Karthik stared at the wooden signboard, the words "LIGHT IN THE SHADOW" echoing in his mind. As he watched, the traumatic memories of the cemetery played back in his head—the desperate voice, the twisted figure, the terrifying scream. He took a deep, shaky breath and stepped inside.
The place was a chaotic mix of activity. In one corner, people chanted around a smoking fire pit. In another, a woman was having symbols painted on her forehead. He was stunned by the sheer energy of it all, and a flicker of hope ignited in his chest. Finally, he thought to himself, I can get this ghost out of my head.
A man in a black jacket and denim pants, looking more like a security guard than a priest, approached him. "Hey, kiddo," he said, his voice gruff. "What are you looking at? This isn't a playground."
Karthik, startled, tried to find his voice. "I... uh... well..." he stammered.
"Look, if you don't have a serious problem, then get going," the man said, waving a dismissive hand. "Don't just stand around here and disturb the people who do."
Karthik tried to explain, to say that he did have a serious problem, but just then, a shrill alarm started ringing. It was the small travel clock he had brought with him, a reminder so he wouldn't lose track of time. Not wanting to damage the fragile new trust he was building with his father, he reluctantly turned to leave. He hadn't gotten any answers, but he had a new lead. He had seen several people taking photos and noticed posters with contact information. "LIGHT IN THE SHADOW," he figured, must have a website. He could look them up later; his father came first.
Karthik hurried back to the spot where he and his father had agreed to meet. His father was already there, waiting patiently.
"Appa, I'm so sorry, I was just looking at—" Karthik began, afraid he was late and ready with excuses.
His father interrupted him with a warm smile. "It's fine, son. It's your first time in the city. As long as you enjoyed yourself, that's what matters."
Hearing those words, Karthik's perception of his father, the strict temple priest, continued to shift. He was seeing a side of him he never knew existed.
They went to a shop that sold supplies for temples. First, they bought a heavy bronze bell with a clear, ringing tone, then some silver utensils used to offer prasadam to the gods. Time flew by as they shopped for everything on their list, adding a few extra souvenirs for friends and family back in their town.
By the time they finished, they were carrying three full bags. Karthik lifted one, and his father managed the other two as they made their way back to the bus stand. They had to wait nearly an hour before a bus bound for their town arrived. They boarded, and the bus quickly filled with people until it was crowded. They stood for most of the long journey home.
As soon as they arrived, Karthik, exhausted from all the travel and excitement, went straight to his room and fell asleep. His father, however, sat down at the kitchen table with a notebook. He carefully wrote down all their spending, separating the temple expenses from their personal ones. After he was done, he too went to sleep.
The next day, Karthik woke up and got ready for school. Before he left, he went into his parents' room. He gave his mother a new set of glass bangles he had bought for her, their colours shining in the morning light. He then took the rest of the small souvenirs and headed to school.
He gave out keychains and chocolates to his friends as soon as he arrived. During the break, he boasted about his adventures in the city, describing the tall buildings, the crowds, and all the different snacks he had eaten.
After school ended, Karthik went straight to the only computer center in town. He paid the owner for an hour of internet time and sat down, his heart pounding with anticipation. He typed the name into the search bar: "LIGHT IN THE SHADOW."
The website that loaded looked like something from a different, darker era of the internet. The background was a jarring mix of deep reds and solid black, with a faint, repeating pattern of ghostly faces that seemed to watch him from the screen. A crudely animated GIF of a flickering flame sat in the top corner. Large, imposing text at the top of the page listed their "achievements" in a font that looked like dripping blood. Scrolling down, he found a long list of articles with titles like "What To Do When You First Encounter a Ghost," "Top 10 Most Haunted Places," and "Are Your Children Safe?" The advice was generic, filled with superstitions and dramatic warnings.
Karthik navigated through the chaotic site until he finally found what he was looking for: their contact number. He carefully noted it down in his notebook. As he was about to close the website, a flashy, pop-up advertisement filled the screen. In bold, glowing green letters, it said:
"YOU TOO CAN LEARN TO HANDLE GHOSTS! ENROLL IN OUR BEGINNER'S COURSE. COMPLETELY FREE!"
Karthik stared at the ad, unsure of what to do. It seemed too good to be true. He decided he would ask about it when he called them. He closed the window, paid for his time, and left for home, his mind buzzing with a mix of hope and suspicion.