The Paris Review

Bhanu Kapil

THREE GHOST STORIES: 1944–48

Everything is red. The trees look like they’re bending over. The lorry is approaching the village. Nurpur. Don’t tell anyone it was Nurpur. Just say it was any old village. A motorbike was coming from the opposite direction. The driver of the motorbike had no head. It’s because the wounds were so fresh. That’s why he was still driving the motorbike. He must only recently have been beheaded.

Was this during the war?

No, normal days. The lorry driver got so scared, he swerved and crashed into a ditch.

How old were you?

Five.

Tell me another story.

Imagine a beehive. It hangs from a branch like a sling. It’s pouring rain. Chacha-ji is getting married. After three days, he has to take his bride back to her

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