Gravel

The sound of the tire moving over the road with gravel on it. Girik
stared at the passing structures in the form of buildings. It had been
a longer drive than what Girik had expected. This client had requested
a home visit to understand an investment policy. The client was an
individuals with considerably high wealth, whom the firm was eager to
please. Girik’s manager passed on the task on Girik’s shoulder and
here was Girik driving through an area he had never been to before.
Girik did not mind, since it meant Girik could go back home early
after completing the work.

Girik stopped the car on the side, to have a look around. The network
bars on the phone disappeared and a cross appeared. The map on the
phone became stuck. The area was on the outskirts of the city, it was
a bit behind the time than the fairly modern city which Girik came
from. There were more houses and few apartment buildings which also
looked as old as the rest of the town.

‘What is a premium fabric manufacturer doing out here away from the
city?’ Girik thought to himself. He continued on till the point the
The stuck map was still showing on the screen.

The small town was empty apart from a few people who looked like they
had nowhere to go. The further Girik drove, the emptier the town
became till there was no one

‘Rich people and their obsession with living in isolated places,’
thought Girik. But this was not helpful, he couldn’t find anyone to
ask for directions beyond the point the map had shown.

The car came to a stop near a crossroad, Girik couldn’t figure out
where to go next. He looked at his wristwatch. It was 11:45 am. On the
right, amongst a line of shops, was a colourful shop, it looked open
unlike the others.

The door of the shop opened and Girik stepped inside to be welcomed by
the sight of an oddly eager shopkeeper looking his way. A clean shaved
man in 40s, wearing a flamingo-coloured t-shirt and blue jeans, a much
different attire from the professional shirt, tie, trouser and
polished shoes of Girik.

“Good afternoon. There is a fabric manufacturer who lives in the town,
Mr Bohra. Do you happen to know him?”, asked Girik.

The shopkeeper’s eyeball looked out of the shop then focused back to
Girik, “Everyone knows Mr Bohra in the town. What would you like to do
know about him?”

Girik was relieved that the shopkeeper knew his client, “I am looking
for Mr Bohra for work purposes. Can you tell me how I can reach his
residence?”

“Sure! You need to go back to the crossroad then turn left, keep going
straight, the road ends at Mr Bohra’s residence.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” Girik said as he prepared to leave.

“You should hurry, it might start raining,” said the shopkeeper.

Girik looked out, “Although it’s a bit cloudy, there has been no
forecast of rain today in the area.” And then Girik heard it, the
sound of rain. “… well what can be said.”

“Here, try some chocolate. This is what I make and sell here.” said
the shopkeeper pointing at a white bowl.

“Chocolates”, Girik said looking at the pieces of a chocolate bar in
the bowl. Girik picked up a piece of chocolate, and put it in his
mouth, “its delicious, I don’t think I have tasted a chocolate which
tastes this good.”

The shopkeeper smiled, “I am glad you like it. It’s my family’s recipe.”

Girik looked around, it was a small shop, the walls were arctic blue,
the shelves were all warm white in colour. But something caught
Girik’s eyes, all the chocolate bars were covered in red packaging and
nothing was written over them.

“Do all the chocolate bars taste the same?” Girik asked.

“Yes, they all taste the same”, replied the shopkeeper.

“..and you sell a lot? Because they are a lot considering they all
taste the same”, asked Girik.

“They are in high demand here. People can’t seem to get enough of
them,” replied the shopkeeper, “why don’t you take one for yourself.”

“I’ll take one”, said Girik.

“Take more, I will only charge for one, rest is on me” smiled the
shopkeepers packed six chocolate bars in a paper bag.

The shopkeeper escorted Girik back to his car under an umbrella. Girik
drove the car in a U-turn to head towards the crossroad. He waved at
the shopkeeper who stood smiling holding the umbrella in his right
hand.

The rain was heavy, Girik drove the car slowly, he turned left from
the crossroad.

Girik felt hungry, so he opened a bar of chocolate and took a bite out of it.

‘This is so good, maybe I can come up with a business deal with the
shopkeepers, these will surely sell well in the city’ thought Girik.

An hour had passed, the rain stopped and the house came into view. The
The house had three floors, it might have been a beautiful house once, but
the years had passed heavily on its existence and the lack of
maintenance by the owner was clearly visible.

