Lambi Dehar in Mussoorie is believed to be the "most haunted place in India" and a news channel and the Paranormal Society are trying to verify how far the belief is true by installing CCTV cameras. The site is an abandoned mine, where thousands worked up to 20 years ago but now lies abandoned out of fear of uncanny happenings, including weird accidents. In Delhi, however, it is Sanjay Van in Vasant Kunj on the south-western Ridge that is supposed to be the most haunted place. The "second most haunted" locality is Khooni Jheel on the northern Ridge, which acquired that reputation after the 1857 revolt. Uniworld Studios of the "Most Haunted India" society of Sanjay Pandit is researching the ghostly trail and making a film on it too.

The Van area has ruins of the Laal Kot of Prithviraj Chauhan, dating back to the 12th century. Surprisingly enough, only Muslim spectres are believed to be haunting the place and nobody seems to have seen a Hindu ghost, despite the fact that Lal Kot was not bereft of violent deaths in the wake of the second Battle of Tarain, in which thousands of Rajputs, fighting against the invaders led by Mohammad Ghori, died and their wives committed jauhar in the Chauhan fort on hearing the shocking news. The reason cited for the anomaly is that Sanjay Van has lot of tombs of Sayyids and Pirs, right from the time of the Slave dynasty, which means over 8oo years from now. Logically speaking, these mazars should act as a bulwark against hauntings since Sayyids and Pirs are pious men, who don't allow any devilish activity. Then why a ghostly trail there? Some say this is because piety manifests itself sometimes to convice devotees who throng mazars, mostly on Thursday, that holy men can assert their powers even from their graves as they are not supposed to be dead but just hidden from view. There are many stories about Sanjay Van: the mazar, which emits sparks at midnight, the Pir who comes to offer prayers in the wee hours; the spot where jinns congregate to offer namaz and then drink milk from "kulhars" found in the morning without any possible explanation as to how they came there; and the lady in a white sari, swinging from a tree.

Then there is Khanum, who walks about with hair open, after having escaped from rapists, wailing for her lost daughter. The spirits of the children buried in the graveyard are said to get up and play midnight games. There's also the phantom of a king holding his crown in one hand and waving a sword with the other. Peple say he was the one of the sons of Sultan Altutmish, who ruled briefly and was then murdered. At one grave seven Pirs (sic) sit down to recite the tasbih (rosary of the 99 names of Allah) and then partake of tabarukh, or offering of batashas and nuktidanas (sweet balls), amid the aroma of joss-sticks. There's also a fakir, who emerges from a grave before cock-crow with his begging bowl, chanting "Bheek, bheek (alms, alms)".

From time to time people have claimed to have witnessed such apparitions, the most common being of Hazarat Ashiqallah and his father Abdal Baba (proclaiming his Abdali Pathan ancestry) , but the common sense view is that they could be hallucinations of a mind influenced by the ambience of the place ~ dark, dreary and deserted, in which every shadow or noise creates an eerie feeling conducive to belief in the uncanny. Well, whatever it may be, Sanjay Van continues to lay bare its secrets in the 21st century through paranormal activity. How much of it is true and how much gossip is hard to tell, along with the appearance of strange birds and flowers that suddenly keep blooming and fading away. There is also a mazar of a Sayyid, who resents planes flying above it. Many years ago, when some plane crashes took place nearabouts it was rumoured that the Sayyid Baba had manifested his anger by pulling them down. Quite a few pilots visited the Sayyid's grave in Vasant Kunj and another one near Palam airport to make offerings on Jumairat (Thursday) and seek protection from flying accidents. This is how beliefs and superstitions influence every strata of society ~ rich or poor, educated or uneducated. But all said and done, it is not wise to venture into Sanjay Van at night because even if the spirits that (sic) roam there don't harm you, the anti-socials, who lurk about, may very well attack, rob, rape and murder with impunity any foolhardy man or woman, who tries to play the role of a rationalist or braveheart.

Even the police are inclined to think so. Some warn of the fate of the qawwal, whose throat was cut 30 years ago when he tried to find out whether it was true that strange music, complete with tabla and harmonium taans, emanated from a grave under a juliflora (Kabuli kikar) tree, many of which abound in Sanjay Van and suck up a lot of water, causing a perennial biodiversity problem for flora and fauna in the forest. The qawwal was carrying a lot of money and it was thieves, who had done him to death. Another story cited is of a seth, who tried to win a big bet by accepting the challenge to circle a particular grave, which is equally frightening. When he did not return till early morning a search party found him lying dead. His kurta had actually got stuck in a nail jutting out of the grave and thinking that a ghost had caught him, he died of heart failure. Some time back the road to Dayalbagh was deserted because of "ghosts". The Hariparbat police, Agra, conducted an inquiry and arrested students of a nearby institute who, draped in white sheets, used to confront passersby and deprive them of wallets, ornaments and watches.

Make what you like of this yarn but an old Mianji, who lights candles at Hazrat Ashiqallah tomb every week, is convinced that the best way to ward off paranormal incidents is not to defy them but to use the head more than the heart when venturing into man- and God-forsaken places at odd hours. In this connection, one remembers a story told by an aunt about her father-in-law in the 1920s Lahore. When returning from work late at night he was troubled by an apparition emerging from a roadside peepul tree. Rather than lose his nerve he used to throw barfi pieces in front of it and save some for a churail, who haunted a roadside grave.

The old man died before Partition and his experience (sic) made a hair-raising story on late winter evenings in the days when there were no electric lights and only lanterns and diyas lit to dispel darkness.

This is in keeping with the saying that children fear the dark as women fear mice (probably molestors now) and belated travellers fear ghosts. What, however, is worth remembering is that more than appartitions it's fear that haunts. If we can control it, paranormal activity will lose most of the dread it instills.