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continue the story

visit the Victorian blogs of Nicholson Political Officer and follow the story and also visit John Nicholson and the Great Mutiny. jef Advertisements

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blog 100 the desperate escape

And now it is 1842 and I am 20 years old. My Indian family is in Ferozepore, I hope, in my little bungalow, I hope, with my trunks. All of my trunks. Including that trunk. Knowing the Afghans penchant for … Continue reading

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blog 99 the banshee comes for me

That dusk I walked among the wild roses of the ghostly ruined garden. I came to the unquiet grave of the shroud. I knelt down. I sang a dirge in English and then in Pashto. ‘I sing a dirge for … Continue reading

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blog 98 describe a banshee gone then!

But then the father of the clan of the dead girl died of drowning. He apparently raved he saw a ghost washing his bloody clothes in the river and ran up to the riverbank to snatch the clothes away only … Continue reading

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blog 97 the imam meets his match

The Imam came to me. I asked him why he came to see a filthy kafir. “Because yesterday a good Muslim came and told his family a banshee had stood before him and raised her long black veil and he … Continue reading

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blog 96 what could any pathan fear?

“You don’t fear banshees but I do. Where I come from, Ireland, banshees can rise up from shrouds left unburied.” “What is a banshee?” the young man asked in that oddly soft, slightly quivering voice. “A banshee is a sort … Continue reading

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blog 95 nang is nang

Peshawar ended on a dark note that proved to be a dire omen. I was walking down a road just outside the city walls, in the ruins of the ghostly decayed gardens of the long gone Mughals when I saw … Continue reading

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