Voodoo

VOODOO
It was one of those days when one could afford to brave the powerful mid-May heat of the Delhi sun. In the hustle-bustle of Lajpat Nagar, there was scramble of the pedestrians as they tried to cross the busy road. My sister-in-law held my hand tight as we crossed the road amidst an ocean of other people.
My eyes fell on some cute little pots that lay by the sides of the road. As I asked her about them, she warned - "Careful about those small pots. Don't overturn them by mistake. Some people here put bad luck in them....!"
I had once tried to go to a voodoo master in Lajpat Nagar. My mind wandered - back to those days, those times....

Voodoo has been an ancient powerful magical practice over the ages, which still held its position firm though now people have begun to doubt its powers. It has been partly due to hypocrites pretending to be voodoo-masters and possessing magical powers.
Dinabandhu Das was a scholar who had studied about ancient African practices for his PhD degree. He was a typical 50-year old Bengali. He once had a bad scooter accident in his younger days that resulted in the amputation of his left foot - A wooden Jaipur-foot had taken its place. His dress was almost always the same - the black baggy trousers, white kurta with shiny black shoes that he wore over his blend of natural and artificial feet. A Wills Filter was between his lips most of the time.

Dinabandhu had an Ahom typist working under him by the name of Clarence Gogoi. Clarence, though officially a typist, shared a passion for ancient occult practices and was quite erudite on the subject. These two were always seen by people, having long discussions, poring over old books and occasionally smoking the odd cigarette together. They hardly cared for anyone - that was partly because both of them were not tied by the ropes of marital life.
Dinabandhu, along with Clarence, had gone to Delhi to attend a month-long seminar. Accommodation was hard to come by. However, after roaming about, Dinabandhu got two rooms in a dreary old hotel in Lajpat Nagar. There, by chance, he met a Negro in the reception area, who claimed to be a Voodoo Master - one who could teach the art of Voodoo. Dinabandhu soon realized that the Negro was indeed a scholar on the subject of Voodoo practice. Nature had amazing ways to bring like-minded people together. Within a few seconds of discussion, it became clear to Clarence - Dina Da, as Clarence called him, had forgotten all about the seminar. After all, he was going to learn Voodoo from this master of African Voodoo.
After the brief, rapid discussion between the two scholars, Dinabandhu ushered Clarence back to their hotel room.
"Clarence!"
"Yes, Dina Da?"
"I am going to learn the art of Voodoo. The man I talked too is very learned on the subject. Within a short period of 3 months, if everything goes smoothly, I shall become a master of Voodoo."
"That's great, Dina da. Maybe I can keep a record of your trail of learning how to practice Voodoo?"
"I would be grateful. Only let's keep this business of tracking my developments clandestine, ok?"
"As you wish, Dina Da!"
The practice started from the next morning. Dinabandhu went to his master's room right at 7. A placard saying "No shoes inside" made him uncomfortable. He didn't like to open his shoes for then his wooden feet made a certain kind of 'thuk-thuk' sound. But still he opened his shoes and sounded a resounding knock on the door. Eagerness is a virtue every teacher wants in his students - Dinabandhu was more than eager to learn Voodoo. He was excited as a child. After all, his venture was about to start.
"Ah, you have come on time. Good!"
The room was quite dark. It was painted in maroon. A small bulb glowed in a different room from which a faint glimmer came in the room. A small fan was keeping up the circulation in the room. There was a single window, which was covered with black paper. A huge picture of a many-handed Dancing Heihitan God had been hung in the wall. Its eyes had a certain kind of glow that spoke of untold stories. The fangs in the oral cavity of the deity were quite frightening.
Dinabandhu was inside the room staring at his Master.
"Yes, Master. Can we begin?"
The master sounded out a hoarse laughter. Then gazing straight into the eyes of his student, he said, “My friend, I am not a lunatic. Nor am I a hypocrite" - His face had come near to Dinabandhu's face, his voice down to a whisper now, - "What I am going to teach you is an ancient practice. You will ruin your life if anything goes wrong. You may turn into a lunatic - even a murderer. Voodoo speaks of energy- a negative one. There will be risks at every stage of learning. Voodoo can kill...anyone, anywhere. Are you sure you want to continue?"
"Master, I am ready to face the consequences if there are any. Can we now begin?"
In the dim light, the ancient Master slowly unraveled the mysterious facts and formulation of the Voodoo cult. Dinabandhu hung onto every word. 'Concentration is the base of voodoo' - he learned. The Master told him to increase his concentration powers. He told him to start by looking hard into the eyes of the huge picture of the Heihitan God and concentrating.
In the following weeks, Dinabandhu became a master of concentration. His meals started becoming irregular and sometimes he could even survive a day without water. The Master was pleased at the progress of his student.
Meanwhile, Clarence was keeping track of the developments of his teacher.
'Dina Da is progressing wonderfully. He has now mastered the art of concentration. His meals have become irregular but I suppose I shouldn't disturb him when he is busy. But he is busy most of the time. He has become like a saint - distractions are worthless in front of him. He can even go into a trance with his eyes open these days.' He wrote in his account.
As weeks rolled into months, Dinabandhu himself was unaware that he was making rapid progress in the art of voodoo. The Master was surprised at the pace at which student was grasping the harder facts and had begun practicing them at ease. Dinabandhu could now even blow out a candle placed at quite a distance just through the power of the mind. His course was almost finished. Only the last chapters were left, which determined the actual power of the mind of the learner of the ancient cult.

