In a village called Mamudpur lived a young man named Tamirul. His family consisted of his parents, grandmother, and younger sister. From childhood, Tamirul was an exceptionally bright student. After completing his Higher Secondary education with distinction, he set his sights on studying law in Kolkata and becoming a successful advocate.
Following his examination, he began preparing for the Law Entrance Examination. Fortune favoured him, and he secured an excellent rank. The result filled his family with immense joy. Yet beneath the happiness lay a sadness that refused to disappear. Tamirul's mother had passed away a few years earlier. Although time had moved on, he had never truly recovered from the loss. Her memory lingered constantly in his mind.
Eventually, Tamirul moved to Kolkata and rented a room near his college. The city fascinated him, but it also felt lonely. Whenever his classes ended, he would often wander through unfamiliar streets and neighbourhoods, trying to acquaint himself with the vast metropolis.
One evening, after returning from college, Tamirul decided to take a walk. The sky was already darkening. He wandered aimlessly through narrow lanes and unfamiliar roads until he found himself in a deserted part of the city. The area seemed strangely quiet. There were few houses, fewer people, and an unsettling stillness hung in the air.
As he walked, he noticed an elderly woman standing beside the road.
She appeared frail and aged, yet there was something peculiar about her presence. Her eyes seemed unusually bright. She looked directly at him and smiled.
"Tamirul," she called softly.
He froze.
The old woman knew his name.
Tamirul stared at her in confusion. He was certain he had never seen her before.
The woman smiled again.
"Your mother used to love you very much," she said. "Even now she worries about you."
The words struck him like a bolt of lightning.
A chill travelled through his body.
"How do you know my mother?" he asked.
The old woman merely smiled and began walking.
Without fully understanding why, Tamirul followed her.
As they moved deeper into the neighbourhood, the streets became increasingly deserted. Soon they arrived before an old house. The structure appeared neglected and strangely isolated from the surrounding area.
The woman pointed towards it.
"That is my house," she said. "Come inside."
Tamirul hesitated.
Something about the place disturbed him. The house appeared to be engulfed in darkness. Not a single window emitted light. The surrounding atmosphere felt unnaturally cold and silent.
Yet curiosity overcame caution.
He entered.
Inside, the darkness seemed almost alive.
The old woman guided him through a narrow corridor. The walls appeared aged and damp. Strange shadows stretched across the floor. The deeper he went, the more uncomfortable he felt.
At length they entered a room.
There sat another woman.
Unlike the old woman, she appeared younger, though her face carried an expression of profound sadness. She looked at Tamirul with a strange intensity.
The old woman introduced them and then quietly left the room.
For several moments, neither of them spoke.
Then the woman looked at him and asked,
"Do you miss your mother?"
Tamirul was startled once again.
The woman knew things she should not have known.
He nodded silently.
The woman sighed.
"Some people leave this world," she said, "but they never truly leave the hearts of those who love them."
Her words felt hauntingly familiar.
For reasons he could not explain, Tamirul felt both comforted and frightened in her presence.
The conversation continued deep into the night.
Eventually he realised that it was nearly three o'clock in the morning.
By then, however, something felt terribly wrong.
The house seemed even darker than before. The air felt heavier. Every instinct within him urged him to leave.
He rose from his seat.
"I should go now," he said.
The woman looked at him silently.
Then she smiled.
At that very moment, the lights in the room flickered.
For a brief second, Tamirul thought he saw something impossible.
The woman's face appeared different.
Not human.
Her features seemed distorted, almost skeletal.
He blinked.
The vision disappeared.
His heart began to race.
Without another word, he rushed out of the room.
He ran through the corridor and reached the front door.
But when he looked outside, he was horrified.
The road he had followed earlier was gone.
Everything around him was shrouded in darkness.
The entire neighbourhood seemed transformed into an endless sea of shadows.
Panicking, he turned back.
The old woman stood behind him.
This time her smile was different.
It was no longer warm.
It was terrifying.
"Why are you afraid?" she asked softly.
Tamirul could not answer.
The old woman stepped closer.
Then she spoke words that chilled his blood.
"The woman you met inside was your mother's closest friend."
Tamirul stared at her.
The old woman continued.
"Long ago, she died."
The world seemed to stop.
Tamirul felt the blood drain from his face.
Dead?
Then who had been speaking to him?
The old woman looked into his eyes and smiled.
"A mother's love never ends," she whispered. "Even death cannot erase it."
The darkness around them seemed to deepen.
Tamirul wanted to run, yet his legs refused to move.
The old woman pointed towards the house once more.
In that instant, he realised a horrifying truth.
Neither the old woman nor the younger woman belonged to the world of the living.
The house itself was no ordinary house.
It was a place where the boundary between the living and the dead had grown thin.
A cold wind swept through the darkness.
The old woman slowly began walking back toward the house.
The younger woman appeared once more in the doorway, silently watching him.
Neither spoke.
Neither blinked.
They simply stared.
Tamirul gathered every ounce of courage he possessed and fled into the night.
He never returned to that neighbourhood again.
Yet even years later, whenever darkness settled over the city and the streets grew silent, he could not forget the old woman, the strange house, and the horrifying realisation that some doors, once opened, reveal things that human beings were never meant to see.
Translated and Edited by- Akash Paul.
About the Author:
Sayonika Das is a 13-year-old student of Bagati Shib Chandra Banerjee Girls' Higher Secondary School. A creative and enthusiastic young learner, she enjoys painting in her free time and expresses her imagination through art. English is her favourite subject, and she is passionate about improving her language and communication skills. Ambitious and determined, Sayonika dreams of becoming a pilot and soaring high in the skies one day. With her dedication, curiosity, and artistic spirit, she represents the aspirations of a new generation of young achievers.
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