Real Black Magic Stories: The Ring That Ruled Azad Chacha

This is one of the strangest real black magic stories I have heard, and the man at the centre of it is still alive. We call him Azad Chacha. Azad is his nickname, and his real name is Amzad. I have met him once. I will tell you his story the way I know it.

The Man at the Tea Shop

Amzad was a village man, and this was some years before the main events began. He was about fifteen then. His father had left some property, and there were a few shops in the village and in the market. He looked after them, sat in the shops, and also farmed. That is how they got by. He was unmarried at the time. At home there were his mother, a younger sister and an elder brother. His father had already died.

In those days, as now, agents who send people abroad came and went in the village. Azad Chacha had a tea shop, and next to it a small grocery shop. One day, while selling tea, he overheard a man chatting with another customer. The man said he had sent some people abroad, and they were doing well there, earning fifty or sixty thousand taka a month. In Bangladesh, there was no chance of that kind of income. Azad Chacha listened carefully for a long time, but he said nothing on the first day.

Some days passed. About a week later, the same man came again, the one who had spoken about sending people abroad. Another man dropped in and had tea. Chatting, he asked, “Brother, where is your house, what is your name, what do you do?” and then raised the subject of going abroad. The same thing happened three or four days in a row. One day Azad Chacha asked him, “Brother, where is your home? I don’t see you much in this village.” He named a village. He said he came on market days because good fish and meat were cheap here.

Over the conversation Azad Chacha asked, “You often talk about going abroad. Can a person really earn so much? What kind of work is it? I’m a little curious.” The man said that work depended on education. “How far did you study?” Azad Chacha said he had studied up to class eight and could not continue after his father died. The man said he might be able to send him on a labour visa, or some other way. That day there was no talk of money. The man left in a hurry, saying, “I have work. I will contact you another time.”

The next week he came again. Slowly he and Azad Chacha grew friendly. One day he said, “How is business, brother? You heard my abroad stories the other day. Do you want to go? If so, tell me, and I will arrange it.” Azad Chacha did not take it seriously at first. But inside he thought, let me try. If I earn well, I can marry off my little sister, and the family’s condition will improve. He kept this thought to himself.

About two months passed. The relationship grew warmer. When the man had tea and left, Azad Chacha would say, “Brother, pay the bill later, no problem.” They had become that close.

One day Azad Chacha’s mother suddenly fell ill. He did not come to the shop for some time. It was market day, perhaps a Tuesday, and he did not come that day either. It went on for about two weeks. His mother had something like pox, and a terrible fever. She was brought home from the village clinic. When all that had passed, Azad Chacha came to the shop one day. It was not a market day, but the man turned up suddenly. “Brother, I haven’t seen you for a long time. Was there any problem?” Azad Chacha said his mother had been ill, his elder brother had gone to the city looking for work, and he had had to manage everything. He said he had grown weak financially too, since the shop was small, the land was little, and farming brought little income.

They went on telling each other personal things like this. After about a week, Azad Chacha was in real financial trouble. His mother’s treatment had cost a lot. His elder brother was struggling to get a job in the city, and almost every week Azad Chacha had to put some money in his hand. Hearing this, the man said, “Brother, since you have so many problems, you should try to go abroad. I will arrange it. After you get there, I will try to find you good work.” He explained the process. Then came the money. If he sent him directly with a visa and passport, it would cost about ten to fifteen lakh taka. He would not send him that way. He had many acquaintances abroad, and some of the people he had sent had come back to the country. He would contact them. “Two months ago, it was possible to go for four or five lakh. Let me look into it.”

Hearing this, Azad Chacha’s heart sank. He could not pay that much. Where would he find four or five lakh taka? The next day the man came to his shop. “Brother, I checked. You will probably need about five lakh. Arrange it somehow. There is a trip next month, and I will arrange to send you on it.” Azad Chacha said, “I told you all my troubles. I do not have the means to pay five lakh.” After a lot of talk the man came to a compromise. “All right, give me two lakh taka now. Once you reach abroad and get work, you can pay the rest slowly. You can take three or four months. I know you, and we have a relationship now.”

