"Of course, what's the bet?", replied Vivek.
"Know the cemetry behind St. Anthony's?", asked Ryan in a challenging tone, "You got to spend 10 minutes...alone..sitting beside a grave...at midnight"
"TEN minutes???", Vivek seemed to ponder over the bet, rubbing the rim of his dark glasses.
Sceptical of the bet being accepted, Ryan tried to imagine the amusement he was going to get if it was. How could this poor guy last for ten minutes in the cemetry? And that too at midnight? With its brazen walls, surrounded by dense trees - it seemed like a dark jungle bang in the middle of the city. Even Hercules would wet his pants!! There was no way Vivek could win, but the fun for the few minutes before he started shouting for help, would be worth it!
"DONE!!", came Vivek's answer confidently pressing his blind man's stick into the ground, "14th midnight. Its a saturday. Will meet you at 11:50 pm. I go in at 11:55 pm and gome out at 12:05 am"
It was a tragic accident which had taken the light out of Vivek's life - he had turned blind at the age of 5 - much before he knew much about life, lesser still the fears it brings. People 'with an advantage' could be scared faster, because they could see the scary movies and photos, visualize the stories making them scared faster. But this was where Vivek had an advantage. While others pitied him and his 'inability', Vivek knew that he could afford to be much more braver. How could he fear which he did not see? The cold, scary winds at midnight in the graveyard or the cool, relaxing breeze at Chowpatty in the evening - it was all the same to him! After all, how scary can a sound or touch get???
Saturday night was warm. A gentle breeze being the only reliever in the May night. As Vivek entered the entrance of the cemetry, there was absolute silence except for the barking of some distant dogs. Ryan watched on, as Vivek slowly made his way through the cemetry searching for a grave. The bet was to enter the cemetry alone, select a grave and sit beside it for 10 minutes. Vivek walked slowly, tapping his stick on different graves, pausing shortly, then walking again, when finally he seemed to pause longer at one of them. “Looked like he has selected his grave” Ryan thought, trying to smile at his own joke. He felt a little uneasy as Vivek cleared the grass and sat down beside the grave, his stick still in his hands (as a guard??) Ryan looked at his watch - 11:54 pm, it said.
Vivek was slowly settling down. He wiped the slight sweat from over his nose. "Its not all that scary!!", he thought,"Why do people keep weaving big stories? This would have felt like a walk in a park, had not I not been told that this was a graveyard..."
"HEY!! What are you doing here?"
The voice made Vivek jump. A tremor swept through his body and he dropped his stick. Who was it???? At this time of the night?? Was it Ryan upto some joke? No, but the voice wasnt Ryan's at all. It sounded like an old man. Yes, it wasn't Ryan alright.
"I..I am from Vishram nagar", Vivek blurted out. It must have seemed so strange to that man. Vivek had still not turned around to 'have a look' at him. What was the use?
"So, what are you doing here? No other better place to spend the night??", said the gruff voice, this time seeming a bit suspicious. Who was this man anyways?
Vivek had to conjure some excuse, lest he be driven out of the graveyard. Losing a bet to Ryan was the last thing he wanted. Besides it would have been 5 minutes already.Who was this man? Had he taken up somebodys bet too? The best thing he could do was to start talking and then rely on his tongue to come up with whatever excuse it could - he wouldnt be able to do any better anyways.
"No, no...I wont be spending the night here...I will be gone in five minutes..." Not even a shred of creativity there!
The man did not reply at first. There was a brief pause, before he said, "Boy, look at me first. I cant talk to your back"
Vivek pondered, took out his dark glasses, wore them..it was silly wearing them at night, but they always managed to grab some sympathy when needed. Would it work here? He turned around slowly.
"But what are you going to do for five minutes? Why are you here?" this time he sounded much softer. Maybe the glasses had done their magic! "Dont be scared, boy. I am the keeper of this place. My name is Paul D'Souza. Whats your's?"
"Vivek"
"And why are you here?"
Vivek's creative juices had suddenly dried up. Should he just tell the truth? Maybe that would be less weird than any excuse he made. "Actually, i had made a bet with my friend. I would just sit here for five more minutes and go. Thats it. I wont do anything"
"So???", it sounded like the lips were smiling now, "What's the big deal in that?"
"Big deal??!!!" Vivek muttered. It wasn't - until now. Why couldnt this Paul D'Souza just go?
Whats the harm in just leaving someone for 5 minutes and letting him go? Finally, he replied - "Ya...no big deal actually. Not for me. But for my friend, it is...ghosts, spirits..you know - the usual things"
"Hehe", chuckled the man, "Ghosts???? Spirits??? If that were true, wouldnt they have got me by now? I would have been a piece of cake for them - i have spent nights in this cemetery since years!! Although, the people dont seem to care."
"He is right!", thought Vivek. "Cemetries DO have keepers. If Ghosts existed, the keepers would be easy victims. But the keepers WERE very much alive and it WAS a job that normal people did" Besides, it was nice to talk to someone at this moment anyways (the bet did not have any clause against this) Morover, it gave Vivek the chance to open up a conversation rather than being the subject of investigation.
"People do not care? Why do you say so??", asked Vivek in a genuine tone.
"Oh they dont. I know that. I have been here for 12 years. And one fine day, suddenly they get a young man...he takes over. I was not even TOLD about it. So 'Why should I go?!' I thought. I will take my salary as long as they don't tell me. But maybe they WILL have to tell me this month-end. They cant pay two keepers forever. But I wont spare them either. I will take this months salary in ANY case. But its not the money part that hurts so much as much the way they behave now. I keep saying what a shoddy job the new guy does. But nobody even listens. In fact, they act so rude, as if I do not EXIST!! It feels so bad...You are the first person who properly talked to me after a long long time..."
"Hey buddy!! You win man!!",Ryan's voice suddenly boomed, "Its eleven minutes already and you seem to be in no mood to come out!!!"
"Hey Ryan, you have come??? Oh..its time up??", smiled Vivek. Felt as if he was smiling after a long long time too.
"But buddy!! I didn't know you had thought of this loophole. You were nicely talking away! But thats okay. I couldnt have done it myself even then, i guess"
"Ya", replied Vivek shyly,"Even I thought about that. But to tell you the truth, I was too scared to think of loopholes - I almost passed out when he called out to me first! Had never expected anybody else here at this time. But its obvious, it was his job after all"
"Hey man!!"... sounded as if the smile had disappeared from Ryan's face,"Who 'he'?? What job? Whom are you talking about?"
"Oh I am sorry...",Vivek smiled, "I forgot to mention...I was talking about the person I was talking to - Paul D'Souza. He is the keeper of this place. The poor guy has been kicked off without even a notice...But where did he go? I told him about our bet actually"
"Have you gone nuts????",cried Ryan. "What keeper!! I was jokin man!! You sat here, dropped your stick in between,maybe you were too scared in the beginning...then you started blabbering to yourself! Ya, it was a good idea to kill the time...but who has been kicked out without notice??? Who is Paul D'Souza??? Are you trying to......." and then Ryan froze.
He couldn't be sure whether Vivek deserved 100 bucks or a million. His stomach churned uneasily while his feet became numb - unable to move, let alone run. In the dim street light spilling over the cemetry fence, he could read the inscription on the grave:
'Paul D'Souza
4 Oct, 1955 - 3 May, 2005
He cared for the departed souls
May God take care of his'
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