A Ghost Story - Shadow Demons

‘Nizhal Boothangal’

It has been 2 years since I started working as an investigative Reporter but to my dismay I was unable to produce any breaking news article for my magazine. Hence when my friend from Nilambur told me of an unusual story that is a legend in his native place I decided to investigate it.

Pramod Nair narrated the following legend to me. In a sleepy village that resides in a hilly region deep inside Nilambur the suns rays are always filtered by the dense trees and greenery throughout the year around.Here people do not step out of their house alone after 7’oclock for the fear of Soul Snachers called as ‘Nizhal boothangal’ in their local dilect.If a person ventures out alone after sunset during a fullmoon day through the hilly region that has patches of paddy fields scattered in abundance the outcome is that you find his body blue and frozen lying in the paddy fields . His face will have a grotesque expression ; tongue protruding ,eyes bulging out of their sockets and the facial expression a deadly grimace of pain.

The local folk believes that the person was killed by ‘Nizhal Boothangal’. The grotesque expression happens when his soul is being snatched from his body by the powdery black mist that takes a human like form with a long appendage as its leg. People who have narrowly escaped death due to timely (or coincidental appearance of a group of people after a late night movie) appearance of people have lived to tell the grizzly tale of horror. We know that these forms are coming when there is a sudden drastic fall in temperature ( a chilliness) for no reason. The night atmosphere that is so vibrant with the sounds of the night life is suddenly silenced. There is absolute silence. A deadly stillness , a dead calm and then it begins.

A sound as if a rabid dog is growling. Then more sounds join in. All of a sudden the darkness around you start taking a human like form and starts to float towards you. Suddenly your shadow cast by the moon starts to twitch and flicker. You begin to feel the pain ,the nerve splitting pain as if your veins are being pulled out of your body. Your mouth starts to froath . Your bladder and bowls release due to uncontrolled pain and fear. It was at this point of experience that ‘Raman Chettan’ was saved by the timely appearance of a group of people coming after the late night show from the near by Talkies. They found him in a pitiable state, tongue protruding out, stench of human feces lingering around him and he was convulsing badly. He was lying on the ground

An interesting story, I thought. Most of them like this have been created by the imagination of the common folk passed on by the ‘muthachi’, to silence the brawling child. I called up Pramod who has an ancestral home in Nilambur. He told me that it was a big mansion. His father was a landlord, but his father visited the place once in a month. Pramod himself goes there only once in a Year. We both fixed a day. I was to meet him on August 14th evening at Kochi airport. At 7’pm. My flight landed at about 6:45 and as I stepped out of the arrival gate I was greeted by my friends Pramod and Sam. Sam was a total surprise, as I did not expect to see him. He was a mechanic running a local workshop in Fortcochin.

We reached Nilambur at about 11:30 in the night. We stopped at a local toddy bar and had a taste of the local ‘kallu’ and ‘Karimeen fry’. This hindered our journey as by the time we entered Pramod’s ancestral home it was well into midnight. The sight of the ancestral home struck me like a bolt. To be frank it was scary. Silhouetted against a moonless night the whole mansion had an ominous look. The rays of the bulb were struggling to cut through the dense darkness. It was throwing a faint yellowish glow that showed only the large wooden gate.

Pramod knocked on the door and after a couple of minutes it was opened by the manservant “Damodaran” who was well into his sixties. His toothless grin was no solace for us weary souls

After a hearty morning breakfast we sat together to chalk out our plans. The belief was that the Shadow Demons were very much active only during a Pournami day. Hence the whole course of action was planned ahead in weeks. Tonight will be the full moon day. Hence we were all very excited. We explained our reason for the visit to ‘Damodaran’. He was shocked, with a wailing gesture he tried to dissuade us from the whole thing. ”Mistake” ,”Mistake” he kept on muttering throught the day. We heeded him no notice.

The plan was to spend about 3-4 hrs in the night, out in the open .To walk through the unpaved roads that snaked throught the paddy fields surrounded by the hills. The hillside was full of dense trees. And I was sure once its night it will be totally creepy with the sounds of the night life.

