Today at office, during the
coffee-break, some of my senior colleagues shared some interesting information.
A couple of years ago, a bank
functioned in our present office premises and an employee had committed suicide
and his ghost still haunts the ladies’ toilet (of all places). It was discussed with sincerity and great
belief.
Though I laughed at them, like
everyone else, I am curious to know about the “ghosts”. When I was young, I was afraid of many things
and based on the ghost stories I have heard and the way ghosts are projected in
films, I developed fear, but as I grew up, with my scientific temper and
rational thinking, the “fear of the unknown” slowly vanished.
The first ghost story was narrated
to me by my eldest brother. It was a
story he had read in a magazine. The
story goes like this; a photographer took photos of an old deserted building
for its aesthetic value and when he developed the negatives and printed
photographs, he was shocked to see the image of a nun standing near the gate of
the old house. After listening to this
story, for a very long time, I was scared of every nun I saw.
My brother later shared his
personal experience as well. When my
brother was in his early 20s, he lived alone and worked in Hyderabad. He usually spent his weekends with our relatives
in and around Hyderabad and one weekend, late in the night as he was walking
towards my cousin’s house in a remote suburb, a westerner along with his gigantic
dog came close to him and asked for time in chaste Urdu and both the person and
the dog vanished within seconds of my brother replying. My brother was very surprised with this
incident and on an enquiry, he was told that several years before, an
Englishman, who had a dog, lived and died there.
My friend too, narrated his
friend’s experience. My friend’s friend,
when he was young, had a friendly old man in his neighbourhood. The old man greeted the boy in reference
every time the boy walked past his gate.
The boy went on an excursion for a few days and upon his return, the old
man stopped the boy, greeted him as usual and discussed details of his
excursion. The boy returned home
cheerfully, only to learn that the old man had died the same day the boy went
on an excursion and that the funeral too was over by then.
(It is always better to hear
from the horse’s mouth and as and when my brother and my friend share this
information in their respective blogs, I shall share it)
A couple of years ago, while I
was asleep, I suddenly woke up due to a very uneasy feeling and was very
confused. The next day, I woke up at the
same time and experienced cross-ventilation of chill air. I can rationalize my experience thus. However, I am very eager to know more about
the existence of ghosts.
The guy I encountered was a giant of a foreigner with a huge dog. I was walking on a small hillock on a very narrow path lit only by the TV tower afar. Suddenly, he, along with his dog, appeared before me in strange thin undergarments (not in the bad sense, but thin muslin like garments) on a chilly night (Hyderabad can be very cold in December in 1970s) and asked me in English 'what time is it'? When I told him about 10-30 pm he was clearly irritated and asked me again the same question. By the time I could even comprehend why he was asking me the same question, he was behind me with his dog and soon vanished out of sight. The path was so narrow that unless I gave way, they could not pass me and I did not even move but they were behind me. I was, well, scared naturally. Being an upward mountain path, I could not run (I was never a good runner anyway) so I walked rather fast and checked for any foreigner guests in the remote colony, I was visiting, which had hardly any houses. The next day I discovered that there was a tomb nearby on the same hillock where a foreigner was buried almost a half century ago (now maybe a century) along with his beloved horse and dog. But the enigma increased as the guy I found was without his horse and speaking English while the buried man was French! :-)
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