BRAHMA SREE PRADEEP PANIKER GURUJI-BLACK MAGIC AND ASTROLOGY SPECIALIST(KERALA MANTHRIKAM)=
I never believed in **black magic** — not in the slightest — until 2014. I was a staunch skeptic, convinced that all such things were just superstitions… until something happened that shattered my entire world view.
It all started with a friend of mine, a young man from Delhi, working as a camera operator. He was in a relationship with a Bengali woman, and she seemed like the kind of person who would brighten anyone's life. She was a college student, full of energy and love for him. The three of us spent a lot of time together, and we even nicknamed her "**Tiger**" — after the famous Bengal tiger — because of her fierce and spirited personality.
My friend, like me, was struggling to make ends meet. But there was something about this woman that seemed different. She was madly in love with him, and her love had an almost magical way of changing his life.
One day, my friend confided in me that he wanted to buy a new camera model, but it was beyond his budget. A few days later, she surprised him with that exact camera as a gift. And just like that, his life began to shift in ways I could never have imagined.
---
### **A Life Transformed... or Was It?**
Within a year of being with her, my friend’s life took a dramatic turn. Work came pouring in for him, more than he could handle. He was promoted at his job, and by 2012, he had bought a **house and a car**. It was as though she had unlocked a hidden door of fortune for him. To me, it seemed like a miracle — like she was some kind of **angel** sent to change his destiny.
But as with all good things, the fairy tale didn’t last.
---
### **The Fall from Grace**
Three years later, their relationship began to show cracks. My friend, despite his successes, had an affair. Tensions grew, and soon the fights were endless. They lived together in a sort of tumultuous live-in relationship, and I, being a close friend, found myself constantly stepping in to mediate between them.
One day, the woman said something that would prove to be the tipping point:
“**Whatever you have today is because of me.**”
This comment set my friend off. In a moment of rage, he slapped her. She left, heartbroken, and never returned.
It wasn’t long after that his world began to crumble. His ad agency stopped getting clients. His employees threatened to sue for unpaid salaries, and soon, he had to sell both his house and car just to pay off his debts. He was **destroyed**.
But even then, I never imagined the full extent of what was to come.
---
### **A Mysterious Illness**
Months later, my friend moved to Delhi, found a stable job in an MNC, and got engaged to a girl his family had chosen for him. Things seemed to be improving until something strange began happening: he started experiencing recurring health issues.
At first, it was chest pain. He was rushed to the hospital, but the doctors couldn’t find anything physically wrong. A week later, it was a **headache** — unbearable, like something inside his skull was pounding. Again, the hospital cleared him. Then it happened again the week after… and the week after that…
Frustrated and desperate, his family consulted doctor after doctor, but no one could explain the source of his pain. Tests were normal. His body seemed perfectly healthy. They even consulted **priests** — the kind you find in India, charging vast sums of money for their supposed blessings. But nothing changed. The pain came and went, like a shadow that couldn’t be chased away.
It wasn’t until someone suggested consulting an **Aghori** that his family decided to take a different route. The Aghori visited him and asked about his past, but my friend — too afraid to speak the truth about the Bengali woman — kept his silence. He spoke about his work, his struggles, but didn’t mention her.
The Aghori, sensing his fear and hesitation, grew stern. He warned my friend that if he didn’t confess the whole truth, he would suffer **terrible consequences**. My friend, terrified, finally admitted everything: the woman, the relationship, the rise and fall, the strange events that had surrounded them.
The Aghori looked at him with piercing eyes and spoke in a low, grave voice:
“**You are under the curse of black magic. Everything you gained, everything you lost… it’s all connected to her. She has cursed you, whether knowingly or unknowingly.**”
---
### **The Tragic End**
Days later, my friend died — just 27 years old. The cause of death was listed as a **heart attack**, but it didn’t make sense. He was young, healthy, and had seemed to be getting his life back on track.
His family was devastated. I still remember consoling his mother and sister, but deep down, I knew something was horribly wrong.
I, however, knew something they didn’t.
---
### **The Encounter**
Months after his death, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to see her — the Bengali woman. I had to know the truth, even if it terrified me. So, I made my way to her house, a dark, grim place that reeked of neglect and mystery. She lived there with her **bedridden mother**, a woman who seemed utterly incapable of moving or speaking.
The moment I stepped inside, the air was thick with unease. But what shocked me even more was her reaction to my visit. She wasn’t sad or remorseful. In fact, she seemed almost indifferent to the death of my friend. She served me tea and biscuits as though nothing had happened.
As I was about to leave, something caught my eye. There, in the corner of the room, I saw **a puppet with my friend's face, a needle pierced right through his head**.
A cold shiver ran down my spine. Without a word, I turned and bolted out of the house, my heart pounding in my chest. I ran for miles, my hands shaking. I didn’t even bother to call anyone. I switched off my phone and threw up everything I had eaten.
---
### **The Unexplainable Truth**
Years passed, and I eventually went to Bengal to shoot a documentary on black magic. I gathered courage, hoping to visit her again. But when I asked around, her neighbors claimed they had never seen her. Some denied ever knowing her, and others said she had disappeared long ago.
It’s strange — **some things cannot be explained**, no matter how much you try. After everything I saw, after everything I witnessed, there was no denying it.
To this day, I remain an **atheist** in the traditional sense, but I now believe in something that I once dismissed as pure superstition. The shadow of **black magic** that I saw with my own eyes cannot be easily forgotten.
---
Comments