Diary of Lost Secrets: A Treasure Hunt Through Time

An intriguing tale that intertwines a Kolkata bookshop, an old diary found on the Bay of Bengal, and a mysterious 19th-century adventure. Dive into riddles, treasure hunts, and an African voyage that defies time and belief.

It was a fantastic Puja holiday this year, filled with excitement and discovery. I was visiting Kolkata with my parents, and we spent our days hopping from one pandal to another, soaking in the vibrant atmosphere, and enjoying meals at some of Kolkata’s famous restaurants. Amid all the bustling festivities, we visited College Street, a paradise for book lovers like me. While browsing through the shops, I found something very curious: an old diary, worn with age and covered in dust, with no name on it. When I asked the shopkeeper about it, he told me it was found at the shore of Bay of Bengal years ago. For him, it was just a piece of junk. He didn’t seem to care much about it and said I could have it for just twenty rupees. Intrigued, I paid him immediately and slipped it into my bag.

Back in Cooch Behar, the holiday ended, and school reopened. Life resumed its usual rhythm, filled with classes and homework. One afternoon, after school, I was browsing Epic Words, our school’s online magazine, and came across a story by my friend Srijeet. He had written about how people tend to fear ghosts without any real reason. Srijeet argued that the fear of ghosts is irrational, and we often imagine scary things that aren’t real. I agreed with him—I didn’t believe in ghosts either. Reading his story made me think about the old diary I had bought in Kolkata. I hadn’t yet opened it, so I decided to take a look. What I found left me amazed and I felt I had to share it with you all. Here’s what the diary contained…

21st Day of March, Anno Domini 1809 Upon this tempestuous afternoon, as I did sit within my parlour, a missive arrived from mine acquaintance William. In his hand did he possess a letter most peculiar, which he sought to discourse with me. By mine bearer, I sent him reply, bidding him attend upon me for the taking of tea ere the evening hour.

22nd Day of March, Anno Domini 1809 William did grace my abode this day, bearing tidings of said letter, whose author remaineth veiled in mystery. The missive did beseech him to voyage unto the continent of Africa, whereupon, it claimed, a treasure lieth hidden upon a hill of little renown, guarded by a wraithly spectre. It warned, moreover, that entry to the cave wherein the treasure resteth could be won but by solving a riddle of cunning design.

23rd Day of March, Anno Domini 1809 This morn I did call upon William, seeking his counsel as to his intent. With no small fervour, he did declare his wish to embark upon this African enterprise and did entreat me to join him. Methought he did already see himself amidst adventures wondrous and perilous.

24th Day of March, Anno Domini 1809 Last night, sleep did elude me entire. My mind remaineth divided—though I suspect the letter a deceit, yet its curious nature doth intrigue me. The missive nameth no sender and telleth only of a riddle, which, being unsolvable to William, I did carry thence to mine own dwelling. All night I did pore over its cryptic lines. The riddle, though seeming plain at first, did grow labyrinthine the deeper I delved:

“Ready to start? Waste not a minute; begin thy quest in the shower. Jalpaiguri is thy dwelling place, the first clue shall be thy treat, Seek it where one findeth passage to Africa. Once nourished and fed, seek the car’s path to the hills. Hast thou heard of that which defies gravity’s law? A road where cars, set to rest, doth climb incline. The final prize awaiteth atop the hill where thou may touch the blue sky; Thy last clue shall guide thee to the treasure.”

27th Day of March, Anno Domini 1809 The last days hath been consumed with my efforts to unravel the riddle’s mystery, hence my quill hath not touched this journal. The puzzle, in its seeming simplicity, did confound me mightily as I read and reread its lines. ‘Twas both vexing and wondrously enthralling.

30th Day of March, Anno Domini 1809 This day, at last, the puzzle did yield its secrets. The line speaking of defiance of gravity did point me to a place known as Spook Hill, in the Kouga Mountains. Methinks this hill may be our destined place of discovery.

2nd Day of April, Anno Domini 1809 The venture is now set in motion! William and I, in our shared resolve, do embark this very day. First, we journey to Calcutta, there to board a fine vessel, the M.V. Elizabeth. Our mounts, the noblest Afghan steeds, await us in Jalpaiguri. From thence shall we traverse unto my Darjeeling gardens, whence our grand adventure doth begin.

6th Day of April, Anno Domini 1809 Upon this day, we did board the noble ship, M.V. Elizabeth, from the teeming port of Calcutta, her sails proud and her timbers stout. The air was filled with the clamour of sailors and the creaking of ropes as barrels of victuals and supplies were secured. The city faded into the mist as the ship made her way to the vast and briny Bay of Bengal, leaving naught but a distant memory of shore behind. The winds, steady and true, did carry us forth upon gentle waves. Captain Elias Weatherby, a mariner of great renown and weathered visage, did regale us with tales of his voyages. He spake of tempests fierce enough to tear the heavens, of monstrous leviathans said to haunt the deep, and of foreign lands where mystery and peril walk hand in hand. William, eager as ever, did pore o’er maps and charts, his spirit aflame with thoughts of Africa’s hidden treasure.

