Chapter 12: At the Cemetery Gates

“We’re here.”

After driving along a narrow mountain road, I finally saw the gate of Neemsagar Hill Cemetery. Only an iron frame remained, with several missing letters, making it look truly abandoned. I drove slowly through the gate and saw the whole cemetery built along the hillside. The first two rows looked recently renovated—relatively neat, with tombstones and stone bricks. The back was completely overgrown, the grave mounds crooked and covered in weeds.

Even the air here felt heavier, thick with the scent of wild grass and old incense. Somewhere, a stray dog barked, and crows circled overhead. The iron gate creaked as we drove through, making Sneha flinch in the back seat. Priya muttered a prayer under her breath. Her thumb moved restlessly over the rudraksha mala, lips barely moving as she recited the Hanuman Chalisa.

Those taxi drivers who refused us said this place was originally a mass grave. The district planned to renovate it into a cemetery, but as soon as construction started, strange incidents kept happening. No matter who they called to investigate, nothing helped, and the project was abandoned halfway. Since then, no one dared come down this mountain road. They say that on foggy days, you’ll always see someone trying to stop cars by the roadside. If you stop, you’ll never drive out again.

I remembered an old driver’s story—how he’d once seen a woman in white standing at this very gate, waving frantically. “Bhai, us raat ke baad mera dost fir kabhi nahi dikha.” I always thought it was just highway talk. Now, as the car rolled to a stop, I wasn’t so sure.