The day went along uneventful. We had tea at the local tea shop with thached roofs bade of coconut leaves. It was good to taste the ‘Banana frys’ but the tea was too bitter. There were about 6 people including myself and my friends in the tea shop. Besides us there was the owner Karunakaran and other 2 customers. Pramod told him about our plans and introduced me as an investigative reporter from Mumbai. The smile faded from their faces when they realised the reason for our visit. There was quick exchange of frightened glances . “Kids, I know you will take all this as rubbish ,but do not disrupt the peace of our little village .Let sleeping spirits lie and do not meddle with tem. These things from the netherworld co exist with us especially in this remote village. There was another person like u from the city who came here before you 3 years ago and we found him completely paralysed with fear. He died a week later his body had pale bluish colour which even doctors couldn’t diagonise. These ‘Nizhal Odiyanmar’ are estranged souls who died an unnatural death and for whom the relatives did not do any ceremonial offerings or cleansing. They are caught in the netherworld, the twilight zone, feeding on the souls of people who come their way when they are in full possesion of the night. Especially trhe full moon day”. We all laughed together at the stupid and silly story that was told by the tea shop owner. The other 2 customers left the tea shop in a hurry.One was even cursing us under his breath.

We had our dinner by 9’0 clock. We played a set of rummy till 10 ‘oclock. After having armed ourselves with 2 torches, 3 sticks (there are a lot of snakes ,even King cobras , Raja Vembalas , as they are locally called , was in abundance) and a lantern we stepped out into the darkness. The air was damp and cold. We could hear the chantings from a near by house , as people were praying to ward off evil spirits.

The pathway was well lit by the moon light. Three of us started walking through the road in a single file. Pramod was carrying a tourch and he was guiding us through the narrow pathway. We reached a winding section of the road ; the road itself was cut through a hilly region hence it resembled a small mountain valley with high ridges on both sides. There was dense growth on both sides. Tall trees grew every where. The sound of the rickets filled the night atmosphere. We decided to have our rendezvous with the ‘NizhalBoothangal’ here. Pramod lit a cigarette and started to puff. We stayed in silence for about half an hour when all of a sudden there was a sudden chilliness all around us. There was a sudden hushed silence. We froze and then we began to hear the faint sound. An unmistakable sound of the growling of a dog. It started growing louder. Al of a sudden we were surrounded by this hideous sound. We were speechless with terror. It is then that we saw these creatures of the dark. A powdery black mist was oozing out of the foggy night. This mist suddenly started taking a human form. They had no eyes or ears. Only the shape of a human head with hands and body. We coudnt see the legs .In the place of legs it was a long appendage that swayed and wriggled on the ground. These forms started floating towards us. It was then that Sam started running. In a fit of hysteria he darted off into the opposite direction from our house. All of a sudden all the black growling shadows started following Sam. They all started floating towards his direction. We were paralyzed with fear. Sounds from our throat to call out for Sam was stopped midway due to fear. Suddenly the night was filled with a spine-chilling cry from the woods. It was Sam.

We ran towards Pramod's house. As soon as we reached Pramod’s house the power went out. The whole area was plunged into total darkness. The moon was shining bright. We started knocking on the door.
‘Damodaran Pillai’ opened the door. There was a lantern in his hand. Seeing us panting and speechless his eyes grew wide with terror. ” So you met those cursed beings”, he said. He pulled me inside; Pramod followed me into the house. Damodaran Pillai shut the door. “They will require a soul tonight. You have irritated the spirits. They will come for you both “. Hearing this we started shivering. Damodaran asked us to enter into the pooja room. He took an old copy of Bhagvat Geeta and asked us to start reading it. He locked the door from outside. Damodaran had kept the lantern inside our room. Only our chanting could be heard in the room. After a while we felt a loud noise. Like the hissing of the serpents. All of a sudden the atmosphere was filled with growling sounds. We started reading the bhagvatgeeta loudly.

Outside frenzy went along for sometime. Then we heard the front door open. There was lump in my throat. In the next instant we heard the spine-chilling cry of Damodaran. His cry was mingled with sounds of growling. We both fainted.

When I woke up Pramod was lying next to me. There was an IVR bottle dripping glucose into by system. We were in a hospital. I saw Pramod’s father sitting next to our bed. “ You are both lucky. We are forever indepted to Damodaran. He sacrificed himself in old age to the ‘Nizhal Boothangal’ to save you both. Looks like he opened the door on purpose”. We found his body outside the front door. He was all blue and his body was in a crooked posture. The creatures have been pacified for now. It has been a month after this incident, I now regularly read the Geeta. Now I work as teacher in a school. I did not publish my story. As whenever I take a pen to write the story I hear the sound of a growl. The words of Karunakaran chettan, the tea shop owner, keep ringing in my ears “Let sleeping spirits lie”.