As he stepped off the train at the station, Gajapati laughed heartily and pointed, saying, "Look at that jungle-like place over there. The sun is setting, so we need to hurry."

Bhababhuti remained silent until the train had left. He stood grimly, still wearing a hint of disbelief on his lips. As the train disappeared behind the dense foliage, he said, "It would be nice to have some tea."

"Tea!" Gajapati laughed. "Look around, there's no tea shop here, let alone anyone else."

Bhababhuti looked around. Indeed, the platform was empty except for the station building, which was just a tin shed. The station was surrounded by dense jungle, creating an eerie and unsettling atmosphere, especially at night.

Suddenly, Bhababhuti noticed two men sneaking away into the bushes. He exclaimed, "Look, two men!"

Gajapati glanced and said, "They're from the station. The station master and the pointsman. But they're running away."

"Running away? Why?" Bhababhuti asked, surprised.

"They don't want to stay at the station," Gajapati explained. "The railway quarters haven't been built here yet. They're a bit far away. They'll run to those quarters now and come back to the station when the next train arrives. Then they'll run away again."

Bhababhuti, still disbelieving, asked, "Then how was this station building constructed?"

"There was quite a commotion. The English engineers came and built it. They were very stubborn, so they managed to do it," Gajapati said, stretching his leg. "And look, the train stopped abruptly and then sped off, didn't you see? If you had dozed off, you would have missed it. The driver, fireman, guard, and even some passengers doze off at this station. They only open their eyes when the signal changes."

"We weren't dozing off," Bhababhuti said, stretching his smile.

"Because we haven't been harmed, I kept my eyes open," Gajapati said. "Don't worry, we're far from any danger. They won't dare look at us twice. My nephew Bhutnath is in charge of this big project. Who would dare challenge Bhutnath!"

Hearing about this scheme, Bhababhuti laughed as hard in Kolkata as Gajapati's drawing room, but here he could only manage a soft chuckle. The sound of the train tracks clicking beneath his feet continued as he walked. The sun was setting behind the dense foliage. It was autumn. The dense green leaves of the trees were turning a bluish hue as dusk fell. The birds were chirping loudly. Bhababhuti felt a growing sense of unease. However, it might be that his mind was playing tricks on him, creating fears that weren't real. He kept looking around nervously.

The conversation about this project started with the Sundarbans Tiger Project. Last night, there was heavy rain, and the roads were flooded with knee-deep water. Along with that, there was a power outage. In Gajapati's drawing room, the conversation about tigers was going on by the light of candles. Bhobhuti was young and a great hunter. So, tigers would inevitably come up in his conversations. He regretted having killed so many tigers all these years. Now, the tiger population was dwindling in the country. That's why the government had done a commendable job by creating a tiger sanctuary in Sundarbans. The poor creatures should live in peace there, eat, and breed.

Gajapati had said, "And think about the ghost population! Do people see as many ghosts these days? Ghosts are also dwindling. We used to see them in our childhood..."

Bhobhuti interrupted, "Ghosts! Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Of course, I do," Gajapati replied firmly. "That's what I was saying! You won't listen, will you? All nonsense! Ghosts don't exist."

"Don't exist!" Gajapati got angry. "Of course, they do! Come on, let's go right now and see if they exist or not."

"Where do you want to go?" Bhobhuti asked, laughing. "Some haunted house or crematorium, I suppose? I've been to all those places before. I haven't seen a single ghost."

Gajapati got angry, "You will see if you go to the right place. Besides, I told you, there aren't as many ghosts these days. Like tigers used to roam in villages, they don't anymore. And you said that the tiger population is dwindling, which is why a project was created in Sundarbans."

Bhobhuti said, "Has been done. But call it a tiger sanctuary, not a project."

"That's exactly what I was going to say," Gajapati said. "Listen, don't be stubborn. There's a station called Ramchandrapur, have you heard of it?"

Bhobhuti replied, "No, I haven't. What's that?"

"Ramchandrapur is the border of the ghost sanctuary. You know, ghosts are subdued by the word 'Ram'. Understand? In case some mischievous ghosts escape from the sanctuary and go to villages and towns, this arrangement has been made. Just like some tigers from your Sundarbans project sometimes go outside?"

As they walked along the railway line, Gajapati turned onto a narrow road to the right. In front of them, a small river was visible with a wooden bridge. When they reached the bridge, he said, "Now we're entering the ghost sanctuary. Look, there's a wooden sign: Ramchandrapur Ghost Project. Can you see it?"

Bhobhuti stopped and put on his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. He put his glasses back on, wiped them clean, and walked forward. And indeed, in big letters, it was written: Ramchandrapur Ghost Project. And below it, in brackets: A Sanctuary for Thirteen Species of Ghosts. Next to it, another big sign had a notice:

"Warning: Do not disturb them. If you annoy them and they hurt you, the government will not be responsible. However, if you want to feed them out of affection, there's no objection. But please do not feed them anything except the items on the list below. You will be fined.

Bhobhuti bent down and quickly scanned the list of food items:

(1) Milk

(2) Rosogolla

(3) Bones

(4) Dry cow dung

(5) Pure mustard oil

(6) Ripe bananas

(7) Ticks' eggs and tails

(8) Various types of fish (except Hilsa)

(9) Cockroach legs...

