Goddess Of Banyan Tree

GODDESS OF THE BANYAN TREE

By: Kogilavani Nagarajah

I still remember it all clearly. It was a misty night. The whole surroundings looked mystical and eerie. The cold breeze was more of a torture than comfort. Even the bone inside my skin felt the chill. Sounds of teeth chattering in the cold was music to our ears. It was hard to let go the warm comfort of my bed. But my father was as adamant as always. He insisted me following him to his auspicious Banyan Tree. Or should I call it his precious Banyan Tree. Along the way as usual he said, “Son, I’m bringing you here because, if one day when I am no more, you should take over this tradition. Traditions should be followed to keep our family prosperous. Will you promise me that!” At times I couldn’t tell if he is just joking or he is certain. But I just nodded my head giving my word. For me everything about this banyan tree is spine-tingling and uncanny. I rather stay than follow my father in the middle of full moon night to perform his unusual ritual. Holding me in a hand, another hand clutched a bag full of offerings he walked swiftly along the path into the forest. The offerings consists of flowers, incense, camphor, cooked rice, fried dried fish and a black chicken. It’s always during the full moon. Full moon had always considered as auspicious in Hinduism. The tree is situated a good half-an-hour walk away from my house. One must walk through a narrow path in the dense forest until they reach a small clearing to find our so called deity. We travelled through the night, either in the full glare of the moonlight or in darkness. It didn't matter to me whether there was a moon or not. I was terrified by the sounds of the night; the rustling and crunching of dead leaves underfoot, the rattle of insects, hisses of deadly snakes, a stray hooting or long scary howling of hungry wolves. Walking through the forest was like walking through a hostile territory. I could always sense some invisible eyes looking at us from the thick forest. I could always sense that something sinister lurking inside the forest. Maybe monsters, ghouls or ghosts, only god knows what the forest hides from the humans. The feeling of being followed always overwhelmed me. Despite the fear for the unknown, the fear of the Banyan tree always overtake the rest. From far I could see the big eerie banyan tree. It looked ghostly. It’s strange how the Banyan tree stood alone in the clearing. It was like the whole space was reserved for it. As if it has its own gardener to keep it clean. Not even a single weed or grass around it. I always thought that the Banyan tree must have sucked everything else in its way. It stood there looking like a king. It looked majestic with huge bark, over grown roots and covered with thick leaves. The tree towered over us at 25 feet. If anyone would seen a strangler fig, they will know why it's called so. The plant is an epiphyte. It depends on a host tree to prop it up and entwines its way around the host tree until you can't tell them apart. Its fruits germinate at the branches and send down roots as long as the trunk of the host tree itself, so that it looks more ancient than it really is. I tightened my grip and grabbed my father’s leg. “Now, you don’t need to be scared my son. It’s our guardian angel, our deity. It is the protector of our family. This is how we pay our gratitude, we need to fulfil our responsibility. Don’t be scared.” I don’t know whether my father was just faking his bravery because I could sense that he too was scared at the sight of the tree.

Once we are at the tree, my father used to light the incense and place the offering at the foot of the tree. But the worst is yet to come, he would then slit open the black chicken’s throat and let it bleed while we chanted our prayers. Deep inside my heart, I know I will never able conduct such cruelty on an innocent animal! But I gave my word to father like a million times! Now that I think back to it, I should have questioned what my father did. I had seen chickens slaughtered for dinner, but never before had I seen one twitching before you while its blood gushed out through its throat. It’s disgustful to watch. After we were done with our prayers he used to pick up the dead chicken and smear its blood around the trunk, circling it thrice so that the bark gleamed and dripped scarlet.

There was always that eerie feeling I had, whenever I prayed in the clearing. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand and my body would go cold. I always felt as though there was someone or something peering at me through the dense foliage of the tree, as though a stalker is watching me closely. I should not have had that feeling in God's own dwelling place. Every trip we made, the more ill at ease I felt. I questioned my faith. I wanted to question my father. But I don’t want to end up bitten or cursed by him. He warned me never to visit the tree outside of our pilgrimage nights. I should have found that odd too. After all, Deity supposed to offer you peace and tranquillity, and you should be able to visit your deity whenever you wanted. But out deity is different. Our deity is reserved.

20 years past. Now I am working as a school teacher. I teach Mathemathic. I am very happy with my job. Just recently I transferred to my own village due to my father’s deteriorating health. Sadly he passed away just a week after my transfer. We were still mourning when my mother approached me one unfateful night. That night - a full moon, I remember distinctly my mother convinced me to fulfil my duty as a son. She reminded me of my promises I made to my father before he died. “Son, you have to continue the tradition. Traditions take a long time to die. Some remains. Ours couldn’t be neglected. It’s for the sake of our family.” His last words thrust inside my ears like a sword. I felt uneasy. The mere sight of the Banyan tree had caused unknown effects inside my tummy. Deep inside I just wanted to decline. But I promised anyway to make my father ‘leave’ at ease.

I thought I could convince my mother. But my mother insisted. She was as stubborn as a mule.  I couldn’t avoid her crocodile tears. Even though it is against my principles, I decided to pay my fear a visit. I gathered all my courage and started my journey to the doom. With offering in a hand, I was carrying a big fire torch in another hand. My whole being screamed in fear. How bad I wanted to just burn down the tree and end the foolish sentiment that had been haunting my family for generations! But I know that can never happen and if it happens than I will become a big disappointment for all. But at least I wanted to see. What or who our deity really is.

