Friday The 31st
“Do any of you realize what day it is today?” The Professor asked nonchalantly, his left hand casually tracing the outline of his trusty (and hugely rusted) dagger.
We all looked at each other in puzzlement, for we knew that the Professor’s questions are never meant to be answered in a straightforward manner. After some trepidation, Vivek ventured an answer.
“Erm...today is Friday, and Kali Puja...Diwali?” He posed all three answers in the form of a question. The Professor graced him with a condescending smile.
“Yes,” he continued in his characteristically calm voice, “it is all of those things, but it is also, and more so, two things else. Anyone?”
He looked at our befuddled faces for a while, and got up with an air of resignation. All four of us settled back on the couch. A story was coming. We all knew the signs.
And the Professor did not disappoint.
“I am sure all of you are well acquainted with the concept of Friday the 13th?”
At the mention of this we all perked up. Fans of horror movies all, we had literally memorized all instances of the series featuring the relentless killer in a hockey mask.
“Sure...Sure...Jason the mad murderer....”
“The hockey mask was a nice touch...”
“Did Jason actually die at the....?”
Our words were drowned out by a light chuckle from the Professor. With that same condescending smile he tucked a cigar into his lips and continued.
“Not the movie you see..I am talking about the concept. Why are Fridays and 13ths considered to be unlucky?”
I was clueless. Vivek tried to look busy with his nails. Nisha suddenly felt an intrepid urge to go the bathroom. Kunal looked as scared as ever. He never felt at ease in the professor’s home.
The Professor waited till Nisha returned, and then resumed his thread of thought.
“Many believe that as Judas was the 13th guest at the last supper...the number 13 is unlucky. And Fridays have always had a connotation of misfortune attached with them...probably because in the old days it was on Fridays that death sentences were carried out. Anyway, the two melded together in popular perception to give rise to the notion that bad things are supposed to happen on Friday the 13th. That’s why so many people the world over fear the day. There’s even an official name for the fear of Friday the 13th....”
Here the Professor paused a second to catch his breath, and then said something we couldn’t quite catch.
“Beg your pardon?” I asked. He cleared his voice again, and said in a slower, more resolute tone:
“Paraskevidekatriaphobia.”
“How do you eat it?” I asked stupidly.
“It’s not a food...that’s the word for the fear of Friday the 13th. It’s wondrous isn’t it, that while so many people are afraid of Friday the 13th, it’s actually the 31st they should be aware of.”
A sudden gloom settled around the entire room, engulfing us all in a thick miasma of uncertainty. For we had suddenly realized what the Professor had been driving at this whole time.
“Today is 31st October...Halloween!” Nisha blurted out.
“And according to the Bangla Almanac, it’s Bhoot Chaturdashi...the Bengali equivalent.” I added, perhaps a little to impress her as well.
Nisha didn’t spare me a look, but the Professor seemed glad of our having uttered these two phrases.
“It was also Friday the 31st of October, and also another night of Bhoot Chaturdashi, when I got this dagger.” He said triumphantly, holding up the piece of rusted metal in his hands.
Obviously, we were more than a bit disappointed. It was a cold and clammy night, and even though the entire city of Kolkata was decked up for the festival of lights, in this corner of the neighborhood where the Professor lived in his dreary old house there was absolute silence. Only the vague resonance of faraway firecrackers bore testimony to the fact that it was indeed Kali Puja. We had left celebrations at home, and come here, hoping for a better story.
Perhaps it was something in the air, or maybe our dejection showed itself on our faces. For suddenly we found the professor explaining further.
“But don’t think that this is just a dagger. True, it might not be sharp enough to slice even butter, but that is not it’s true purpose. No sir. This dagger is called Pretnash... and it is used to kill ghosts...”
That got our attention.
Pleased that his exposition had had the desired effect, the Professor picked up his tale where he had stopped.
We all looked at each other in puzzlement, for we knew that the Professor’s questions are never meant to be answered in a straightforward manner. After some trepidation, Vivek ventured an answer.
“Erm...today is Friday, and Kali Puja...Diwali?” He posed all three answers in the form of a question. The Professor graced him with a condescending smile.
“Yes,” he continued in his characteristically calm voice, “it is all of those things, but it is also, and more so, two things else. Anyone?”
He looked at our befuddled faces for a while, and got up with an air of resignation. All four of us settled back on the couch. A story was coming. We all knew the signs.
And the Professor did not disappoint.
“I am sure all of you are well acquainted with the concept of Friday the 13th?”
At the mention of this we all perked up. Fans of horror movies all, we had literally memorized all instances of the series featuring the relentless killer in a hockey mask.
“Sure...Sure...Jason the mad murderer....”
“The hockey mask was a nice touch...”
“Did Jason actually die at the....?”
Our words were drowned out by a light chuckle from the Professor. With that same condescending smile he tucked a cigar into his lips and continued.
“Not the movie you see..I am talking about the concept. Why are Fridays and 13ths considered to be unlucky?”
I was clueless. Vivek tried to look busy with his nails. Nisha suddenly felt an intrepid urge to go the bathroom. Kunal looked as scared as ever. He never felt at ease in the professor’s home.
The Professor waited till Nisha returned, and then resumed his thread of thought.
“Many believe that as Judas was the 13th guest at the last supper...the number 13 is unlucky. And Fridays have always had a connotation of misfortune attached with them...probably because in the old days it was on Fridays that death sentences were carried out. Anyway, the two melded together in popular perception to give rise to the notion that bad things are supposed to happen on Friday the 13th. That’s why so many people the world over fear the day. There’s even an official name for the fear of Friday the 13th....”
Here the Professor paused a second to catch his breath, and then said something we couldn’t quite catch.
“Beg your pardon?” I asked. He cleared his voice again, and said in a slower, more resolute tone:
“Paraskevidekatriaphobia.”
“How do you eat it?” I asked stupidly.
“It’s not a food...that’s the word for the fear of Friday the 13th. It’s wondrous isn’t it, that while so many people are afraid of Friday the 13th, it’s actually the 31st they should be aware of.”
A sudden gloom settled around the entire room, engulfing us all in a thick miasma of uncertainty. For we had suddenly realized what the Professor had been driving at this whole time.
“Today is 31st October...Halloween!” Nisha blurted out.
“And according to the Bangla Almanac, it’s Bhoot Chaturdashi...the Bengali equivalent.” I added, perhaps a little to impress her as well.
Nisha didn’t spare me a look, but the Professor seemed glad of our having uttered these two phrases.
“It was also Friday the 31st of October, and also another night of Bhoot Chaturdashi, when I got this dagger.” He said triumphantly, holding up the piece of rusted metal in his hands.
Obviously, we were more than a bit disappointed. It was a cold and clammy night, and even though the entire city of Kolkata was decked up for the festival of lights, in this corner of the neighborhood where the Professor lived in his dreary old house there was absolute silence. Only the vague resonance of faraway firecrackers bore testimony to the fact that it was indeed Kali Puja. We had left celebrations at home, and come here, hoping for a better story.
Perhaps it was something in the air, or maybe our dejection showed itself on our faces. For suddenly we found the professor explaining further.
“But don’t think that this is just a dagger. True, it might not be sharp enough to slice even butter, but that is not it’s true purpose. No sir. This dagger is called Pretnash... and it is used to kill ghosts...”
That got our attention.
Pleased that his exposition had had the desired effect, the Professor picked up his tale where he had stopped.
To Be Continued....
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