They flee from `curse of death’, village is empty

Hiraman Shankar Saande warned The Indian Express against going to the village he left behind. “You don’t know how the curse could affect you,” Saande said, fear rippling in his eyes. Like his neighbours, Saande is convinced that death stalks Bhendichapada.

It began on December 22, 1995, when the village chieftain Baban Ambru Saande died “mysteriously.” His widow Manjulabai says he was a teetotaller and a vegetarian. “He had worn the tulsi maala and taken to wearing saffron so his death shocked the whole village. All he was suffering from was fever. When it didn’t subside he was taken to Shahapur Rural Hospital, where doctors claimed he had jaundice,” she says. Hiraman claims: “Baban passed blood in his urine when he died.” Most of the villagers believe these symptoms manifested in all those who have died since 1995.

Laxmibai Daahu Saade has lost her mental balance and lives off leftovers at a dhaba five kilometres away. “What do you expect after what she went through?” asks sarpanch Dilip Adhikari. Laxmibai lost her husband Keru and only son Bhaalu within a week from each other in 1996.

The most recent deaths were in April and June this year. After the death of Bhagwat Ragho Manje and Prashuram Kalu Herad, families actually pulled down houses and took away all the tiles and wood to the nearby village Pimpalpada, where they live in rebuilt huts. Kalu Ganpat Herad, who lost his son, says: “I don’t want my grandchildren to die due to the curse, so I decided to leave.”

After they left, there were only seven families in the village. “They too left on August 3,” says Manjulabai, who is bitter that none of the villagers bothered to find out how she, her sister (the elder widow of her husband) and her five children would spend the night on their own. They had nowhere to go to.

“Both me and my sister didn’t sleep a wink that night as the kids slept huddled close to us,” she points out. “I had decided to work the land on my own and live here but my sister said I shouldn’t put the children to risk and insisted on moving to the sarpanch’s verandah.”

Her family owns 35 acres while the holdings of the others are 8-10 acres. Manjulabai thinks the men in the village have ganged up against her to take her land away.

“I am trying to convince my sister to return so that she can help me work on the field,” she says, scared that she will be reduced to the state of Laxmibai. “I intend putting up a fight and will not part with even an inch of my husband’s land,” she asserts.

Village development officer Y.J. Dhanake, however, thinks her conspiracy theory is baseless. “Why would the other villagers give up their own houses and lands only to take away hers?” he says.

Shahapur tehsildar N.P. Jadhav also made an attempt to instil confidence in the villagers to come back. “I told them to get whichever priest or tantrik they want and assured them I would even spend a night there if that would make them feel secure. But they remain unconvinced,” he says. “I have arranged a meeting with all of them again on Thursday to convince them to return.”

Thane district collector Mukesh Khullar said he would soon send a fact-finding team to the village.