The Haunted House

Back in the 1970′s, we lived in a 2 bedroom cottage that belonged to a neighbouring family. They were great people. We knew members of their family quite well. We also knew that a brother, who was a dispatch rider in the Indian army, had died in a tragic accident some years before.

The house we moved into was vacant for many years and nobody told us the reason why. Our new landlords were keen to get tenants and reduced the rent considerably for us to take over. At first look, it was rundown and spooky. But being from a poor family with guts of steel, my dad taught us to rationalize all things that needed explanation. Especially ones that dealt with supernatural ideas or stories.

Lucky for us I had developed an acute sense of perception from the time I was born. It came into good use when walking home late at night, walking through graveyards and listening to my dad explain the stars in the sky and the complex meanings of life. My dose of philosophy came in my early years.

I also helped my dad carry his empty milk cans. At 15 years I was proud to be helping the family business. All was good for two years. And then… the trouble started.

A fortune-teller who played a small hand drum at 3 am some mornings said aloud in the stillness of the night: There is a spirit in this area and it will express itself soon. It needs to be let out of its cage!.

The ‘’sadugudu’’ man was a terrifying experience for a young lad more interested in girls than ghosts. I froze in my bed each time the sadugudu man sang his evil futures. Tamilians will tell you of the sadugudu man as an omen of bad luck. He was often described as a man who moved around in graveyards collecting hair and bone to concoct his magic potions. This potion was used in black magic.

Soon after the sadugudu man spoke his spirit words, the trouble began.

At first, the windows rattled with no wind outside. Then the curtains blew around with windows shut. Doors opened and closed when tightly bolted. The sound of shrieking, birds calling, dogs barking, windows creaking and those crazy, terrible screams that had no rational explanation whatsoever. What was this all about?

I confronted my neighbour about these disturbances. She just blamed the wind and the trees around the house. Never once she explained what the real problem was. Ah yes, the rent!

My Dad stayed cool. “It will all subside soon. Don't let the demons get you. Stay firm.”

The sadugudu man kept coming every night for almost two months. We kids never saw him. We never knew what he looked like. He may have been a demon for all we know. The sound of his voice was terrifying.

Then we heard him say that he was going to ‘’collect the spirit’’ in a bottle and send it on its way. He announced he would come the following night at the same time.

He arrived on the road above the house at 1 am. There were no passersby at the time. We were inside the house and he warned us not to take a peep at him. ‘Just stay under your blankets’, he warned.

The exorcism began with a terrifying screech. The sound of motorbikes roared through the night. the screeching of brakes, police sirens, ambulance honks and people crying- covered the night. What was the sadugudu man up to?

The young despatch rider of the cottage who met with the accident was wanting his flat back, we were told. But he was dead, we argued. Why would a dead person want the house back we asked? Because he has something hidden under the floors maybe or his death was a cruel twist of faith. He was about to get married two weeks before he passed away. The story told was both sad and disturbing.

The spirit wanted us out of the house- the sadugudu man prophesied on the last night. The next morning we approached the landlord. “Rubbish” she squealed at us. We returned for another restless night in the cottage.

A little past midnight on the 8th night of terror, a small fire started at the end of the house. Quickly it spread through the ancient wooden rafters. At the same time, we heard the sadugudu man, above the road, shouting at us to get out before the family was engulfed in flames.

We ran outside in the cold night. The eerie flames of the fire spread rapidly down the corridors and consumed the first bedroom. We watched in terror as the fire took down the old wooden rafters and the old glass windows popped in the searing heat.

Up, on the road, the sadugudu man was wailing. We could not see him but we heard his voice distinctly.

Next day, neighbours had gathered around telling us to stay away. This is a cursed house. Find another house they said. Don’t dare these spirits.

“I got him. I got him’’ a faint figure shouted from the roadside that very same night. We strained our eyes in the direction of the voice. We could see nothing. The flames licked the fence where we thought the sadugudu voice came from. Still no sight of the man.

Who was he? What did he get? Why did he come every day for 8 days and at a particular time to warn us? Did he really capture a spirit in a bottle or whatever?

To this day I and my 5 brothers still wonder what really happened in that house. We have all spread out around the world to rebuild our lives from absolutely nothing but the shirts on our backs.

We are all over sixty years now and the voice of the sadugudu man still raises the hair on our necks.

Was he sent in to capture the spirit he was after, or, was he the accident victim himself?

We have no answers………