Kundan | S01 EP8 -

My name is Kanchan Devi. I've resided in this village for more than forty years, and never to date has such a desperate crisis befallen us. John Matthew—the individual who proposes to take over our dwellings and push us out—is overshadowing our existence like an inescapable tempest. I am aware of what needs to be accomplished in order to safeguard our village, and I am aware that this war will not be simple. But to succeed, I had to make my husband, Mahendra Choudhary, understand the strategy. 

Later in the evening, as the winds raged outdoors, I shouted for him. "Mahendra, I need to talk with you."

He turned to face me, furrowing his eyebrows. "What's wrong?" 

"Amavasya is arriving."

"I know. What are you going to do this time?" 

"That is my problem to concern myself about. You only have to tag along.

Without another word, I took him to a deserted area of the village, where the air was thick with anticipation. Gesturing towards a dilapidated house, I said, "Do you see the house there?"

"Yes," he answered warily. "What about it?"

"That house will become the battleground for confronting John Matthew. On the next Amavasya, blood will be shed there. Get prepared."

And at the same time, in the center of the village, Kundan—my grandson—had spent the last month with me. During the weeks, he had caught hints of horror: the spooky garden, the nightmares, and the sinister new moon. Now, he feared the coming of Amavasya, expecting something gigantic to occur.

But while Kundan had grown intensely affected, Annu—his aunt—had become oddly detached from it all. Her days were spent with Rajveer Bhaiya, who walked her to work every morning and dropped her back every evening. He even joined her for dinner every night, sitting at the table like one of the family.

One such night, Kundan ventured up to her tentatively. "Aunt, you went out today, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Amavasya is coming."

She gazed at him, her face serene but detached. "I know."

"Have you given any thought to what goes on on Amavasya? And how Grandma is a part of it all?"

"I don't know, Kundan. I'm not thinking about it."

"Why not?"

"Just drop it," she said firmly. "And you need to stop thinking about it too."

Kundan let out a sigh. "Okay, Aunt. I won't. But can you answer me one question? What was done to my father in the garden?"

Her face grew somber. "Who said I told you about that?"

"I heard you and Mom discussing it."

"Ask your mother, then."

"She won't tell me," Kundan begged. "Please, Aunt. Tell me what happened to my father."

She paused, her gaze relaxing as she saw the desperation on his face. "Fine. I'll tell you."

Kundan listened attentively as Annu started her story. His father was an electrician—a man who used to assist the villagers with their power problems. It was on one Amavasya evening that the transformer by the old tree had malfunctioned, leaving the whole village in darkness. His mother had protested and cautioned him about the perils of the garden, but his father had gone out to fix it.

The following morning, his body was discovered lifeless. "It appeared as if somebody—or something—had sucked all the blood from his body," Annu described, her voice shaking. "He did not survive."

Kundan's chest constricted. "Should we learn more about this?" 

"There's only one way to find out what really happened," Annu answered firmly. "We'll have to return to the garden.

The next morning, they went to the garden while Kanchan Devi slept. A dark stillness surrounded the dilapidated hut where Kanchan's enigmatic letters had earlier been discovered. This time, the cot within it was vacant. Annu's eyes passed over the corners of the room to alight upon an old box in the corner.

"Kundan, do look," she breathed. "There's a box there."

They went near cautiously, their walk slow and precise. The creaking wooden box, faded with age, opened with reluctance. A pen was inserted inside a book.

It was opened by Annu. There were pencil sketches of senses of humans inside: eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body. Kundan had a puzzled face. "Aunt, what does it convey?"

Annu examined the drawings carefully. "These are the five senses. See, the eyes assist us in seeing, the tongue assists us in tasting and speaking, the ears assist us in hearing, the nose assists us in smelling, and the body assists us in feeling."

"But why are there marks alongside them?" Kundan inquired.

"Odd," Annu grumbled. "The eyes and tongue have a check mark, but the others have question marks.

Could these marks be about Grandpa?"

Annu stopped in her tracks. "Maybe. The letters were for him, so this book could be too.

As they delved deeper into the mysteries of the garden, the lines between the living and the dead began to blur. The villagers' whispers haunted their thoughts: the voices from the garden, the vanishing of Master Ji, and the strange occurrences tied to Amavasya. Their journey was leading them to a night when all answers—and perhaps even more questions—would unfold.