They all decided to pay attention to what the spirit had to say for himself, for it was a male voice that my cousin would speak in when possessed. Every night the spirit would appear to enter my cousin's body and over time the story of his life was presented to us. He was a man who had lived in a different time and place, had done terrible things including beating his wife, and was now, in spirit, asking for help to be released, to be free.
Through their extensive network of contacts aaji, grandma, aai, mother, and mama, uncle found masters of the dark spirit arts, and enlisted their help. They all said the same thing: the spirit had to be passed off to an unsuspecting victim. But each had a dramatically different method that had to be followed to the letter to work. One of them made a toran, long string of lemons and chillies, claiming to have cajoled the dark spirits to push the possessing spirit into the toran. All that remained was to find a volunteer who would visit the temple toran in hand, then cast the toran into the street, and not look back. The next person to step over the toran would then be possessed by the spirit and my cousin would be free of her possession.