is no deity inside the temple. The four pillars at the four corners carry four large mirrors of Belgium glass and the center of the temple’s floor carry the footmark of the Phantom himself. The local people believes that the Phantom visits this temple, at night, and protects the residents of Chinarpur. Look at that inscription on top of the door…”
Mehul and I stared at the top of the door connecting the veranda to the courtyard. An edifice was engraved on it with the following words…
Love Thy Phantom, and the Phantom Loves Thy Men
Hate Thy Phantom, and the Phantom Grieves Thy Name
Mehul laughed away the entire topic and picked up some light discussion to ease away the mood. After another hour we went away to sleep. Within a short time, Mehul was fast asleep, but I kept wondering about the “Temple of the Phantom”.
As the clock ticked past midnight, the rains receded slowly and the clouds began to blow away in the breeze. Presently, a clear sky peeped up with twinkling stars. I got up from my bed and tiptoed out into the courtyard. At a corner room on the ground floor, Balwant Singh was also fast asleep. I didn’t disturb him and headed straight towards the temple. A rush of adrenaline gushed inside my body and a deep sense of adventure gripped me.
I went inside the temple. The lamp was flickering in the mild breeze and the darkness was prevailing inside the stone structure. I went in and took a quick look at the interior. My heart was beating fast. The huge dome-like roof seemed like the mouth of a Phantom, trying to engulf me. I gathered courage and went to the center and placed my feet on the Phantom’s footmarks engraved in stone. I was not scared but wanted to experience something that I had never experienced before. Presently, through the skylight, the bright soothing moonlight entered the room and fell on me. There was a romanticism in the entire ambience that I cannot depict on paper. I looked around and observed something interesting. On the four mirrors, placed on the four pillars, there was a reflection of me! Front the four directions… East, West, North and South… I could see myself!
Suddenly, everything became crystal clear in front of my eyes! The words engraved on the edifice started to make sense. I was amazed by the philosophy of Raja Shoorveer Arya…
We ourselves are The Phantom! We, the mortal, the privileged or underprivileged… we are blessed with this beautiful life. We must love ourselves, the gift of life! Only then can life help us love the men and women around us! There is no Phantom, no ghost… it is just we! Life needs to be cherished and we must love ourselves, our bodies our souls our lives! If we abuse them, then The Phantom suffers. If we love them, then only can we appreciate and take care of everything else.
I smiled at my realization. I understood that my anxiety and feeling of dejection about my own self and body was so very wrong. The cool breeze calmed my mind and body and I returned back to my room. I didn’t tell anything to Mehul or Balwant Singh about my experience. It is something that cannot be said, it is something that needs to be felt.
As I finish today’s journal entry, I urge myself, The Phantom of Chinarpur, The Phantom within me needs to cherish this gift of life forever!