This time I was determined. Maybe the emotional breakdown I went through these few weeks had made me become determined. I wanted to see what happens after the ritual. I wanted to witness the deity described by my father, his guardian angel. The path through the forest remained. The feeling of being watched returned. I dare not to look other than the path. I could hear scary sounds the forest make in the night. I could hear wild animals lurk in the depth of the jungle. The moon was oddly big tonight. It added dim glow to the eerie surroundings, making it look even scarier. From far I could see the Banyan tree, waving at me to come as if it has been waiting for me for a very long time. It was a windy night. The rustle and hustle created by the tree sounded like supernatural whispers, possessing me with strange feelings. Once at the tree, without wasting any more time, I took out the offerings. With a heavy heart, I slit the chicken and smeared its blood on its trunk and walked around thrice. With each round, I felt some menacing presence above, hiding in the dense branches. After saying the mantras hurriedly, I started retracing my steps. My father always reminded me not to look back or wonder around after we finished prayers. As a child I obeyed. But now my father is not by my side to monitor me. I prayed for his forgiveness. Hopefully his spirit won’t appear anytime now and warn me. My curiosity grew immensely. They say, curiosity kills a cat. I’m not a cat. I’m just a stupid human I concluded later. I decided to stay. That was the most dangerous decision I have ever made. Which later I regret as the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life. I realised it was too late.  I lagged behind and chose a spot amidst a clump of bushes where I could be hidden from view and stayed still. I had to crouch to muffle my footfalls. All the while my heart thumping away at my ribcage. I was terrified. I know that I shouldn't be here. But I had to know. I had to make sure. I didn't know what to expect but I knew that there was something terribly wrong about this tree.

I didn't know who or what I needed to be hiding from, but every particle in my body screamed at me to stay hidden. I still remember how still the night suddenly became. The moon bathed the clearing in its pale glow, silhouetting the tree. I crouched there, insignificant, my knees hurting and my calves in a cramp. I still had no idea what to expect and I nearly turned back; but what kept me rooted to the spot was my heartbeat. I feared that if I moved, my heartbeat would give me away. My heart would thump louder than me crashing through the undergrowth.

About ten minutes in, I noticed one of the overhanging roots shift ever so slightly. I squinted at the place that I noticed the disturbance. It seemed as if there was a thick bunch of roots being lowered from the recesses of the foliage. I felt my teeth chatter and I fought to silence my senses. What I thought were roots, was a woman’s hair, a bunch of dark, straggly, long human hair. A head peeked into view; its hair stringy and lank. I could make out a shiny bald patch at the back of its head. From my vantage point, I saw it slowly descend down the trunk. It had pale arms which grasped at the bark of the tree. It lowered itself gingerly, as a chameleon would, measuring its next step. At this point my terrified mind would have believed that it was sniffing at the air around it. It crawled into my line of sight. I could make out that it was definitely inhuman.

"I had seen cats climbed down a tree before. Extending a paw at a time and then hauling their body forward. Watching a woman do this, upside down, was unsettling to say the least. Her arms was extremely skinny and in the moonlight I could see that her skins were peeling off and her bones were visible. She had extremely long finger nails, which created an unearthly scratching sound while she slide down.  She kept her midriff elevated for some reason, so that her limbs were splayed out at right angles. She gingerly squirmed down to the point at the trunk where the blood was smeared. From the way her head bobbed at the back I could tell that she was licking at the bark. I stuffed a knuckle in my mouth to stop me from gasping. Thin rags hung from her body. She licked her way around the bark and that is when I found out why she took care not to crouch too close to the trunk.

"There was another pair of clawed hands underside. She resembled a centipede. An ugly human centipede. As I watched in horror, I felt my bladder loosen and the stench of urine hit me. The warmth that soaked through my pants was oddly comforting.

My brain had shut down. I could not think. I was rooted. Adrenaline flooded me, yearning for me to take off, but I fought it. I fought it, till it hurt. The last image I saw was of the creature clutching the dead black chicken in her jaws - its severed head held by a string of ligament, flopping limply in her mouth. She scuttled up the trunk faster than she had descended it. My leg went limp. My vision blurred. I couldn’t move because I was too scared. I prayed to the real gods now. But I was careful not to make any noise. I don’t want to set alarm to the entity. Slowly I gathered all my strength and started walking slowly. But even with all the effort, I stepped on a dry twig and break the silence of the night. Suddenly, “Who is it” a rough terrifying female voice was heard coming from the tree. It was so loud and sinister, it echoed the forest. That was the last thing I remembered. I ran faster than Hussain Bolt and reached my home stinking with my own pee. The moment I step foot inside the safety of my house, I fainted! I was bedridden with fever for almost 2 weeks. I had nightmares almost every day. The entity comes in my dream every night and frightened the soul out of me. My mother grew worried. I insisted on getting another transfer and leaving behind my family and their atrocious tradition. I even vowed not to marry as I am the last heir in my family and I don’t want my children to inherit such a curse! Let the tradition die with me as its last heir. Soon I left. Vowed never to return.