After much thought, Azad Chacha talked to his family and told them everything. His mother was from the old generation. She wanted her children to go abroad and earn. In those days, going abroad was a very big thing for everyone. His mother said, “Your father’s land is not much, about four or five bighas. Talk to your elder brother, whether he agrees to sell your share of the land so you can go. Your sister has no problem with it. You are the ones looking after her.”

Azad Chacha discussed everything with his elder brother. At first he thought of sending his elder brother, since he was running around for a job. His elder brother said, “No, I do not want to go. One of us must stay in the country, so I will stay. You go.” After much discussion it was decided that they would sell part of the land to raise the money.

Azad Chacha told the man that they would have to sell land to raise the money. He asked him to arrange something if he knew anyone, because selling land means waiting a long time. The man assured him he had some people and would talk to them. About two weeks later he brought someone. How to put it, by talking in all sorts of roundabout ways, he got the land bought at a very low price. That money made up the sum needed for Azad Chacha to go abroad.

After many steps, about a month later, a chance to go abroad came. How, by which route he was taken, I will not say. They were being taken by some kind of ship. He was not alone. Where they reached, there were fifteen or twenty other Bangladeshis. The man through whom he was going had a few more acquaintances there. He was talking to them and explaining many things. That is how their journey began.

Within a month of that, no news of Azad Chacha came. His family tried hard to make contact. Before leaving, Azad Chacha had left the man’s contact number and a lot of information at home, but they could not reach any of them. A month and ten days or so went by, and after a great deal of searching there was no trace. Then they took the help of the police. They did many things.

About a month and ten days later, news of Azad Chacha came. He called home from an unknown number and said he was in a place in Chittagong, in a very bad state, and asked someone to come get him. His elder brother went there and found his brother lying half dead in a slum area. Somehow he brought him home. Azad Chacha was ill for a long time, and by what he has told us, he was in a trauma. When they asked, “What happened? You went abroad, why did you suddenly come back like this, why are you in this state?” he said he did not want to tell the terrible, hair-raising thing that had happened, and would not say what it was. He only said that Allah had saved him, and that was reason enough to be grateful. Many of you probably know what can happen in such cases. He came back alive, and that is alhamdulillah.

The Healer Who Came Back

Many days passed. They took the matter to the police, but the man was never found. In the meantime a stubbornness took hold of Azad Chacha. “He cheated me like this. I will go abroad, by a good way or any way. I will earn and come back. Those two lakh taka were wasted for going abroad, and I will bring this money back from abroad.” After many steps and many days of trying, in about five or six months he arranged to go abroad again. With a passport and a lot of other things, and by selling a lot of land, he went to Dubai. He stayed there for about three years. What happened there, I will leave out. It was not three years, more like two and a half, and then he returned to Bangladesh. He had earned well, and his family became comfortable. By then even his dress and way of speaking had changed a lot. His brother, too, had worked in different parts of Bangladesh and was in a good position. The family situation was very good.

After returning, Azad Chacha opened a kabiraj’s chamber. His mother was surprised. “My son went abroad, why has he opened a chamber after coming back? Is he not going again?” She spoke to him. He said he would not go abroad for now, his heart had gone out of it. He had learned some knowledge there. He had met some Pakistani men who taught him kabiraji, and he wanted to use it to help people.

Everyone in the village already knew him. Slowly, one or two people began to come. He treated them wonderfully, and by Allah’s mercy people got well. His name spread. After four, five, six months of this, he got married. For about two years after his marriage everything went well, with no trouble.

Read more: [LINK: Real Black Magic Stories: The Housemaid’s Revenge]

The Ring

Suddenly one night, many people in the household were calling Azad Chacha, but he could not be reached. Around half past some hour of the night he came home. He was very tired, soaked in sweat, his clothes wet and some mud on his body. When they asked, he could not say much. He only said he had felt bad, had fallen on the road, and did not remember the rest. A day or two went by like this. Then suddenly his behaviour changed. After many years he began speaking angrily to his mother and scolded her, only because the tea had too little sugar. His wife came and explained that this was a normal thing and there was nothing to be angry about. It went on until he was quarrelling with someone in the family every day. Slowly he came home less and returned late at night. He rarely went to the chamber. Where he went and what he did, nobody knew.