Gajapati placed his hand on Bhobhutir's back and said in a low voice, "It's getting late. The evening is over. Let's go to my nephew's office and learn more about it. Come on."

Bbobhuti had become sullen and silent, his face expressionless. He was also feeling a bit uneasy due to Gajapati's low-toned speech.

As they walked, they found themselves surrounded by dense thickets and a narrow dirt path. After walking for a while, they saw a large forest of tall trees, and in the distance, they saw a light. Gajapati said in a low voice, "That's my nephew's office. That's where Shri Shriman works."

Bbobhuti had almost started to believe in the existence of ghosts. He said in a hesitant tone, "I should have brought some food for them."

Gajapati put his finger to his lips and said, "Shh! Don't mention food. If you do, they'll follow us. I had a terrible experience last time."

Bbobhuti asked, "Did they follow you?"

Gajapati replied, "Yes, they did. They said, 'What have you brought? Give it to us.'"

Bbobhuti asked, "Why do they speak in a nasal tone?"

Gajapati replied, "They don't have noses! Have you seen their skulls? There's a hole where the nose should be."

As they approached the office, the light seemed to be fading. Bbobhuti felt uneasy and kept looking around. Suddenly, he saw a dark-colored creature with a shape similar to a monkey sitting on a dead tree branch. It was moving its arms and hands like a monkey.

Bbobhuti shuddered and started to chant "Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram".

Gajapati whispered, "Say it, say it, say it..."

As they walked carefully around the creature, Gajapati informed Bbobhuti that this species of ghost was known to throw stones and was mischievous.

The path turned to the right, and they saw a gate in the distance. Beyond the gate was a house that looked like a bungalow. As they approached the gate, a thin, lanky creature emerged from the thicket and stood in front of them.

Bbobhuti whispered, "Gaju, what is that?"

Gajapati stood up and whispered back, "This is it. I should have brought some dry cow dung..."

The creature started laughing loudly, and Bbobhuti muttered to himself. He realized that he was chanting "Tram Tram Tram Tram" instead of "Ram Ram".

He corrected himself and started chanting "Ram Ram Ram Ram" again. Gajapati shouted loudly, "Oh, Bhuto, oh Bhuto! Manage your infectious! It's out!"

A person came out of the bungalow with a light in hand and responded, "Who's there? Who are you calling? You have a lot of nerve."

Gajapati said, "Baba Bhuto, I-I am your uncle Gajapati."

A person with a lantern in hand rushed forward. Seeing him, the figure standing in the middle of the road jumped over the bushes and escaped. For a moment, it seemed like a whirlwind had blown by. Gajapati whispered, "Bhuts from the hilly regions, you understand?"

Then, holding Bhobhutir's hand, he stepped forward and said, "Baba Bhuto, I couldn't inform you beforehand. And the train was late too."

Opening the gate, Dr. Bhutnath said, "Uncle, is that you? Come in, come in! What good fortune. And who is this?"

"This is my friend Bhobhuti Ptotiundu. I told you about him, didn't I? He was once a famous hunter. And this is Dr. Bhutnath Pattro."

Dr. Bhutnath bowed and said, "Come in, come in! What good fortune..."

Inside the bungalow, a hurricane lantern was lit. Placing the lantern on the veranda, Dr. Bhutnath led them inside. At a corner table, a short, stout, and dark-skinned man with a face like a clay pot was writing in a ledger. He looked up once and then back down. Bhobhuti felt a shiver run down his spine seeing the man. Was this person human? He looked like a ghost.

Dr. Bhutnath opened the door to the next room and said, "Just a minute. Let me light the candle."

Bbobhuti said, "I suppose it's load shedding?"

"No, we don't have electricity here. I'll tell you why later," Dr. Bhutnath said, lighting the candle. "Come in, uncle! You both come in and sit down. I'll arrange for some tea."

The room was quite large. Gajapati and Bhobhuti sat comfortably. Dr. Bhutnath went outside, and his voice could be heard calling out to someone.

Gajapati said, "Do you know why there's no electricity? Ghosts can't stand that light. They can tolerate lanterns and hurricane lanterns at most. The electric light is driving the ghosts to extinction."

Bbobhuti was now quite intimidated. He nodded in agreement and kept looking towards the window, fearing that a ghostly figure might appear and give him a fright. He wished he had brought his rifle, but then he wondered if the rifle would have any effect on ghosts.

Some time later, as they sipped their tea, Bhobhuti listened intently to Dr. Bhutnath's stories about the ghosts in this sanctuary.

Dr. Bhutnath, Gajapati's nephew, was a friendly man. He was thin and tall, with very dark skin and short, spiky hair. His mustache was also short and stood upright. Despite the humid autumn weather, he wore a suit and tie. Gajapati's eyes sparkled with pride, as if to say, "Look, I'm such a great uncle! My nephew is a proper gentleman."

