~Soham Dhakal~
If I remember correctly, as a child, the rumors about Murkuttae Bhut had been very frightening. Now that I think about it, it was a deep resentment that could not be explained. Oh yes, there were a lot of “Bhut” stories that would send me diving into my bed to be covered by the protective power of the blanket. But Murkuttae was a different story. I remember vividly the first time I had the courage to inquire about them. I had asked my grandmother.
” What is a Murkuttae Bhut?”
” They are ghosts who have lost their heads, and they have eyes on their chests, and they ride horses, up and down that trail.” she had said pointing towards the mountains in front of the house.
This had been a very revealing conversation. I had heard about a lot of other kinds of ghosts, but every one of them had had a head on their neck. The power of my imagination had always been to assign monstrous faces, one after another, to these ghosts. Some had fangs to suck you dry, while others had horns to get you in the stomach, and others just were innocent looking to deceive you. There were also ghosts, with any number of combinations, of eyes, mouth, nose and ears. Plus the ones with empty faces. Still, every single one of them had a head. Murkuttaes were in a class of their own.
There were a lot of nights, I could swear, I heard horse steps and the explanation I was given was always the same. Either it was “the neighbor riding his horse”, yeah in the middle of the night, or it was my ” very creative imagination”. There were also a lot of nights spent pondering on the kind of existence these ghosts led. But after I grew up, I came to the realization, like every other educated rational being, that there were no such things as Ghosts let alone Murkutte bhut. It wasn’t until much later that Murkuttaes became a part of my life.
Up to that point my life was pretty straightforward, I suppose. I went through high school with the same determination and eagerness as the next person. The constant emphasise on education, the moral obligations to the bullies, the ever-present desire to be “cool” and the forever evolving list of friends and enemies were all a daily routine. It was also in High School that I learned the subtle pleasures of life, namely drinking and smoking. Not only did smoking make you feel older and wiser(very crucial), but with it came a certain degree of challenge and adventure. Finally, after what seemed (then) like eternity, high school days were over, and I became a college student.
So with a smoking habit, and an occasional taste for drinking I was ready to face the challenges that would come my way. For the next seven to nine years, my life saw more variety than the spectrum of Light.. From being drunk to being sober to being high; from looking for the “truth” to finding the “truth” to “what the hell am I talking about”; from “losing my religion” to “finding my religion” to again ” what the hell am I talking about”; from “evolution” to ” relativity” to ” Quantum theory”, it was all in there. From this big stew of depression, happiness, frustration, satisfaction and every other known and unknown emotions, I arose with a Masters degree, to make something of my life. I mean, to measure up my success materially.
Thus I entered the realm of Murkuttaes. It took me a while to figure out what was happening to me, although the signs were there. I was first aware of the constant pain in my neck and shoulders. That summer when I tried wearing a “Topi” on my head, the one I had owned for a while and which fit me perfectly, I noticed that it was a little too big. Being a logical person, of course, I deduced that the hat probably stretched a little. But then even my glasses seemed to have gotten bigger. Shortly thereafter, I realized that my head was shrinking. I panicked. What was even stranger was that no one else saw these changes in me. This made me rattle a lot, trying to convince others what was happening. The smaller my head grew, the softer my voice . My head stopped shrinking, and it started withdrawing into my body. The pain was immense. In no time at all my head had receded into my body. For a while I couldn’t see anything, but then my eyes emerged from my chest. From then on, the only thing I could do, was watch.
No voice would ever come out of me. My destiny had forever been changed. Once in a while, at night, when I make my rounds,a child will hear me. With much curiosity and determination he will question my existence,and vow not to be me, but in the end he will probably be one of the Murkuttaes.
(Source : Suskera.com )