The event I am telling you about is from 2019. That is, after he had come back from abroad.

For about a week, a little before Ramadan, he was well. He treated everyone in the family well and everything was fine. Everyone thought he had perhaps been under stress and that was why he acted that way. Then seven days before Ramadan, he suddenly began to throw everything in his room into disorder and to scream and shout. The whole family came to his room. “What has happened to you?” He was talking to nobody. And his voice had changed on its own. It was somewhat deep, but also cracked, cutting in and out the way a voice does when the network lags. After a lot of calling, his wife finally took hold of his hand. “What happened to you? Why are you doing this?” The moment she held his hand, she felt as if she had put her hand on something as hot as fire. She pulled it back at once. Azad Chacha turned and looked back. Everyone looked at his eyes and saw they were blood red. He said, “Beware, do not try to touch my body, or you will be harmed.” Just after saying something of this kind, he slapped his wife hard and walked out of the room. The slap was so strong that she fainted and fell right there.

Hearing the screaming, people came from the neighbouring houses. The elder brother said, “We must catch Azad. I do not know where he went. Go look for him, and we will manage things at home.” At twelve at night he came back in a normal state. It seemed to him that nothing had happened at home and he had done nothing. He spoke normally, and asked about his wife, “Where is she?” Everyone was astonished. His brother said, “What did you do, don’t you remember? You behaved like that with your wife, and she has fallen ill.” He remembered nothing. He went to his wife and heard everything, but he could not understand what was really happening.

The next day he sat in his chamber again and returned by evening. His brother noticed a ring on his hand. From a distance it looked like a gold ring. Looking closely, it was a copper ring with some writing scratched or engraved on it. The writing was not Bangla, but some other script. An ordinary person would take it for a design. His brother did not pay much attention, thinking he had probably bought it because he liked it. Back home, some small quarrel started and Azad Chacha began raging, using the rude form of “you” to everyone and cursing them all. His brother understood that something was wrong with him and that a hujur (Islamic scholar) or kabiraj had to see him. He ran to the nearby mosque and brought someone back. The imam was not there, so he brought the muazzin. “Brother, such and such problem is happening in my house, please take a look.”

The muazzin came and saw that Azad Sahib was talking to him quite well, greeting him with salam and speaking beautifully. As they talked, at some point the muazzin looked into Azad Sahib’s eyes. Once he had looked, he could not take his eyes away, and could not even turn his neck. Suddenly Azad Sahib looked at him and smiled. He said, “Have you come to heal me? Can you? What power do you have? Wait, let me show you something.” Everyone could see Azad Sahib sitting normally, and the muazzin, looking into his eyes, cried “Ma go!” in a scream and fell unconscious. Somehow they lifted him up. Azad Sahib himself came, held him and sat him on the bed. “Brother, what happened to you?” After a lot of effort the muazzin got up. As soon as he rose, he got off the bed and went straight out through the gate. The elder brother followed him and asked, “Brother, what happened?” He said, “Brother, what I saw, it is not possible for me to remove. I still cannot believe it myself. Please never call me to your house again, and do not ask me anything more about this. Forgive me.” They were left speechless. But the elder brother understood that there was some big problem.

That night passed like that. The next day the elder brother went to the city. The day after, in the afternoon, he brought a very senior alim. Azad Sahib spoke to him very nicely too and exchanged greetings. But the moment the alim looked into his eyes, he screamed and rushed out of the house. “Why did you bring me here? My life will go, my family will be ruined. This is not possible for me, or for anyone.” Then he said, “Brother, I have an ustad, a teacher. I do not know whether he can do it. I hope he cannot either, because I know him. But you can speak to him. He might be able to tell you what the problem is, which I cannot say now.” He gave the number and introduced them.

