Away from the bustle of the city, on a trip to rural Joyrambati, our member Ms S. De was kept up one night by a mysterious light and sounds coming from her bathroom. Was it a miscreant? Was it a ghost? Read on to know more…

Last year, I made a trip to Kamarpukur and Joyrambati with Support Elders. The greenery, the trees, and the village life were a welcome change, and I felt refreshed to see the unpaved, kutcha roads of rural Bengal.
At Joyrambati, we were put up at a nice hotel. I was assigned a room to myself. After dinner, I went up to my room. I locked both the main door and the bathroom door, and since it was an unfamiliar place, I shut all the windows before going to bed.
In the middle of the night, I woke up to a soft light flooding in my room. The light in the bathroom was shining faintly through the frosted glass on the bathroom door. I stared at it—a million thoughts ran through my head. I was certain I had switched the light off before going to bed. I’m not in the habit of sleeping with any sort of light on. I concluded that it must have slipped my mind—nowadays, I forget things easily—so perhaps I had indeed left it on. I was too tired, so I turned around and fell asleep with my back to the door.
Sometime later, I woke up to the light turning on and off rapidly. A fear took hold of me. The flashes stopped after a while, but I stayed awake for a long time afterwards. I didn’t have the courage to get up and investigate. I could have called the Support Elders team, but given that it was midnight, I decided against it and tried to go back to sleep instead.
I drifted off soon. Later in the night, I woke up a third time—this time to the sound of running water. It became clear to me that there was someone else in the bathroom, some miscreant who must have been hiding under the bed. He must have waited for me to fall asleep and then entered the bathroom to do who knows what. It was either that—or, worse, a ghost!
I harboured no further hope of sleep that night. I stayed in bed, quiet as a mouse, and waited for dawn. With the first light of day, I came to life. I crept up to the bathroom and opened the door a crack. I checked the corners but saw no one. I was baffled. Surely the scoundrel could not have vanished into thin air! As my gaze went up one of the bathroom walls, I noticed a gap at the top, near the ceiling.
Slowly, everything made sense. My bathroom wall was shared with the bathroom of the guest in the next room—two bathrooms, side by side, were sandwiched between two rooms. There was a ventilation gap, and if the light was switched on in one bathroom, it would spill over into the other. My neighbour must have woken up at night to use her bathroom and forgotten to turn the light off. It was the same light I had seen through my bathroom door.
My relief knew no bounds! I found it funny that I had lost a night’s sleep worrying about nothing. I knew a member of the Support Elders staff, Md Moniruddin, would be stepping out for his morning walk. As I stepped out of my room, I saw him walking down the corridor. I shared the story with him, and we had a good laugh about it!

(As narrated to Support Elders by our member)

A few days ago, we celebrated Rabindra Jayanti, an opportunity to reflect on the timeless legacy of Rabindranath Tagore. Our member, Ms G. Sengupta, shares how she and her family continue to cherish and find inspiration in the great poet’s works.

Rabindranath Tagore, often known as “Gurudev” (Honoured Teacher) or “Kobiguru” (Poet Supreme), was a polymath who made significant contributions to literature, music, art, education, and social reform—the list goes on. Born in 1861 in Jorasanko, Kolkata, young Tagore’s mind wandered freely in nature and among people, seeking to understand the universe and the human condition.
Like most Bengali children, my introduction to Tagore began with “Jol pore, paata nore” (“The rain falls, the leaf quivers”), ostensibly the first poem he wrote at the age of five, and Sahaj Path, the renowned Bengali primer. However, as a child and even in adolescence, I had not yet matured enough to comprehend the profound philosophical depth in his works.
As life went on and I gathered experiences, I awakened to the omnipresence of Tagore—his influence was deeply embedded in my household and the larger Bengali culture. I was fortunate to marry a man with whom I shared a love for Tagore’s works. Together, we grew, enjoying and eventually immersing ourselves in Rabindra Sahitya (Tagorean literature) and Rabindrik Sanskriti (Tagorean art and culture). We are blessed that our children have carried on this tradition. My daughter continues to engage with Rabindra Sanskriti in the US through dance, music, and philosophical discourses.

Tagore’s legacy is not just about the past; it is a living, breathing presence in our lives. His words and music continue to shape our emotions, thoughts, and values, connecting us across generations and geographies.

(As narrated to Support Elders by our member)