Who Is Brahmarakshas? :-
“Brahmarakshas” is a term used to describe a demon in the Hindu culture- which has many years and featured in various myths and stories. A Brahmarakshas is said to be the spirit of a Brahmin who, after committing sinful or unethical acts, transforms into this avenging creature after death. It is said that if a Brahmin dies unmarried and without the proper death ritualsthose supposed to help it reach the afterlifethey either heaven or the next world-then his soul remains in tumult and turns into a Brahmarakshas.
The legends believe that it is stuck in its unrest and causes evil as well as spreads fear until others placate or help them through rituals.
A True Story About a Brahmarakshas:
A few days ago, I went to my usual tea shop after finishing work. Though I mostly work from home, I often visit the shop for some time away from home. That day, while chatting with my friends about topics like the Ukraine war and Indian politics, one of them suddenly asked, “Have any of you ever seen a ghost?” We all laughed and joked about it, dismissing the idea.
To our surprise, an elderly man, who was a regular but rarely spoke, broke his silence. “You haven’t encountered a real ghost, which is why you’re joking like this,” he said. Intrigued, we asked if he had seen one. Without hesitation, he replied, “Let me tell you a story from my family’s past, something that has been happening for generations.”
The man, Prakash Chatterjee, was about 75 but looked much younger, with a strong build that hinted at a sporty past. He always wore a white kurta and pajama and carried himself with an air of importance. That day, however, he shared something extraordinary.
He began, “Sixty years ago, I lived in a small village in East Bardhaman. My father was a priest and a farmer. Half the year, he tilled the land, and the harvest brought us food and joy. The rest of the year, he performed pujas, and the income helped us manage. Life was simple but fulfilling.”
Then, he paused briefly, as though debating whether to continue. Finally, he gathered himself and said, “What I’m about to tell you is something that changed our lives forever.”
The Picture of Our House:-
Next to our house, there was an old, broken-down large house. The last heir of that house, Prabhakar Kaka, lived permanently in America. It was said that he had gone abroad for his studies and ended up falling in love with a foreign woman, so he decided to stay there. His father was the only one who lived here in the village, so Prabhakar Kaka would visit once or twice a year. But after his father passed away a few years ago, there was no longer any connection between them and the house.
Today’s story is centered around that old house.
At this point, he paused. “No more for today,” he said. “I’ll tell you the rest of the story tomorrow. It’s time for my medicine.” Then, after paying for all of our tea, he hopped on his bicycle and left. Before leaving, he added, “Come early tomorrow.”
That night, I couldn’t sleep. The adventurer inside me wouldn’t let me rest. Fortunately, the next day was Sunday, so we all had the day off. We decided to get to the tea shop 15 minutes earlier than usual. Just as we were settling in, he arrived, and with a smile, he said, “I see you’re all here already!” He then placed his order for tea and began the next part of his story.
The Destroyed Shiva Temple:-
The old house I described earlier also had a nearly destroyed Shiva temple. Once, the temple must have been very beautiful, but most of it is in ruins now. The walls of the temple were cracked, and vines, moss, and algae covered them through their crevices, making the place full of mysterious age-old legends. In the center, there was an ancient Shiva lingam, around which broken statues and pieces of intricate carvings were strewed, reminding one of the previous grandeur of the temple. Sunlight entered through the broken roof as warm light upon the Shiva lingam; the silence around it added a sacredly nostalgic atmosphere to the place.
This was once the place where grand pujas were performed; but for many decades, no worship has been done here. The current heir’s father had brought this Shiva lingam from the “River Salmala” of Karnataka while he was the Deputy Collector of that area. He had come across it while bathing in the river. Later, after constructing his house out of his retirement savings, he consecrated the Shiva lingam there. Alongside it, he had planted a *bel* tree which, in time, grew into a monstrous tree. All the stories that will unfold later are tied to this Shiva temple and the *bel* tree.
One day, dad came home after his puja and told us Prabhakar Kaka had called from America. He said Lord Shiva appeared in his dream, asking for proper worship at the temple.
Kaka requested dad to offer milk daily to the Shiva lingam and perform the puja, promising to send money every month for it. Hoping it would ease our financial troubles, dad readily agreed.
And that’s how our story began.
Following Prabhakar Kaka’s instructions, my father began this daily routine on a Monday following the proper lunar timing of puja.
He would pour some milk over the Shiva lingam, offer it to the god, and bring the balance back home to drink. Initially, my dad was very afraid to go to that place, but with time it became a routine and the fear slowly dissipated.
So everything went just fine for the first few months. My father used to do the puja every day. After doing it in front, he would offer the milk to the Shiva lingam and bring the remaining portion with him back home for us. Well, everything seemed normal at first.