Girik stopped the car in an empty spot near the house, he thought of
taking two chocolate bars for Mr Bohra since he was not able to find
anything else here. Girik paused for a moment staring at two empty
wrappers of chocolate bars.

‘I didn’t realise I ended up eating two,’ Girik thought, promising
himself to walk extra steps during his morning walk the next day.

Girik used the plastic casing of his office identity card to ring the
bell, since the raindrops had made their way to the switch.

The door opened and a grey-haired and bearded, slender gentleman in
white shirt and black trousers stood observing Girik.

“You must be here regarding the policy work. Please come in.” the man
said in a gruff voice.

Girik stepped in and closed the door behind him, “I hope Mr Bohra
wasn’t waiting long, I lost the way and there was this heavy
rainfall.”

The man stopped and looked towards Girik, “I am Mr Bohra and now I have
not been waiting long, follow me.”

Girik followed Mr Bohra to his office on the first floor of the house.
The stairs had been hastily cleaned. Girik entered the office room,
the office was in the same state as the exterior of the house. Mr
Bohra used a dusting cloth to clean the dust on a chair and indicated
Girik to sit down.

‘What is going on? Mr Bohra has huge wealth at his disposal, why is he
living in such conditions.’ Girik wondered.

“The house caretakers couldn’t travel here from their village due to
flooding of the roads..” spoke Mr Bohra sensing Girik might be
wondering about it, “heavy rainfall has become an inconvenience at
several places.”

Mr Bohra sat on a chair near Girik. Girik felt a silence was taking
over. He opened the paper bag he was carrying.

“I got them from a shop in the marketplace. They have great taste,”
Girik said, handing over the two chocolates to Mr Bohra.

“Yes, they taste great. Thank you,” Mr Bohra took the chocolates like
he was waiting for them. At once he opened a chocolate bar and took a
bite. Mr Bohra gave a sigh of relief as he leaned back into the chair.

Girik realised his mind wasn’t focussing on how odd this was, but it
was rather focussed on the chocolate in Mr Bohra’s hand. Mr Bohra
caught his gaze.

Mr Bohra’s eyes widened as he leaned forward “Have you tried this chocolate?”

Girik was taken aback by the question. Mr Bohra understood the answer
in Girik’s silence. “I will be back,” said Mr Bohra, getting up from
the chair and slowly walking towards the door of the room. Girik
observed Mr Bohra’s movement, and Mr Bohra was still holding the
chocolates. In an unexpected move Mr Bohra went out of the room and
closed the door.

Girik got up from the chair and rushed to the door. It was locked. Panic set in.

“Why?” Girik screamed, “why are you doing this?”

“You ate the chocolate. Once you have eaten it, you cannot live
without it” replied Mr Bohra.

“What nonsense is this…”, Girik stopped to think, to notice his own
urge to eat the chocolate since his visit to the shop, “it is
something to do with that shop correct? Let’s head there together and
talk to the shopkeeper.”

“You will never see the shop again. Once you have been to the shop,
you can never find it or its shopkeeper again. I thought once you
would arrive, I would ask you to buy the entire stock of chocolate
bars in the shop for me. But you went to the shop before coming here.”

Girik’s mind was in a mess, he was not able to understand anything
clearly, “What now?”

“Now, you will stay locked in the room and you will completely lose
your mind from not being able to eat the chocolate, and from there it
is only a matter of time before you have a heart attack.”

“Wait I can get more people here, I have colleagues at my workplace,
they can help us get the chocolates,” Girik took out his phone and the
The phone still showed no signal and fell out of Girik’s hand.

Girik opened the windows and looked out, there was nothing to support
his climb down. Girish screamed for help twice, but who would hear a
lonely voice in an almost empty town. Sweat trickled down Girik’s
face, he was losing his sense of thought.  If he could just get a
piece of chocolate. But Girik was far away from being able to think in
a steady flow of thoughts. The chocolate bar is wrapped in a red package,
right there on the shelves was all Girik could think of.  Girik sat
down on the chair again with frantic breathing

The door opened and Mr Bohra entered the room with a revolver. Girik
impulsively prepared to leap and tackle Mr Bohra and that’s when he
saw someone else behind Mr Bohra. It was the shopkeeper.

‘It was all a lie- the chocolate, the curse, the shop which could not
be found again, the mysterious shopkeeper. Mr Bohra and the shopkeeper
were just a pair of killers.’ This was the last thought that Girik had
before everything turned dark.

Written by Anuran Chatterji

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