Kasol.

Far away in the mountains, a small neglected town in the middle of the Himalayas, with tall deodars and freshwater bodies. Amidst the Parvati valley in the present state of Himachal Pradesh lies Kasol.

The night I booked the tickets for my journey to Kasol, I didn't have any slightest idea about that place. But as the dots were connecting I was going along. The next morning I caught the bus to Kasol, and it took me around fourteen hours from Delhi to reach there.

I see mountains, the Himalayas, striding away into an immensity of sky. As I saw the glory of mountains I remembered a quote from Ruskin Bond's book "In a thousand ages of gods I could not tell thee of the glories of Himachal"

Life is incredibly unpredictable. Just yesterday, I found myself lost in daydreams and consumed by worries about my project in Delhi. Yet, here I am today, unexpectedly in Kasol. The purpose of my journey is research-related, and it has led me to discover that the locals have reported witnessing a remarkable phenomenon. They claim to have seen a towering shadow, measuring over seven feet, wandering the streets of their towns. Opinions on the identity of this mysterious figure vary, with some attributing it to the mythical creature known as the yeti, while others believe it to be Ashwatthama.

I cannot provide an answer until I have the opportunity to observe him, as archaeologists rely on evidence rather than anecdotes. However, my immediate priority is to secure a place of residence. This process may take up to a month, during which I will need to rent a small room that meets my basic requirements.

An expedition to find a kind stay, along a well-defined mule track, took nearly two hours. I went through the main bazaar, an old ruptured post office, and a small not so good looking police station.

Finally, after a discussion found a home sweet home, this house was built in the old-fashioned style of kumaoni kulak haveli. The ground floor had a huge pillared verandah and a covered space for milch animals. A central staircase led upstairs to a huge living room. I got the entire living room along with a small kitchen space and a sleeping room with an open balcony. I loved that place.

Mrs. Shanti, an elderly woman, resided in this house along with her sons and grandsons. However, they have recently relocated to larger cities in search of better job prospects. Consequently, the house now stands vacant and desolate, enveloped in an eerie silence.

Since the last road incident, I haven't experienced any of those dreams. It's quite peculiar. His face appears blurry, and his abnormally large muscles simply fascinate me. I struggle to identify the tingling sensation that overwhelms me whenever he crosses my mind.

"If you want anything, you can always call me," said Mrs. Shanti

"Can I call you Dadi"? I asked her kindly.

"Of course, you can beta. Nobody's there in this empty old house to look after me, to talk to me I'd love to hear from you" she said with teary eyes, her wrinkles and loose skin made me feel sad for her. I wanted to stay with her forever.

"oh Dad, I'm here na don't worry" I just wanted to make her feel comfy.

At approximately three o'clock in the afternoon, I observed illuminated chimneys, which struck me as quite peculiar. The pace at which people move in this vicinity is remarkably swift.

"dadi, why everyone is making dinner so early? " I asked her out of curiosity. She too was preparing a small meal for both of us.

"Because, it.. It's.. As.. you'll get food in twenty minutes go to bed before five pm". She said somewhat rude. I felt weird.

"dadi, tell me naa what is it. Why is everyone in so much rush"?

she was preparing dal and rice along with some kaccha aloo ki bhaji and bajra roti local Himachali thali.

"Today is amavas," she said stirring the raw rice.

"amavas? So..umm. Ghost? " I said paying every bit of attention to her story.

With a hint of uncertainty in her voice, she remarked that "whatever it was, it posed a greater danger than a ghost—a peculiar being that remained alive but was devoid of life." Pausing her stirring, she proceeded with her explanation.

"you can never imagine what it looks like, from where it comes but if you see him, you'd probably die"

"what?? is that any animal? Have you seen it"? I said getting a little serious, the stillness around the house was making every bit of our conversation sound frightening

"If it was an animal, people would have killed him but he is something supernatural, which cannot be killed. He's immortal.

I was taken aback by her words, immortal? Did she really say that? It completely caught me off guard. The project I had been dedicating myself to suddenly took on a whole new dimension. She had just presented me with an entirely new challenge to conquer. I couldn't help but tremble with excitement.

"he—? He's a man—?"

"Man— he's A God, who does not die. The one who was cursed to live till eternity."

She was texting my patience, why was she not telling me his name.

"Goddamnit, please dadi who is it, where he lives?"

It is widely believed that he hails from Pari Tibba, the enchanting mountain. There exists a location so breathtaking that it remains inaccessible to humans, a place where only God dwells. This divine abode boasts crystal clear water adorned with countless flowers and Ayurvedic herbs possessing the power to heal any ailment known to mankind. The air in this heavenly realm is remarkably pure, serving as the habitat for fairies who frolic amidst gardens adorned with marigolds and Jasmines.

"Woah, do such places exist what is that place called? "

"Malana."

However, this mythical creature is solely a part of our local narratives and traditional tales; it has never been witnessed in reality. Individuals who ventured out in pursuit of it, known as pari tibba, have never come back.

I inquired about the identity of the immortal God, as I was astounded by her description of him as being from such a beautiful place, yet incredibly dangerous. She elaborated on the charm of that location, while expressing her fear towards that man.

"Ashwatthama".