After my father had completed his puja, he intended to leave the temple when a sudden call from nature gripped him. So he made the half-filled milk pitcher rest against the great *bel* tree and went behind the thickened bushes to answer nature’s call.
But when he came back and looked inside the pitcher, he was surprised. There was not a single drop of milk left inside. What’s more surprising is that the pitcher seemed untouched-virginally-so there was no indication that even someone passed by it.
Just then Shyamol suddenly shouted, “Then who drank the milk?”
Anubhav, trying to find a logical answer said, “Could be that some cat or other animal must have done it!”
But there was an old fellow sitting quietly, who broke the silence. “A cat or a dog? Forget them, even a bird wouldn’t dare sit there. There was no one around at that time.”
This meant another mystery surrounding the whole scenario. The father could not explain it, nor could we. The milk was just gone, and it seemed no creature of living stuff had ever approached it at all.
*We all immediately asked, “Then who drank the milk?” after hearing this.
The aged man replied, “Wait, you’ll find everything.” My father went to home with the pitcher which was empty and also narrated the whole story to us. And the next day, again the same thing happens as before. Then, for another week, it went on this way.
One day, after my father had come out of the toilet, he saw that from a distance there was a boy around 13 or 14 years of age standing in front of the pitcher. He walked up to him and asked, “Who are you and what have you come to this bleak place for?”
The boy looked at him and said, “I am a Brahmarakshas. I live under this bel tree.”
Shock widened the eyes of my father as he heard this and fear welled in him.
The boy observed a panicky look in my father’s eyes and immediately spoke out. “Do not fear me,” he said, “for I will do you no harm. In fact I was terribly thirsty and on seeing the pail of milk, could not resist drinking it. But now I realize that I must have asked you first. It is for this reason that I am here awaiting you so that I can see you and apologize.”
The boy continued, “Five years ago, on the day of my rituals, everyone left, locking the house and leaving me without water. I was dying of thirst. I found this spot under the bel tree to survive. One day, I saw you leave your pitcher and go to the toilet. I couldn’t bear the thirst, so I drank the milk. It gave me relief. Since then, I drank the milk whenever you left. Today, I want to share my final wish. If you fulfill it, I’ll find peace and be free.”
Hearing this, my father, still trembling with fear, asked, “What is your final wish?”
The boy said, “Tomorrow, when you come here to perform the puja for Lord Shiva, I want you to chant the Gayatri Mantra for me.”
My father, now more calm, replied, “Of course, I will chant it for you.”
The boy then said, “After I’m gone, something will fall from above. Take that thing with you, and place it in the temple. It will bring you good fortune.” And with that, the boy vanished.
The next day, as promised, my father went to the temple. After completing the Shiva puja, he sat under the *bel* tree, placing the half-filled pitcher in front of him. He began to chant the Gayatri Mantra:
The Gayatri Mantra:
ॐ भूर्भुवः स्व:
तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं भर्गो
देवस्य धीमहि
धियो यो नः प्रचोदयात् ॥
ॐ भूर्भुवः स्व:
तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं भर्गो
देवस्य धीमहि
धियो यो नः प्रचोदयात् ॥
ॐ भूर्भुवः स्व:
तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं भर्गो
देवस्य धीमहि
धियो यो नः प्रचोदयात् ॥
ॐ भूर्भुवः स्व:
तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं भर्गो
देवस्य धीमहि
धियो यो नः प्रचोदयात् ॥
ॐ भूर्भुवः स्व:
तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं भर्गो
देवस्य धीमहि
धियो यो नः प्रचोदयात् ॥
ॐ भूर्भुवः स्व:
तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं भर्गो
देवस्य धीमहि
धियो यो नः प्रचोदयात् ॥
ॐ भूर्भुवः स्व:
तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं भर्गो
देवस्य धीमहि
धियो यो नः प्रचोदयात् ॥
ॐ भूर्भुवः स्व:
तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं भर्गो
देवस्य धीमहि
धियो यो नः प्रचोदयात् ॥As he was finishing the Gayatri Mantra, my father saw a little bundle fall from the tree at that moment, a sound from the sky echoed saying, “Thank you! Thank you!!!”
When he heard this, everything stood still. The air was light with a tender breeze that reshaped the atmosphere to look like a beautiful and peaceful thing. As the boy had instructed, my father took the bundle and brought it home. With time, our family’s situation improved as the boy had promised would happen.
Then, the old man declared: “I have seen with my eyes. And this very package is still kept in my family’s prayer room till date. This is the true story that has been part of our family for many years.”
With this, he concluded, “That is for today. The next day, I’ll tell another new one.” Saying so, he paid for his tea and, with his usual gesture, went off on his bicycle from the tea stall.
