Disclaimer: this is not my story, this happened with my grandfather and I am only retelling what he told me.
My grandfather worked as a mechanic in 1960's. His house was around 20km away from the workshop he laboured at, basically on the other end of the city. In 1960's the city was not very developed, there was dense vegetation in and around the city and streets were not properly lit (in India its not a an anomaly even now). Like most streets, this route that my grandfather took to his job and back was also not properly lit and was barely a road passing through a forest like area. That street was kind of isolated, got really dark at night and it had such a small footfall at night that the person who operated the railway crossing at night abandoned his post.
Like every other night around 10pm he was riding his bike on that road to come back home. From afar he spots an old man in a dhoti kurta (traditional north Indian clothing) standing on the side of the road. My grandfather told us that as soon as he saw him he knew something was wrong he could feel it in his bones, he was very uneasy. As soon as my grandfather was about to pass him he asked my grandfather to stop and told him that he was a poor old man and was wondering if my grandfather could give him a lift on his bike. All this time my grandfather had not really stopped to talk to him but had merely slowed down on his bike to hear the man out. Like any other person my grandfather first thought was that may be this man was trying to trick him and rob him. So he decides not to give him a lift, does not even reply to his request and rides past him. When my grandfather got a few meters ahead he turned back to see whether this man was coming after him. He was not expecting what he saw. That old man turned into a young boy, even his clothes changed and kept standing there looking in the other direction, probably waiting for his next victim.
Seeing this my grandfather grew frantic as he thought this was it for him, he started praying and rode his bike as fast as he could to get out of there. In Indian folklore the kinds of spirits that shapeshift are called Go. According to the folklore you're safe if you don't turn back and look into the eyes of a Go. I think why my grandfather is still alive because it was took dark to look into the Go's eyes and also because the Go was looking in the other direction by the time he turned back.
My grandfather took that that road everyday even after that incident as there was no other option. That happened to him only once and never again. He was never experienced any other paranormal event in any other setting either. He told us that after that day whenever he crossed that path he would just ride really fast and keep praying.
I was 10 when my grandfather told us this story for the first time, we were on our way back from a relative's home after dinner. It was my grandparents, my paternal uncle and aunt, their son and I in the car when he took us to that road after all these years. It was very dark and the road was only a one way street, it was surrounded by tall lush trees on both sides and as I said the railway crossing was shut and the post was abandoned at night even in the mid 00's. We couldn't go to that exact spot due to the crossing but I remember feeling so scared and yelling and crying at everyone in the car to not go there as I was scared for my life after all I was barely 10.
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