The old man outside the Crematorium

The old man outside the Crematorium

The incident that occurred with my aunt took place nearly 30 years ago in a rural village in India. During that time, the villages were not as developed as they are now, and street lights were non-existent. Instead, people relied on oil lanterns to navigate through the darkness. It was customary for villagers to return home before nightfall, as it was believed that venturing outside after dark could result in encountering supernatural beings.

My aunt, who was in her 20s and worked as a teacher, had to walk a considerable distance from the school to her home. Sometimes she used to travel using the bullock cart as transportation was done mostly through bullock-cart only. On that particular day, she had some additional tasks to complete, causing her to leave the school later than usual and as she was late on that day no bullock carts were available so walking was her only choice. By the time she began her journey home, the darkness had already enveloped the surroundings, and the roads were devoid of people.

The path leading from the school to her house passed by a crematorium, the sacred grounds where deceased individuals are traditionally cremated according to Hindu customs. Naturally, the atmosphere around such places tended to evoke a sense of eeriness and discomfort. My aunt, feeling a bit apprehensive, quickened her pace. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an elderly man materialized and approached her.

The old man requested a matchbox from my aunt, explaining that he needed it to light his cigarette. Filled with fear, my aunt increased her speed, hoping to escape the situation. However, the man persisted, continuing to follow her while persistently asking for a matchbox for lighting his cigarette. My aunt's heart pounded in her chest, and anxiety surged through her veins. Yet, as she passed by the cremation grounds, the old man abruptly ceased his pursuit.

Relieved, my aunt didn't dare turn around to face him. She continued walking, focused on reaching the safety of her home. However, just as she was about to disappear from sight, the old man let out a sinister laugh and uttered a chilling warning, "Today you got saved, you were lucky today but you won't be next time, I'll definitely get you." Determined not to succumb to fear, my aunt pressed on without looking back.

The following day, my aunt fell ill with a high fever. It lasted for a few days before she eventually recovered. It was an unsettling coincidence, considering the encounter with the old man the previous night. Nevertheless, the incident left a lasting impact on her. From that moment forward, she made sure to always return home before darkness fell, regardless of the importance or urgency of any task at hand.

As it turned out, the village had a longstanding belief about an old man who would approach individuals who walked alone past the cremation grounds after nightfall, requesting a matchbox to light his cigarette. The villagers warned against acknowledging or assisting him, for doing so would result in him following the person home and haunting and tormenting the person. Fortunately, my aunt was aware of this folklore, and her knowledge likely played a crucial role in her survival that night.

The incident left an indelible mark on my aunt's memory, reinforcing the village's cautionary tales about the supernatural. To this day, she recalls the chilling encounter as a reminder of the eerie possibilities that lurk in the darkness, urging others to heed the wisdom of the village's age-old beliefs.