Dr. Bhutnath said, "You're a hunter, Mr. Ptotiundu. You'll understand this better. I've always been fascinated by ghosts since childhood. One day, I saw an advertisement in the paper that the Mexican government was offering a scholarship to research ghostology at the University of Mexico. I applied immediately and was selected. And here I am."

Bbobhuti listened eagerly and said, "I've heard about your project, but tell me, how did you gather all these ghosts here?"

Dr. Bhutnath smiled and said, "It was a lot of trouble. I had to put up advertisements in newspapers - if anyone found a ghost anywhere, they would be rewarded. I received many letters, but most of them were false leads. However, in a few places, I found ghosts - for example, in some old houses in Kolkata, I found three types of ghosts. They're all human ghosts, though. Some died by suicide, some by accident, and some were murdered."

Gajapati said, "You won't understand if I don't explain it properly, Bhobhuti."

"So, listen carefully," Dr. Bhutnath said. "Ghosts are mainly divided into three sub-species. Human ghosts, or what are called spirits. And real ghosts - they're not the disembodied spirits of humans or animals. They're just ghosts. The third sub-species is animal ghosts - the ghosts of animals that have died, like a cow or a dog."

Bbobhuti asked, "Are all kinds of ghosts here?"

Dr. Bhutnath replied, "Yes, but it's not always easy to spot them. You see, you've been to the Sundarbans sanctuary. How many tigers did you see there?

Bbobhuti nodded in agreement and said, "I'm a hunter. Is that something new to me?"

Dr. Bhutnath said, "Listen, I found out how to catch ghosts in rural areas. In villages, few people read newspapers, so I had to spread the word by beating drums. As a result, I received information about various ghosts from numerous places. For example, I found out about a Shaktchunni ghost in a corner of a pond in Birbhum. I immediately set out to catch it."

"But how did you bring them here?" Bhobhuti asked.

Dr. Bhutnath smiled and said, "It's quite simple. You just need to know what kind of food a particular species of ghost eats. And that's it! I went to the Shaktchunni's haunt in Birbhum and sat there for a night. Its main food is fish. As soon as it saw the fish, its mouth started watering. It said, 'Give me some fish, brother.' I immediately started moving, and it followed me, and I said, 'Come along, just a little further.' And that's how I brought it here. I created a pond here and released plenty of fish. The Shaktchunnis are eating and enjoying themselves. The rest, we send to Kolkata."

Gajapati commented, "Those fish are probably being sold in the Kolkata market. That's why they taste so good. The Shaktchunnis throw away the ones they don't like, you see?"

Bbobhuti asked, "Okay, Dr. Bhutnath, which ghosts eat luxurious food like milk-based sweets, ripe bananas, and so on?"

Dr. Bhutnath replied, "Not ghosts, but ghostesses. They belong to the spirit subspecies, i.e., they are the ghosts of greedy women who died."

As soon as he said that, a shrill voice from outside the window said, "What, what did you say? Do only women eat all that?"

Bbobhuti was startled and saw a ghostess standing outside the window, her hair disheveled, wearing a sari and various ornaments. She was staring at him with a piercing gaze.

Dr. Bhutnath scolded her, "Pecho's mother! Go away from here right now! We're talking, can't you see? If you have something to say, come back later or submit an application."

The ghostess stuck out her tongue and made a face at Bhobhuti before disappearing. Gajapati chuckled and said, "Pecho's mother once asked me to bring her rosogolla from Bagbazar. She forgot she had asked me herself."

Bbobhuti asked, "What's the meaning of 'Pecho's mother'?"

Dr. Bhutnath explained, "Her son Pecho is also a ghost. He died after being hit by a train."

Bbobhuti asked, "Dr. Bhutnath, you've collected so many ghosts in the sanctuary. Have you or your employees ever been in danger?"

Dr. Bhutnath replied, "No, we choose our employees carefully and give them proper training. Working with ghosts isn't easy, you know."

At that moment, Bhobhuti felt something slipping into his pocket. He turned around, startled, and saw a boy, or at least something that looked like a boy, about ten years old, with a black, wiry hand rummaging through his pocket.

Bbobhuti stuttered, "Who, who are you?"

Dr. Bhutnath shouted, "Pecho! What are you doing?"

The ghost boy said, "I'm looking for chocolate, Bhutumama!"

Dr. Bhutnath stood up and said, "Take your hand out! Don't put your dirty hand in someone's pocket like that!"

The ghost boy giggled and took out his hand. Then, he stood up behind the chair and wrapped his arms around Bhobhuti's neck, saying, "Give me some chocolate, uncle. And scratch my back!"

Bbobhuti was frozen in fear, feeling the icy cold hands of the ghost boy. He started to laugh hysterically, like a ghost himself.

When Bhobhuti came to, he found himself lying in his bed, with his grandson Runu standing beside him. Runu said, "Grandpa, are you still sleeping? I've been up for a while."

Bbobhuti looked at Runu carefully, wondering if he was still dreaming. Then he simply said, "Hmm."

Runu asked, "Grandpa, can I have some chocolate?"

Bbobhuti was startled, thinking it was another ghost asking for chocolate. But then he realized it was just a coincidence. He had been arguing with Gajapati about ghosts the previous evening, and it must have been a vivid dream.