The most surreal place I've ever been (and why no one talks about it)

Many of us encounter strange, unreal or “surreal” experiences while traveling. Sometimes the experience is due to the beauty of nature, sometimes to the diversity of culture, and sometimes for some reason that cannot be explained. Today I will tell the story of one such place—one that is so remote and strange that even when I close my eyes, I can still feel its smells, sounds and atmosphere. The most surprising thing is that very few people know about this place or nobody talks about it.

The name of this place is Jarmandap—a village next to a dilapidated crematorium in a remote part of West Bengal, India. You won’t find it on Google Maps, and the locals don’t even want to pronounce the name. I went here at the request of a friend who was doing a thesis on a folk tale and needed to collect some local information.

First Look

When we reached the village, it was evening. As the sun set, the whole atmosphere changed. The village was surrounded by dense forests, with rocky paths in between, and the doors of every house seemed to have been closed before our arrival. The air was heavy—no stench, no fragrance—an “hollow smell” that can only be felt in a dead place.

On the edge of the village was the old crematorium—the Jarmandap. It was like a place stuck in a time lapse. There was no fire, no smoke from the pyre, but there were countless piles of burnt wood, black ash, and traces of people’s unspoken tears. The hairs on my body stood up, because it felt like someone was watching me—from behind, through the trees, from within the darkness.

The strange character of the place

My friend, who was doing research, said that this place was once known as the “Gate of Liberation.” According to local belief, if someone sacrificed themselves on the pyre at the Jarmandap, they would be liberated in rebirth. Hearing that, I shivered. No one provides evidence or information, but as the night goes on, a strange sound comes from afar—an ancient mantra or a cry, it is unclear.

We stayed in the only open house in the village that night. Suddenly, in the middle of the night, there was a banging sound on the door, the window curtains started moving, and our mobile screen suddenly turned on by itself and started flashing the name “Jardamandap”. My girlfriend said, “They don’t want us to live here.” Who are they? I didn’t ask. I didn’t have the courage.

Why doesn’t anyone talk?

Very little information is available about the Jaramandap. The local administration has declared the place forbidden. Local people say that people who come here lose their mental balance or never return. That’s why no one wants to go here, no one talks.

In my opinion, this silence—this “silence”—is the most terrifying. Because what we don’t say, what we suppress, is what creates fear within us. The shrine is not just a place, it is a kind of existence, where reality and unreality are intertwined.

A context for American readers

If you live in the United States and have heard stories about Appalachian myths, the Winchester Mystery House, or Skinwalker Ranch, you might think of the shrine as an Eastern counterpart to them. But set in a completely different culture, where the soul, reincarnation, and salvation are intertwined.

This experience was unreal to me because it was not only terrifying, but also created a kind of spiritual unrest. I couldn’t sleep for a few days after I returned. It was as if the shrine had returned to me in my sleep—with darkness, shadows, and that “empty smell.”

Conclusion

I have been to many places in my life—mountains in North America, castles in Europe, sacred sites in Asia, but I have never seen a place like the shrine. It is a place that no camera can fully capture, that no words can explain.

My request is, if you ever have the courage, to explore the Jaramandap for yourself. But be warned—not all experiences are for everyone. There are some places that should not just be “seen”—but rather understood, why they are so quiet.