Never Take The Shortcut

Moti was not superstitious. Not that education was behind it. He barely knew his calculations, but knew them adequate enough to manage his meager sellings. He sold eggs in a near by town, for which he had to cycle all the way to and fro. Under the normal circumstances, one followed the pukka road which was about one hour for one way trip.

But Moti usually took the shortcut. It passed through the outskirts of a thick, deep jungle, though only briefly. Village folks talked about the snakes, hyenas, big cats frequenting those woods. Some even warned about the unruly supernatural elements flaunting their presence. The weak would shudder at those stories. But Moti wasn't weak. And he wasn't superstitious either.

But his wife was. Previous night she had some bad dream, and she won't tell what. All that Moti knew was that she implored her NOT to take the shortcut that evening. To avoid the fuss, he relented, though partially. Much to the chagrin of his wife, he added that he won't enter the thicket after dark, but otherwise it would depend upon the circumstances.

So after selling the day's eggs, he was on his way back and it wasn't dark yet. He laughed at his soul mate. His grandfather once told him that a superstition is a premature explanation that overstays its time. She needed to get over it.

A few minutes into the jungle he realized that it gets dark a little more quicker in side it. Another few minutes, and his opinion changed once more. It's get dark damned more quicker. In fact, it was already pitch dark, almost suddenly. This had never happened before! He felt a hint of perspiration. He paddled on faster.

He was not sure what happened. All he remembered there was a loud noise, then he was yanked off the bicycle. His right knee was badly bruised, and he was lying prostrate on his face. After staggering onto his feet, he groped for his vehicle. The front rim was badly mutilated. "Damn!", he cursed aloud. The visibility now was almost nil. It was clear that the cycle and Moti won't be able to carry each other.

Nocturnal noises had started reverberating. He decided to continue on Gyarah Number Ki Gadi(his legs). Moments later, another realization dawned upon him. He was on the wrong track! The darkness has fooled him into making the mistake, and it seemed he was deep into the woods. "Why all this is happening only today!", he wondered aloud. It was then he remembered his wife's warnings. He was perspiring profusely now.

He didn't have a good memory, which has been a cause of his embarrassment quite a times. But today, he exactly remembered every horrifying tale his village folks used to tell. It was not the time to rejoice at the rediscovered memory. It was time to scoot. And he ran as he had never ran before, untill, miraculously, he saw a road. He collapsed.

He woke up with a start. He was still lying by the side of the road which he had never seen before. It was raining incessantly, and not a soul was in the sight. Still in the fix what to do, when he saw a car coming slowly from one side. He decided to plead for a lift but soon realized that who would give lift to a stranger, looking like a zombie, on deserted road that ran around the woods. He decided to gate crash.

The car, strangely, was running quite slowly. Not that he minded it. As soon as car came by his side, he lunged into the nearest door. Door luckily was not bolted, and it took only a moment to get inside. The car was moving even more slowly than he had thought. He was about to apologize(for the forced entry) and complain(for the slowness) to the driver, when he saw there was no one driving the car! The driver's seat was empty!

Moti froze. His tale of horror didn't seem to end, or was it the end of everything. His voice choked, and it was difficult to make out whether he was more wet due to the rain or perspiration. His whole body was shaking violently. He remembered his wife once telling that spooks trouble the non believer's more. He already has had his fair share of trouble. Now it was his turn to turn into a spook.

The idea of spending his future in the woods or driving that car himself didn't appeal to him. This was a complete original situation. None of those spooky tales he had heard resembled this. And he would not live to tell it. He decided to do something about this. He would jump.

Mustering all his courage, he hurled himself against the door. The door was never closed properly, and down he hit the terra firma with a thud. Before he could gather himself on his feet, he noticed that the car had stopped as well, and a shadowy figure loomed over him. This is it. He closed his eyes. The moment of truth had arrived. The voice of that shadow was shrilling.

"Oh, I am grateful that I found some one at last. My car has broken down and I have been pushing it for almost half an hour now. Can you please help me in pushing to the nearest garage." Moti collapsed for the second time that night.

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