What the Ustad Said

The elder brother spoke to the ustad by phone. The ustad asked for Azad Chacha’s full name, date of birth and current address. He said, “I will contact you tomorrow.” The next day he took the address and came himself. When he arrived, he said, “I will not meet your brother. But I will ask you two questions, and you must answer. Did your brother go to the Garo hills a while ago? Did he meet someone there? Please find out and tell me.” The elder brother asked Azad Chacha. Azad Chacha said, “No, I did not go to the Garo hills, and I did not meet anyone. Who is saying such nonsense?” His brother said, “We heard it.” Then Azad Sahib suddenly said, laughing, “The hujur (Islamic scholar) who was brought yesterday, his ustad said, ‘Bring him to me,’ didn’t he?” He never used the rude form of “you” with his elder brother, but at that moment he began to.

The elder brother went and told the ustad. The ustad came, but kept his eyes lowered and did not look at Azad Sahib’s eyes. Azad Sahib said, “You came? You asked whether I went there, whether I did anything. Can you free me? Is it possible for you? Why did you come for nothing? Your life will be ruined, you will die.” Azad Chacha went on saying things like this. The ustad sat with his head bowed for a while. Then he said, “I will say some things to you, and you only say yes or no. I do not want to know who you are, where you have come from, what you will do. I will not free you. Stay in whoever’s body you are in, no problem. But I will ask some questions and you will answer.” Azad Chacha said, “All right, ask.”

The ustad said, “You went to the Garo hills, got to know a woman and married her. Is that true?” He said, “Yes, it is true.” “Is that girl Hindu?” “Yes, Hindu.” “All right. She gave you a ring. Take that ring off, and then do what you want.” He said, “Why should I take the ring off?” Despite many efforts the ring could not be removed. Then the ustad left.

The next day he phoned the elder brother and said, “Brother, a huge problem has happened here. Your brother has done something very bad.” The brother asked, “Why, what happened?” The ustad said that for a long time his brother had been going to the Garo hills. For his kabiraji he went to the hills to collect herbs and medicinal plants. Because he went regularly, he met a girl. She knew the hills and helped him look for medicinal plants. Slowly, one day she proposed marriage to him. She had also once given him something to eat. Then the marriage proposal. Your brother slowly grew weak toward her and agreed to the marriage. After he agreed, the biggest problem began. They had some rituals. One thing I left out earlier. That girl tempted him. “You are practising kabiraji, and I can help you in it, but you will have to do one thing, a sacrifice.” What the sacrifice was, what was given, the ustad did not know and could not say. But he said, “If you make this sacrifice, your power will grow a great deal, you will be able to do whatever you want, and your name as a kabiraj will become famous.” These temptations were offered to him. After a lot of thought he agreed. He thought, the people of the village know me, I am helping people, what harm can one sacrifice do? He is said to have made some sacrifice. What he gave, nobody knows. It could have been an animal, it could have been a human being. To this day nobody knows. The ustad said that through this sacrifice he had surrendered himself to a devil, perhaps without knowing it.

“After the sacrifice, they took a piece from the creature, whatever it was, perhaps a piece of bone, wrapped copper around it, made a ring and put it on your brother’s hand. It is not possible to take it off. The devil he surrendered to is a different kind of devil. Perhaps in their language they call it Ma Monsha. It is extremely powerful. My student who came, he was very frightened at the mere sight of that thing. His face looked that way.” The ustad said many things of this kind. I am only repeating what the ustad said, and I do not speak for any faith or community.

Living With It

Slowly they began to look for kabirajs here and there, but nobody could cure it. Every month, or every few weeks, a certain time comes when that thing takes hold of his body. He leaves home, and for two, three, four days nothing is known of him. When he returns, he returns in a normal state, behaves well with everyone at home, and everything is fine. When the family says, “We will take you to a place, we will have you meet a hujur in Dhaka, come with us,” he agrees. But on the very day they try to take him, he simply cannot be taken out of the house.

