Who Was She 1

In everyone’s life, there are always certain moments, certain stories, certain events that remain preserved forever in memory. Some incidents end with a question mark that never really disappears— and such unanswerable memories claim a special corner of one’s mind.
Since I served in the police force, my memory is filled with countless unsolved cases, so it’s not possible to remember every mystery that ever crossed my path. Still, there are a few incidents that stand apart— ones that, even today, disturb the calm of my thoughts like a stone thrown into a still lake whenever someone brings up ghosts, spirits, or the supernatural.

Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Avinash. I won’t tell you my surname— it reveals my caste, and I want to remain simply a human being in this story. After thirty-five years of police service, I am now retired and living in Chandigarh. Most of my time passes playing with my grandchildren or chatting with people my age in the park every morning and evening.

I was never much drawn to religion, even as a child, so I’ve always kept a distance from most religious beliefs. As a result, I’ve always opposed superstition with firmness, and I’ve rejected any idea of ghosts, spirits, or afterlife phenomena with equal rigidity. I can’t recall a single instance when someone in my presence claimed to believe in such things and I didn’t scold them for it.

And yet… there is one event in my life whose meaning I never truly understood, and to this day, the question mark attached to it remains unresolved.

This evening, a few of us old men were gathered in the park when Mr Sihag began narrating an experience from the previous night— a supposed encounter with a spirit. While the rest nodded in agreement and began sharing similar personal experiences, I kept arguing against their claims. But obviously, among those god-fearing men, I was the lone semi-atheist type— so in the end, they had the final word.

Later that night, after returning home and lying down in bed, my mind was still restless, stirred by a memory of a similar incident— something I had once witnessed myself, a mystery I could never solve and never quite bring myself to tell anyone.

It happened around forty years ago, when I had just joined the police force— a young man full of energy, eager to impress my superiors with my performance. My posting was in Pilibhit, while my ancestral home was in Neveria Hussainpur, and I kept travelling between the two.

I still remember that day vividly— every detail as if it had just happened.

That evening, the weather had turned bad. The sky was thick with clouds; rain alternated between heavy downpours and gentle drizzles. The wind shifted from soft caresses to fierce gusts that threatened to uproot trees. Thunder rolled on and off, and the trees lining the road stood still one moment and swayed wildly the next.

I was returning to Pilibhit for duty that evening— this was sometime around 1980. The road was already in poor condition, and the rain had made it worse. My rickety jeep was doing its best to battle the road and the weather, but I was constantly worried it might break down in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t a trace of habitation nearby where one could take shelter.

And sure enough, after crossing Auriya, the jeep finally gave up.

Unwillingly, a string of curses escaped my mouth.

In frustration, I slammed my hand against the steering wheel. There was nothing around to offer hope— only rain-soaked trees swaying in the wind and puddles reflecting a dull sky. No houses, no huts, no people. In such weather, even stray animals were nowhere to be seen. I would have felt comforted just to spot one, to know at least something else was out there with me in this storm.

When the rain eased to a drizzle, I got down and lifted the bonnet, but I was no expert mechanic— certainly not skilled enough to detect a subtle fault. There was no visible damage either that could explain why the jeep had suddenly stopped like this.

Disheartened, I sat back inside, thinking what could possibly be done now. Darkness was spreading fast, and with it, any hope of help was fading just as quickly.

Written by Ashfaq Ahmad