The Voice in the Woods

This happened back in 1996 when I was 9. My paternal grandmother had passed away and the entire family was congregating at my grandparents’ ancestral home to prepare for the funeral. Their house was on the outskirts of a small town, approximately four hours away from where I lived.

The striking thing about that house is that it is in the middle of the forest, with the nearest village being some five kilometres away.

Since many people (around 24 people) were going we were travelling in groups. My group consisted of four kids (my two siblings and two cousins) and an aunt, who was sort of our supervisor.

By the time we reached, the sun had almost retired for the day. This was a problem as back then, there wasn't a motorable road that went directly to the house, instead, there was a narrow hiking trail (of approximately 8 km) that was used by everyone living in that area.

All of us kids were afraid to take that trail at that time of day as we knew the lonely, narrow path could be pretty spooky, especially at night. However, since there was no other option we had no choice but to walk. As we entered the trail, all of us were shit scared but my aunt, who had grown up in the area assured us that there was nothing to be worried about.

Her assurances did nothing to elevate our concerns as fear had already taken hold of us. Even the innocent sounds of the forests made us jump and we could see sinister-looking shadows forming everywhere as the light from our torches illuminated the trees, bamboo groves and other plants that surrounded the trail.

However, nothing happened and all of us gave a sigh of relief as the old house finally came into view after almost an hour of hiking.

My other family members and relatives were already there with my grandmother's dead body and soon enough all of us got chatting. After a hearty dinner, it was soon time for bed, and as it was being decided who would sleep where, the adults realized that there weren't enough blankets to go around. So, after a brief discussion, everyone agreed that some of us needed to get some from our relative's house, which was in the nearest village, some 5 km away.

No one volunteered to go as everyone was feeling tired after a very long day. Someone suggested that my cousin, Bibek (who had been in my group), and I (the only male kids in the family) should go. After having just come from that terrifying hike, both of us were naturally hesitant. We started making excuses, pretending that our legs were hurting but no one believed us as earlier we had been boasting that the hike had been a piece of cake and it had not exhausted us at all. Nevertheless, we continued to protest but after our other cousins started questioning our guts, we reluctantly agreed.

Both of us knew the route pretty well so no one was worried about us getting lost on the way. Also, the area was pretty safe, with crime almost non-existent at the time. We were both given fire torches (called “Pultho” in Nepali) and we were soon on our way.

We speed-walked side by side, maintaining a steady pace without uttering a single word to each other. Though we had acted somewhat bravely in front of everyone, we were, in reality, pretty spooked out, and the only thing running through our heads was to collect the blankets and get back as fast as possible. Normally we would have stopped and eaten some ripe cardamoms (a part of the trail - from the beginning of my grandparent's house to about halfway to my relative’s house - was surrounded by a pretty sizeable cardamom field that our grandparents owned) on the way, but that night we didn't dare do that.

We reached our relative’s house in around 25 mins, collected the blankets, and after politely refusing refreshments, we were soon on our way back. Somewhere on the trail, there was a brook and it was rumoured that it was haunted (In Nepali lore, streams are usually haunted by banshees, especially at night). This thought hadn't crossed my mind before, but this time, as we reached the brook I could think of nothing else.

I gave a quick glance towards Bibek, he too looked petrified. The brook looked eerie in the light of our fire torches and I thought I could hear other things apart from the sound of the gushing water. I just wanted to get out there as fast as possible and I could see Bibek shared my sentiments.

However, we were not able to walk briskly this time around because of the load of the blankets. Nevertheless, we quickened our pace and gave a sigh of relief as the sound of the gushing water slowly faded in the distance.

We then reached, a sort of a small clearing with a thin cover of trees when it happened...

Out of the blue, a clear male voice (as if it was coming out of an amp) broke the eerie silence, making us jump as if we were on a trampoline.

It announced in Nepali, “I’m a spirit of this forest and I live on the foot of this tree.”

Before I could figure out if he’d finished talking or which tree he was referring to, Bibek - his courage abandoning him completely - tossed the blankets and his fire torch aside and dashed straight into the cardamom field.

In almost an instant, without any thought, I too threw my load and bolted. However, I didn't follow Bibek into the cardamom field, preferring to take the trail instead. With adrenaline rushing through my system, I sprinted like Usain Bolt, reaching the house in less than 4 minutes. At almost the same time, I heard some rustling in the cardamom field near the house and saw Bibek dashing towards me, panting heavily. Both of us were completely out of breath but we still ran inside. Everyone was shocked to see us in such a state.

Finally, after catching our breaths, we narrated the incident but no one seemed to believe us. They thought that we merely got scared and imagined everything or someone had played a prank on us. We desperately tried to convince them but our pleas fell on deaf ears.

I don’t know what really happened that evening but Bibek and I are convinced that we had a paranormal experience…