9th Day of April, Anno Domini 1809 The calm seas of yestermorn have yielded to the tumult of the Indian Ocean. The waters are restless and wild, and the Elizabeth doth groan like a creature alive, buffeted by the mighty waves. Yesternight, a tempest most fierce descended upon us, as though Neptune himself sought to test our mettle. The wind did howl with the voice of the damned, and the rain smote us as if wielded by an unseen hand. William and I, our hands raw and sore, lent aid to the crew in securing the sails amidst the chaos. By dawn’s light, the tempest had spent its fury, and the sea lay calm once more, as if in contrition for its wrath.

14th Day of April, Anno Domini 1809 Our voyage hath now found a measure of peace, the days marked by the hum of sailor’s shanties and the sight of distant horizons. The crew, rough-hewn yet true of heart, hath taken kindly to us, sharing tales of sea monsters and distant ports. Captain Weatherby warneth us of the Cape of Storms, where many a ship hath been swallowed by the deep. William hath taken to the wheel under the captain’s watchful eye, his laughter mingling with the wind. For mine own part, I stand oft at the bow, gazing out upon the infinite blue, my thoughts adrift with dreams of Africa and its fabled treasures.

20th Day of April, Anno Domini 1809 As we draw nearer the southern latitudes, the air doth grow chill, and the seas more ferocious. Great albatrosses wheel above, their cries carried upon the wind. This morn we espied a pod of whales, their mighty forms breaking the surface as though to remind us of the ocean’s majesty. By moonlight, we did gather on deck as the captain spake of the accursèd Flying Dutchman, a ghostly vessel doomed to wander these seas eternal. His tale chilled the blood, and as shadows danced upon the waves, I could not shake the feeling that unseen eyes did watch us from the darkened deep.

25th Day of April, Anno Domini 1809 Behold, the mighty Cape of Good Hope! Its cliffs rise stark and formidable against the horizon, a sentinel guarding the gateway to the Atlantic. The waves here are fierce and unyielding, as though the sea itself doth conspire to thwart our passage. As we rounded the Cape, a rogue wave, tall as a tower, rose suddenly to challenge us. The Elizabeth did groan and shudder, but through the skill of Captain Weatherby and the courage of the crew, we passed unscathed. William, ever undaunted, declared it the grandest moment of his life, his eyes alight with the thrill of danger.

30th Day of April, Anno Domini 1809 The final leg of our journey is upon us as we sail toward the port of Gqeberha in South Africa. The winds are fair, and the spirits of the crew run high at the thought of landfall. Weeks upon the restless sea have left us eager for the feel of solid ground beneath our feet. Yet, as we draw nearer to our destination, a strange unease doth creep into mine heart. The letter, the riddle, the spectre of the treasure—all weigh heavily upon my thoughts. What awaiteth us upon the African shore? Methinks our adventure is but beginning, and the answers lie cloaked in the mists of the morrow.

1st Day of May, Anno Domini 1809 At the crowing of the cockerel, we did rise and make ready for our journey to Spook Hill, our spirits yet buoyed by the promise of adventure. Departing Gqeberha, the city lay aglow in the gilded embrace of dawn, its minarets casting long shadows upon the waking streets. The scent of spices and the hum of the bustling bazaar did follow us as our carriage rattled forth. The road stretched long and weary, yet the vistas of the land bewitched our senses. Hours did pass ere we espied the sign that proclaimed “Spook Hill,” and with quickened breath, we followed its beckoning.

1st Day of May, Afternoon The road did wind and climb, and at length, we reached the hill’s crest. Yet, alas! Our hearts sank as we beheld naught but barren earth and stone. No shadow of spectres did haunt the place, nor hint of hidden riches. William’s countenance grew grim, and I confess mine own heart did heavy with despair. It seemed we had been lured hither upon a fool’s errand. But as we descended, a queer sensation did seize us. Though the road sloped downward, our carriage moved as if borne uphill. “What devilry is this?” William cried, and the driver, with a chuckle, did name it an illusion of the eye—a trick of the land where gravity’s laws seemed mock’d. The locals, he said, called it the “Hill of Gravity,” a marvel but naught of mystery.

1st Day of May, Eventide Upon our return to the The Royal Hotel, we did gather in the common hall, our bodies weary and our hearts heavier still. The promise of treasure had slipped through our grasp as smoke upon the wind. “Was it all for naught?” William muttered, his voice laden with dejection. Yet, as the night did deepen, I pondered long upon the curious happenings of the day. Methinks the hill was but a riddle of nature, and the true key lay elsewhere. The puzzle we had deciphered, the strange letter—it seemed not yet spent. Could there be another clue yet hidden?

