Fiction
A
few years ago, I was holidaying in Kerala.
One of the many journeys found me reaching the sleepy little town
nearest to my home late in the night. The
last bus to the village had left three hours ago. A couple of auto-rickshaws waited languidly
for weary passengers. I was not weary
and I decided to walk. The few drinks I
had just had along with a light dinner roused up the romantic spirit in
me. I thought of the winding village
road lined with a variety of trees on both the sides.
The
sound of cicadas kept me company as soon as I left behind the lights of the
town. There were very few street
lights. Fireflies danced mirthfully
teasing me. The moon shone brightly in
the sky and the beams filtered through the leaves of the trees casting weird
patterns on the road. Occasionally a dog
barked from some veranda and then went to sleep again.
The
village cemetery lay a few hundred metres from my home. As I passed by the cemetery I saw a figure
standing in the middle of the narrow road bathed in the moonlight. It did not move at all. The whisky was still playing with the spirits
within me and I felt unusually enthralled by the moonlight.
“Hi,”
I said. “Nice moonlight, eh?” Whisky has this magical ability to strip one
of inhibitions.
“Hi,”
the man responded. His voice sounded
metallic. I continued to walk but was stopped by what he said, “What are you
searching for?”
“Nothing,”
I said. “I’m going home.” He came and stood right in front of me. It was then that I noticed his face. It was positively ugly. Menacing.
Diabolic. Or maybe I was mistaken.
Was it anguish that distorted his face thus? Pain can warp one’s facial features beyond
our imaginations.
I
smiled at him. I have this habit in my
genes. I smile at almost anybody and
everybody. I can smile at stones
too.
“Aren’t
you frightened?” he asked.
“Well,
should I be?”
“I
am a ghost.”
“Oh,
glad to meet you,” I stretched out my hand for a friendly shake. He reciprocated with a growl that revealed
his misshapen teeth.
“I
am a ghost,” he repeated.
“I
suppose you are. Can I help you?”
“You
are supposed to be frightened of me.”
“OK,
if you wish ... I’m feeling frightened.”
I tried my best to look frightened.
I had a strong belief in those days that no creature on earth could be
more dangerous than human beings. I
didn’t know how an immaterial spirit could be dangerous.
“If
you are not frightened then what use am I as a ghost?” he said that more to
himself than to me.
“Is
frightening others the only purpose in the life of a ghost?” I asked.
“Ghosts
are used to that. Used to people being
frightened. If you don’t feel frightened
by me, then I must feel threatened by you.”
“Why?” That was a strange logic but it struck me as
quite rational.
“One
being’s fear is another’s sustenance.”
“Why
don’t you go to sleep just like other human beings who are...?” I changed the
topic intentionally though I couldn’t bring myself to use the word ‘dead’. “Why do you walk around instead of...”
“I’m
searching.”
“For
what?”
“I
don’t know. That’s why I need your help.”
“How
can I help you to find out what you’re
searching for?”
“All
my life I was searching.”
“Not
knowing what?”
He
did not answer. Isn’t life a futile
search? I wondered.
“What’s
it like ... after ...” I didn’t know how to put it.
“After
death, you want to say?”
“Exactly.” I patted his back to alleviate the pain
possibly caused by the word. His back
felt like icy mist. We had sat down on the low wall that separated the cemetery
from the road.
“I
don’t know,” he said rather helplessly.
“Unless I end my search, I may never know.” He paused a while and then said, “But there’s
something I can tell you that you’ll find interesting. The secret of happiness in life. It has something to do with search.”
“Tell
me,” I said without concealing my eagerness.
He
groaned. Somewhere a cock had
crowed. Kalan kozhi, I said to myself.
The crow of the cock at an unusual hour in the night is a herald of the
god of death, according to the folklore in the village.
“I
have to go now. Come tomorrow
night. I will tell you the secret.” He vanished in a moment.
I
forgot the whole incident the next morning and failed to keep the rendezvous in
the night. But the night after that the
crow of the Kalan kozhi reminded me
of the ghost. I got up from bed and
walked towards the cemetery. And waited
for the ghost. He did not come.
PS. Publishing this story under the hashtag
theme of Indiblogger: #incompletestory.
The story is incomplete. I can’t
complete it unless I meet the ghost again and there seems to be no chance of
that.
Nice read.. I like incomplete endings :)
ReplyDeleteAnanyaTales
Incomplete endings are like life?
DeleteA nice incomplete story...enjoyed reading :)
ReplyDeleteGlad to have entertained you.
DeleteThis ws too good. The flow of story was very convincing. And incomplete stories r d best!
ReplyDeleteThanks. I have walked that village road umpteen times at all sorts of hours
DeleteLovely... :-) was very intriguing. even I want to knowthe ghosts's secret... do share if you stumble upon him on another romantic starry night :-)
ReplyDeleteArchana, the secret is within all of us, deep inside. As far as I have learnt nobody else can teach us the secret of our own happiness. :)
DeleteGreat story. When I started I thought the ghost was searching for happiness. Poor ghost! If he knew the secret, why didn't he find happiness?
ReplyDeleteThere's a huge difference between knowing and living the secret. That's why the ghost and most of us are condemned to go on searching for something that we already possess...
DeleteAre you sure this is fiction??? I so wish it isn't! Very convincingly written!!
ReplyDeleteBoth fiction and reality, Sreesha. Fiction because the ghost is a creation of my imagination. Real because the dialogue is one of the many that keep taking place in my mind as I walk.
DeleteInitial part of the story remind me of Bhootnath series. We should be scared of ghosts but then, as you mentioned human are more twisted and dangerous of all species. I wish you can complete this series, it is very interesting.
ReplyDeleteAs I said in another comment above, the conclusion is to be made by each one of us. Happiness is our choice. The search can go on or end depending on our choice.
Deleteinteresting...
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteYour story had a very nice flow. Enjoyed reading it.
ReplyDeleteGlad you did. Thanks for the encouragement.
DeleteI always wonder why people get scared of the ghost,in fact,that's always with us.Of course sometimes sans body...!
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely, Murthy ji. That's just what I meant, in fact. The answer lies within ourselves, whatever the form may be. One could imagine encountering the god instead of a ghost.
DeleteTomichan ji, get all these ones in to a book.Solid readership guaranteed.
ReplyDeleteI'm actually working on a different book, a novel. That will take time, however.
DeleteInteresting read but a dumb ghost!
ReplyDeleteNot dumb really. You're prejudiced about ghosts, I think
DeleteVery interesting but I can't digest an incomplete ending!!!!!!! This story is going to haunt me now.. How about a second part????
ReplyDeleteThat haunting is the real second part of the story
DeleteAnd this remains incomplete.... A very good story.. kept me gripping till the end only to realize it will all be incomplete.. A good read..
ReplyDeleteGlad my ghost gripped you :). Yes, it has to be incomplete.
DeleteExcellent story, narration, visualization.........But waiting for the Part II...... Hope will get to read soon....
ReplyDeleteYou are the third person asking for a sequel. I think I must get the ghost to haunt me again :)
Delete"Pain can warp one’s facial features beyond our imaginations." and also anger. A smiling face no matter how ugly still look beautiful :) Anyways, I liked the story as always..
ReplyDeleteTrue, Roohi, a smile makes the face look angelic irrespective of the physical endowments. A genuine smile can only come from a good heart.
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ReplyDelete