Back in the June of 2005, when I was working on the project of a tourism CD, I witnessed the weirdest and scariest incident of my life.

The plan for the day had been that I pick up Mr. Lambat, an elderly friend of mine and an enthusiast about historical places, and we go to the caves of Ellora for a daylong visit and photography. I packed my camera, a tripod, a torch and extra batteries in the bag and turned up at Mr. Lambat’s place. He had been eagerly waiting for the doorbell. Within next five minutes we were on my bike and a move, ten minutes earlier than the scheduled time of morning seven...

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