2nd Day of May, Anno Domini 1809 Upon this morn, William and I resolved to comb anew through the cryptic missive. Each line we did scrutinize with the care of a jeweller appraising a gem. “Climb the hill till you reach out to touch the blue sky,” the riddle did say. Surely this spake of more than mere Spook Hill! William posited that the riddle might point to yet another hill, one of greater renown or hidden nature. “The letter did speak of treasures guarded by ghosts,” he mused. “Mayhap the spectre doth haunt another summit, unseen by common folk.” Our thoughts turned toward the hills and plateaus of Africa’s heart. The famed Nimba Range came to mind—a place shrouded in mystery and said to harbour caves as old as time itself. Resolving to press onward, we did send word to secure guides and provisions for the arduous journey ahead.

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5th Day of May, Anno Domini 1809 The days hence were spent in preparation, our spirits rekindled by the prospect of new discovery. The tales of the Nimba Range spoke of caves that whispered secrets, where ancient peoples once dwelt and where nature’s wonders stood unmarred. This eve, as I pen these words, the thought of venturing into the unknown quickens my blood. The treasure, if real, may yet elude us, but the journey itself hath become its own reward. William and I are united in purpose, and together we shall brave what lies ahead. By God’s grace, mayhap the morrow shall bring us closer to the truth.

7th Day of May, Anno Domini 1809 At the break of day, with our guides and porters in tow, William and I did set forth toward the Nimba Range. The path was treacherous, wending through dense thickets and craggy escarpments. The air grew thin as we ascended, and an eerie stillness enveloped the hills, as though the world itself held its breath. By midday, we reached a cavern that yawned wide as a serpent’s maw, its entrance marked by weathered carvings—symbols of a language unknown to us. Within the cave, the air was damp and chill, and the flickering light of our torches cast ghostly shadows upon the walls.

7th Day of May, Eventide After hours of searching, we stumbled upon a stone chest, hidden deep within the cavern’s heart. Its lid bore the same strange markings as the cave’s entrance, and as we prised it open, our breath caught. Before us lay gold coins, bejewelled relics, and a sceptre encrusted with gems that glimmered like stars. Yet, even as we marvelled at the treasure, an unearthly chill crept through the air. Shadows seemed to writhe of their own accord, and the cave grew oppressively silent. A deep unease settled upon us, but greed and triumph drowned our caution. We secured the treasure and departed the cave.

7th Day of May, Midnight As we descended the hill under the cloak of darkness, a voice, cold and otherworldly, did echo through the night. “Anyone who dares to take the treasure must die.” The words froze our blood, and though we saw no figure, we felt eyes upon us, piercing and relentless. William urged haste, and we fled the hill without looking back. Yet even as we reached our encampment, the weight of the voice lingered, a sinister promise that seemed to follow us.

8th Day of May, Anno Domini 1809 Upon returning to our lodging at the The Royal Hotel, we resolved to abandon our quest and return to India. The treasure, though grand, seemed cursed, and the voice’s warning haunted our thoughts.

10th Day of May, Anno Domini 1809 We boarded the ship M.V. Elizabeth, its sails billowing as we set course for home. The ocean stretched vast and unyielding, yet our hearts were heavy with foreboding. As the days passed, the crew grew uneasy, speaking in hushed tones of strange omens—a sudden drop in wind, the sight of phantom lights upon the waves.

15th Day of May, Anno Domini 1809 In the dead of night, a fierce cyclone did strike with the fury of a thousand tempests. The winds howled like demons, and the waves rose as mountains, battering our vessel. The crew fought valiantly, but the storm’s wrath was unrelenting.

16th Day of May, Anno Domini 1809 Thus ends our ill-fated journey, wrought with hubris and haunted by shadows. Mayhap the treasure was never meant for mortal hands, its guardian a force beyond our ken. I write this with trembling heart, the storm’s roar my dirge. If these words endure, let them serve as a warning: that greed oft bears a heavy price, and some mysteries are best left undisturbed. The ship has begun to splinter and sink, I know our fate is sealed. In those final moments, I am taking up this diary, my sole testament to our tale, and place it within a glass bottle. With all the strength I can muster, I cast it into the roiling sea, praying that it might one day reach another’s hands.

May God have mercy upon our souls. — The Last Testament of Thy Faithful Servant.

After reading this diary, I felt a chill run down my spine. I didn’t know what to make of it. Perhaps some things can’t be explained, and maybe, just maybe, ghosts or unseen forces do exist. So, be careful, and remember that some mysteries may be beyond what we can see…