Ain and his demon

The jungles of Mugu (photo: Vivek Singh)

We were very excited that night because it was kind of a mini feast, and on the plate was meat. Our excitement, however, quickly turned into bitter disappointment and annoyance, because what was to be delicious food got cooked rather blandly (Sauji (the shop owner) was a close-fisted chap whose number one priority was cash, not customer satisfaction. I can’t blame him though; adversity brings out the worst in people).

Anyways, it was around 9:00 pm in a place called Bakaura, and our lodge for the day was a small hotel with a galvanized iron roof (oh, now that’s posh!!) in the middle of the foot trail from Humla to Mugu, two of the most remote districts in Nepal where I was working in, which ran through a dense jungle. There were no settlements and houses within an hour’s walk. That hotel in Bakaura was isolation objectified.

In the kitchen, with a bowl filled with meat is his hand were me, Vivek (a colleague and friend) and three remarkably garrulous people from another close-by district called Kalikot. The others were Sauji, his wife, and who could forget, Ain.

Ain was one of our survey helpers, and that morning, he could not go to work because he had a problem with his knees (we later found out that he was suffering from high uric acid levels). When I had returned back from work at around 6:00 pm that evening, I had a small chat with Ain because he was not looking good. I found out that he was also down with a mild fever, but he reassured me that it was not a problem and that he would be up and running the next day.

So, amidst all the know-it-all, pretentious and trivial conversations of the men from Kalikot, the outright disappointment of our taste buds and the blistering smoke from the kitchen fire, Vivek and I were still trying to have a good time. Meanwhile, Ain was resting in a bed.

Protagonist Ain with fellow survey helpers (photo: Tika Maden)

Because Ain was not feeling so good, his daal-bhat (rice and lintels) had already been prepared and served. Sauji called out to him a number of times, but he did not respond. We thought he had fallen asleep, so we decided to wake him up. Our concern started growing when he did not respond even to several nudges. I felt his forehead and he was burning hot. We were in the middle of nowhere, and apparently, this lad was unconscious due to high fever. The nearest health post was hours away, and there was not enough manpower to carry him there. It was then when the three blokes from Kalikot took notice of our concerns. “Don’t worry sir, he will be fine”, one of them said, dismissing our fuss as if it was nothing. At that point, Ain was shivering, and was muttering things off his mouth that was creeping me out a little.

According to Sauji, he was doing fine in the afternoon and the evening as well, and was scratching his head thinking what could possibly have happened to him all of a sudden. “I don’t understand”, he said, “He was doing so good, I even gave him a bottle of Dolphin” (dolphin, probably the cheapest Gin in the world).

So, this was what had happened. Ain was trying to recover from a uric acid impact and was resting, and had “helped” himself with 180 ml of alcohol, and Sauji was “kind” enough to give it to him (providing what the customer wants for their satisfaction; oh the irony). We found out that Ain had been sleeping the whole day without food and water, and had worsened his situation with Dolphin.

With that revelation, we guessed that he was dehydrated, so we tried to get him to drink water, unsuccessfully. All the while, the people from Kalikot were insistent that we let the matter go, and that he would be fine. Vivek and I were city boys, and sure enough, this was a panicky situation. Ain’s mumbles were getting louder by the second, his eyes were flipping and his shivers were getting stronger.

Now as I said, there were three people from Kalikot, and two of them were rattling about how they had seen a dozen cases like this, and how he’d be fine and how they had seen a couple of people die under the same circumstances (??). The third one had not said a word. Then, he decided it was time.

“He has been possessed”, said the third guy. We saw that he was tipsy, courtesy to Dolphin. “Leave him. I will take care of him”.

I feel guilty that I found the situation a tad funny at a time like that. I nudged my friend to leave Ain and see what tricks he had up his sleeve.

The man pulled Ain out of his bed and started with a tight slap to his cheek. At that point, Vivek and I were too rattled by his actions to do anything. “Mero Kanchu lai kasle samatyo!! Oye Bhut!!! Chod mero kanchu lai! (This is too good to translate to English, but what i can say is that he was talking to the demon who had "possessed" Ain)”, he said, shaking the life out of him. Ain had that usual mumbling and shaking going on for him. Before we could stop him, he started delivering blows to Ain’s back. The whole situation was down-right hysterical. We watched in horror as the man got more and more excited with his Kanchu (the guy was reffering to Ain as Kanchu, a term you use to a younger person with love) when all of a sudden, there was an “Aiya (ouch)” from Ain.

Ain was getting better??!! He started regaining his senses, and with each blow, Ain seemed to be returning back to his usual self. The man’s extreme drunken tricks were working, and after a while, we decided it was enough, and so, we took over. We managed to feed him a bowl of milk and rice, and by the time the bowl was empty, Ain was almost completely fine. The next day, like he said earlier, Ain was up and running.

Bakaura, where it all happened (photo: Tika Maden)

 Maybe it was Ain’s own consideration of being possessed by a demon that did the trick for him, or it was because the exorcist beat the sickness out of him. Either way, I was glad in the end that the three obnoxious people were there with us that night.

Ain’s story turned out to be a very entertaining anecdote in Kathmandu amongst friends and family, but my personal involvement that night made me realize that the idea of possession by demons still exist in these rural parts of Nepal (which is very sad). Lucky for Kanchu, it was that same idea (and of course, Dolphin) that saved his life.