One day something happened which may seem hard to believe. He was standing in front of the window in his room. Everyone was calling from near the door, “Come on, we will go.” His wife went a little closer. She stood two or three arm-lengths away from the window. They kept saying, “You come, you come.” Then he reached out his hand beside the window and gripped his wife’s throat. The hand had stretched nearly two arm-lengths long and held her by the throat. Seeing this, his mother fainted. “What have I just seen!” Incidents like this began to happen regularly. As it kept happening, in time they slowly gave up. He could not even visit relatives’ homes. When their own relatives came, nobody could stay more than a day or two, because something would happen to someone. Scratch marks on the body, finger marks on a cheek, severe pain, fever, such problems. So visits to and from their house dwindled. Slowly relations with everyone shrank. People did not come, did not talk, and the villagers kept their distance from them.

One day his wife noticed that around half past nine or ten at night, Azad Chacha was leaving the house in a normal state. She thought, “Today I will see where he goes.” She followed him. Going on, she reached a place close to the hills. A small canal, or a river, I do not quite remember which. Water all around, and in the middle a small open sandbar. He went there and sat down. He began to dig the earth. He dug out something small and put it in his mouth and began to eat it. Seeing this, his wife turned back. Neither she nor his brother had been able to go further to that place. When Azad Chacha came home a little later, his wife saw something red at one side of his lips. Pretending to talk, she went close and looked carefully. There was something like blood on that part of his lips. She asked, “Where did you go? What did you do?” He answered normally and went on.

It went on like this. For seven or ten days he would be fine and go out, and then suddenly he would change again. At one point his wife talked to her parents’ family, got in touch with many people and found a woman kabiraj. She told her what had happened. That woman kabiraj kept some powerful jinn. She looked into it and said, “There is a very bad thing inside that man.” She too spoke of Monsha, the goddess Monsha or something like that. She said, “He must be brought out of the house. It does not matter if the ring is not removed, but he must be taken out of the house. His territory is that hill area and your house. If you can somehow take him out of the town, I can treat him.”

Somehow Azad Chacha learned about this. I do not know where he got the number, but one day he phoned that woman. In the rude form of “you,” he kept saying, “If you have the power, come to my house, and let me see what you can do to me.” The woman took up the challenge. She was quite old. She took a few people and went to his house in that area of Jamalpur and sat in the house. They talked for a long time, about an hour and a half, two hours, and there was no clash. Suddenly, for about fifteen to twenty minutes, both of them fell silent. They were looking at each other. Nobody spoke, nobody moved, there was no movement in their bodies at all, they just sat quietly. The family noticed this. During those ten or fifteen minutes it felt as if a terrible storm was raging around the house, as if everything was being torn apart. Something was happening. After ten or fifteen minutes they suddenly relaxed, began to move, and talked normally. The woman left.

After the woman left, she said to his wife, “Look, whatever I have, your husband has the same thing. That is, there is some power of the same kind in him. It is not possible to remove. If the woman he married wants to let go, perhaps she can. But I do not know whether even she can, because the body she chose is one she may not be able to release. He surrendered himself to a devil. I cannot do it, and nobody else can. As long as he lives, he will have to stay this way.”

Even now, at set intervals, every seven or ten days, these events happen to Azad Chacha. Even in Ramadan, when I asked a little while ago, he was going through the same pattern. For some days he fasts, and for some days he has his trouble.

One thing I left out about the Hindu religion. Sometimes he tells his family members stories from the scriptures of the Hindus, that is, the Sanatan faith. The family wonders, where did he learn these? He never read them, there are no such books in the house, how does he know? He says many things and even answers many questions. In this state he still treats many people. Because of fear people come to him a little less, but many still come for treatment, and he treats them quite well.

Another thing is that they have never lacked money, and still do not. He does no other work, and he takes no money from people for his kabiraji. Yet they have no shortage of money. Money comes to them by itself. Sometimes it happens that they open the wardrobe and find bundles of money kept there. Later when they ask Azad Chacha, he says, “Yes, I brought it and put it there, it is my due.” Something like that.

All this is still going on. Suddenly he behaves badly with the family and goes out. His wife has seen again that he goes to the same place, takes something out of the ground, eats it and comes back. Sometimes for two or three days he goes missing with no news at all, and then returns well. This is still going on. Where it will end, what will happen later, only Allah knows best.

That was today’s story. I do not know whether it is a scary story or not, but I found it quite strange. That is all for today.