That was when things began to go wrong.

It started one night when Clarence heard noises from inside the Master's room. Curious to know what had happened, he went into the room. In the dim light, he could see that a verbal argument was on the way between the two scholars. The Voodoo-Master seemed mad with fury. He was shouting out certain illegible words. Dinabandhu also was muttering certain words and was waving his hands like a madman. Suddenly, Dinabandhu was out of his trance - and was about to go out of the room when he suddenly saw Clarence peeking through the curtain.
Dinabandhu could hardly move. He could not believe that Clarence was in the same room as he. The Master's eyes had gone fiery red was he saw the intruder. Before Clarence realized, he had blacked out.
Next morning, when Clarence woke up, he remembered the previous night's happenings. He had a dim memory of a huge demon-like figure engulfing him with its many hands. Dinabandhu was awake and was smoking his Wills cigarette when Clarence walked into his room.
"Dina Da, What happened yesterday?"
"Why had you gone inside the room?"
"I heard noises. I thought you might be in trouble. So I ...."
"It was really very bad of you. The Master was transferring some powers into my mind. We weren't having a fight. What you saw inside is the energy, which incorporates evil in mind. As you disrupted this last ritual, which had to be performed to become a voodoo master, I don't know what the effects will be. Even the Master is worried. Anyone of us maybe adversely affected because of your stupid blunder."
"I am sorry, Dina Da. I promise it won't happen next time."
"If only there is a next time Clarence, if only..." He walked out letting his last sentence hang in the air.

Next morning, a man was found dead in the hotel's staircase. It was a pathetic looking scene. It seemed that all the blood of the man had been sucked out of him. He looked absolutely terrified at the time of death. It seemed he was frightened to death. Police had decided to put restriction in moving out of the hotel. They ordered his post-mortem, which showed that the man had died due to some immense pain and discomfort, the cause for which was still to be determined. A few marks of fangs were seen over his temple. Some people said they had heard a kind of thumping sound on the previous night.
Clarence tried to go and meet the Voodoo Master, but he refused to cooperate. Dinabandhu also refused to talk with him. He just kept smoking his Wills cigarette. Fear was rampant in the atmosphere of the hotel.
'There has been a Murder in the hotel. Some people have said that they had heard a thumping sound. Dina Da is not in his usual self. He is behaving strangely. He doesn't talk with me anymore. Something is terribly wrong. The Voodoo Master also looks uncomfortable. I don't know whom to blame. I also feel different at times. I don’t know what to think.’ Clarence wrote in his account.
The next night, Clarence was sleeping in his room when suddenly he heard a distinct sound of a 'thuk-thuk'. He looked out. In the dim moonlight, he saw the outline of a figure moving across the corridor. The figure was smoking a cigarette. The figure was moving right towards his room.
Clarence was trembling with excitement and fear. He jumped back to his bed and pretended to be asleep. The door of his room opened and the figure drew closer to his bed. More closer. The 'thuk-thuk' sound was prominent now. The figure leaned over him and touched his temple and Clarence felt a shiver pass through his body as if a lighting bolt had passed through him. He heard the figure muttering, “I thought so…..Yes…..”Then slowly, the figure started to go back the same way he had come. Clarence was mesmerized by the actions.
Next morning, the scholar Dinabandhu Das was found murdered in his bed. A haunting look of recognition was spread over his face. The marks of a snake's fangs were seen all over his body. He seemed to have been sucked out of his soul.
However, much to the amazement of Police, the autopsy made it clear that Dinabandhu was not a victim of snake poison. It was something else.
‘Something is very wrong. Dina Da is no more. I can’t believe it. There were fang-marks all over his body. He had come to my room yesterday night. What happened after that? My head also doesn’t feel right. I have started to think about evil things all of a sudden- I think that day something bad happened to me! Or maybe…maybe the Heihitan deity is doing this…. Maybe the Voodoo Master is responsible… Or is it I??… I will go mad soon it seems!’
The next victim was a Negro who was found dead outside his room. The Negro’s had been killed mercilessly. It seemed he had tried to resist whatever had attacked him. The room of the Negro was in tatters. Everything was thrown about. The people whose rooms were near his said that they had seen a huge picture in his room that was missing. One man said, “ He had told me that he was a voodoo master”.
After a thorough search, Police had to agree to let the occupants leave the hotel. The picture of the Heihitan God was not found.
Searching for a Voodoo-Master in one of the lesser-known streets of Lajpat Nagar, I saw a dimly lit room in the ground floor of a dirty old building.
I peeked in. A huge picture of a Heihitan deity was hanging from the wall. Curious, I went in. A bearded man with a scar of a fang in his temple was sitting behind a desk with many small pots on it.
"What do you want, child?" he asked. His canine teeth were longer than normal men, I realized.
I fled away.
I had fled not because I was afraid of Voodoo practitioners.
I fled away for I recognized the elongated canines of the man who sat behind which resembled the fangs of a snake. I had recognized the eyes, which were hauntingly the same as in the picture of the Heihitan deity.
I had fled because I had met Clarence Gogoi.