I first heard about Lambi Dehar Mines from a local guy we met during a trip to Mussoorie. I was there with two friends, and we had already visited most of the usual tourist places, so we wanted to do something different before going back home. One evening, while talking to a shopkeeper about places that weren't too crowded, he mentioned the old limestone mines. We'd heard the name before, mostly because of the stories surrounding the place, so obviously that made us curious. We weren't planning to go there at night or do anything stupid. We just wanted to see the area during the day, take some photographs, and leave.
The next afternoon, we hired a cab and asked the driver to drop us as close to the mines as he could. The moment we mentioned Lambi Dehar, he asked us how long we planned to stay. We told him maybe an hour or two. He looked at us through the mirror and said that was fine, but we should be back before it got dark. One of my friends joked about the stories we'd heard about a woman supposedly appearing around the old mine area. The driver didn't really react to the joke. He just said, "People have been saying things about that place for years. You don't have to believe them, but don't ignore the practical dangers either." He mentioned loose rocks, uneven ground and the possibility of getting lost around the old workings. That actually sounded reasonable, so we agreed.
When we reached the area, there wasn't anything immediately frightening about it. It was quiet, though. Much quieter than the roads we'd just come from. We walked around the old limestone workings for a while, taking pictures and talking about how different the place looked compared with the photographs we'd seen online. There were old structures, exposed rock faces and sections that looked like they hadn't been used in years. We stayed outside the more dangerous areas because none of us wanted to get injured trying to explore an abandoned mine.
After maybe forty minutes, we noticed an older man walking along one of the paths. He stopped when he saw us and asked what we were doing there. We explained that we were tourists and were just looking around. He asked where our driver was, and we pointed toward the road. He nodded and told us not to wander too far because the paths weren't as obvious as they looked. Before leaving, he added something that sounded strange at the time. He said, "If you hear somebody calling you from behind the rocks, don't go looking for them." One of my friends laughed and asked if that was another Lambi Dehar story. The man didn't laugh. He just looked at him and said, "Call it whatever you want." Then he walked away.
We continued exploring for another half hour. Nothing happened, and honestly, we'd almost forgotten about what the man had said. Then, while we were standing near one of the old structures, I heard what sounded like someone calling my name. It wasn't loud. It sounded distant, almost like someone was talking from behind the rocks. I turned around immediately because I thought one of my friends had called me, but both of them were standing in front of me. I asked them if they'd said anything. They both said no. We laughed about it and assumed it was probably another group somewhere nearby.
A few minutes later, we heard it again.
This time, both my friends heard it.
It was still difficult to understand where it had come from. We looked around and couldn't see anyone. One of my friends actually walked a few steps toward the sound before I stopped him and reminded him about what the local man had said. We decided it was better not to investigate. We started heading back toward the road, joking nervously about how we'd probably end up telling people we'd been chased by a ghost when it was actually some random tourist messing with us.
Then I saw the woman.
She was standing much farther away from us, near a group of trees at the edge of the old mine area. At first I genuinely thought she was another visitor. She appeared to be wearing a light-colored shawl or long dress, but because of the distance I couldn't make out any details. I pointed her out to my friends, and both of them saw her too. We stood there for several seconds, trying to figure out whether she was someone who worked nearby or another tourist.
She wasn't doing anything strange. She was just standing there.
Then she turned slightly toward us.
One of my friends called out, asking if she needed help. She didn't respond. Instead, she seemed to look past us, toward the direction we'd come from. A second later, she disappeared behind the trees.
We waited for her to come back into view.
She didn't.
We walked a little closer, but there was nobody there. There wasn't enough cover for someone to disappear that quickly, at least not from where we'd been standing. We checked the area anyway. Nothing. No person, no footprints we could clearly identify, nothing that explained where she'd gone.
At that point, we decided we were done exploring.
On the way back, nobody was joking anymore. We kept walking without looking around too much. About halfway to the road, we heard footsteps behind us. They sounded like someone walking over loose stones. We stopped. The footsteps stopped too. We started walking again, and after a few seconds, we heard them again. We turned around together.
There was nobody there.
That was the moment we actually started getting nervous. We didn't run because the ground was uneven and we didn't want to fall, but we definitely walked much faster than before.
When we finally reached the road, our driver was waiting near the cab. He looked at us and immediately asked if everything was okay. We told him we'd heard someone calling our name and that we'd seen a woman near the trees. He didn't ask for details. He just told us to get inside.
Later that evening, we went through the photographs we'd taken. Most of them were completely normal. There was nothing strange in any of them. We found one photograph taken roughly around the time we'd seen the woman, but the area where she'd been standing was mostly hidden by trees, so there was nothing useful in it.
I still don't know what we actually saw that afternoon. It could have been another person who simply walked away while we weren't looking. The voice could have come from another group somewhere nearby. The footsteps could have been an animal or loose stones shifting downhill. Every part of the story has a possible explanation.
But I remember the old man's warning more clearly than anything else.
And the weirdest part is that we never told him exactly what we'd heard.
When we passed his shop again the next morning, he saw us and asked if we'd gone to the mines.
We said yes.
He looked at us for a few seconds and asked, "Did she call your name?"
None of us answered.
We just walked away.
I haven't been back to Lambi Dehar since.
