Mahalaya and the Rules of the Night
“Babu…Eh, babu…Where are you?” Sandhya called out.
“Yes. Ma.” A thirteen-year-old boy came running in.
“Didn’t I tell you we have to wrap up everything by eleven sharp tonight?” Sandhya reminded him. “By eleven, every light should be out and we need to be in bed.”
Babu looked at her. “Aren’t you being a little superstitious, Ma?”
“Babu….,” Sandhya sighed. “There are certain customs and rituals we must abide by! Now hurry up!”What? Repeat it again?”
Shaking his head, the boy went away.
It was the last day of Pitripaksha, marked by Mahalaya. Rituals demanded that families offer water to the departed souls at a river or lake. But the focus was not just on prayer – it was on the deadline. At 11 PM, the Amavasya, or new moon, would begin. Family elders had strictly warned that no one, particularly children, should step outside once the new moon arrived. This period was considered inauspicious for minors because spirits who had yet to attain Mukti remained near the earth, seeking freedom and casting evil glances upon any vulnerable child they encountered.
Babu was raised on these warnings. Dadu (Grandfather) had kept the Bengali traditions alive by recounting endless ghost stories, which he would listen with great interest. He would allow himself to be scared – just for a moment – before immediately shrugging off the fear, declaring it all perfectly illogical.
The Agony of Dadu’s Loss
This year was different. They had lost Dadu, to Covid and Babu was the closest to him. His final days had been pure agony, not just for him, but for the family.
The last few days of Dadu was spent in sheer agony. The moment he tested positive, the municipality officers whisked him away in an ambulance, and for two days, he simply vanished from the system. Even Babu’s own positive test had to be suppressed to keep him home.
When they finally tracked Dadu down, he was dead, and worse, his body was missing. Two agonizing months of searching confirmed the worst – a ward boy revealed another family had mistakenly claimed and buried the remains. The financial cost of their search had been ruinous, leaving them unable to pursue the truth further.
Ma was convinced – Dadu’s soul was not at rest. He was trapped, hovering near them, desperately needing Mukti. The family’s purpose this year was clear – they had to gather at the river bank on Mahalaya to finally offer a pujo for his liberation.
The New Moon Night
The clock chimed eleven, marking the moment Amavasya began. Sandhya had firmly refused to let Babu sleep alone. “No, I can’t take a chance tonight,” she insisted. “You will not get down from the bed nor will you step out of the room, okay?” She had reminded him.
Babu watched until his mother’s breathing deepened, confirming she was in a deep sleep. The street lamps outside cast thin, angular light across the room. He closed his eyes and forced himself to try and sleep, but after a time, a more immediate problem surfaced. He urgently needed the toilet.
Finally giving in, he slid quietly out of bed and tiptoed out. The toilet was far away, situated at the end of a long, dark corridor. The house was eerily quiet – except for the distant chirps of crickets and the occasional croak of a frog. The night felt heavy and absolutely still.
Relived, Babu walked back to his room. The long corridor was lined with a row of armchairs, a place for the family to relax. But there was someone sitting there.
At this hour?
He drew closer. “Baba! When did you arrive?”
His father kept late hours, working at a factory on the city’s outskirts often staying at the guesthouse. “It’s perfect you are here! We can do the Mahalaya rituals together tomorrow.”
But his father didn’t move. He just sat there.
That was strange. Baba hadn’t stood up to greet him, hadn’t rushed forward for a hug. That wasn’t like him. He must be utterly worn out, Babu decided, dismissing the unease that crept over him.
“Did you eat?” he asked quickly. “Let me wake Ma.”
“Nooo.”
The single word shocked him. It was so unlike him.
“What’s wrong? Are you upset, Baba?”
Baba leaned forward. “I have something I need to show you. Come with me.”
Babu felt uneasy. “I… I need to ask Ma first.”
Baba stood up, held out his hand and gestured Babu to follow him.
The Lure
The boy tried hard to protest. His mind rebelled but his body refused to listen to him.
Then the figure moved. He didn’t walk down the steps; he flowed, gliding toward the darkness of the lower hall. Babu ran after him in a frantic, desperate effort to match the speed of the figure. His body was entirely out of his control. He tried to scream for Ma, to break the hold, but his voice was gone.
The tall figure led Babu down the stairs, through the dark garden, past the still lily pond, and finally stopped at the edge of the dimly lit lake.
“Now, you will obey my instructions exactly,” the figure commanded. “First, get rid of that amulet around your neck. Remove it. Next, the sacred bangle. Good. Now, you will jump into the water. This is a crucial ritual of Pitripaksha, and I have travelled far for this moment. If you truly loved your Dadu, you will jump in.”
Babu was incapable of fighting back. His hands moved on their own, removing the amulet Ma had carefully tied for protection. He slipped off the bangle and placed it on the damp ground. The sandals followed. Like a sleepwalker, he moved to the water’s edge and took the final leap.
Before he hit the water, a pair of powerful arms snatched him from behind. In the faint light cast by the distant lamps, Babu looked up and saw a familiar face – the face of Dadu, his grandfather.
“Dadu!” he cried before passing out.
The Prayers of Mahalaya
Babu opened his eyes to find everyone hovering around him. Ma stood crying while Baba sat beside her, with a nervous look.
“What happened?” Babu mumbled.
“We found you on the banks of the lake,” Baba explained. “Our dog, Bholu, led us there. Your mother woke up, saw you were gone, and alerted everyone.”
Babu looked directly at him. “Baba, when did you get here?”
“This morning, son. I work late, you know. I couldn’t reach home last night.”
Babu sat up. If his Baba only arrived this morning, who was the figure in the chair?
The boy quietly recounted the horrifying details of the night. ‘You were wrong, Ma. Dadu didn’t come to harm me. He saved me. It was his arms that caught me and pulled me back, or that evil spirit would have taken me for good.’
Sandhya wiped away her tears. “He found his way back to protect you,” she whispered. She then addressed the entire family. “Come, everyone! Let’s go to the lake. We will pray for your Dadu, and we will pray for that lost, evil spirit that tormented us. Pitripaksha is almost over. Soon, Devi Ma will be here.”
The family rose, and walked toward the water’s edge to complete the final, essential rituals for Pitripaksha.
Glossary:
Dadu: Grandfather
Thakuma: Grandmother
Pitripaksha: A span of time before Navratri when spirits are said to be in close proximity with their loved ones.
Amavasya: The night of new moon.
By Sreemati Sen
Sreemati Sen holds a Masters in Social Work from Shantiniketan. A Development Professional,
she has specialized in Psychiatric Care of Differently-abled children. Years of experience in
Social and Consumer Research are also a part of her portfolio. Her stories have been featured in
various anthologies.
She can be contacted at Sreemati123p@gmail.com.
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