Pritha Ghosh, a student of class 5, shares the rollercoaster of her emotions in this humorous ghost story that begins with fear, moves to anger, and ends with laughter.
Ah!! A story, Nah!! Let’s just call it an incident—an incident that gave me the experience of fear to begin with, following which I was angry, and finally it was time for me to laugh and laugh out loud when I found who the ghost was. It was one of the days when Baba was out for work while Maa and Didi went out for shopping, leaving me alone. ‘Leaving me alone?’ or was it that I wanted to be alone? I know not the fact, but perhaps the latter seems more appropriate. Or was it just destiny? Well, let’s keep that aside and go straight to the incident.
So as Maa and Didi left, I was left with my best friends, whom the world knows as books. Here let me mention that Sudha Aunty, you know Sudha Aunty? Oh, come on I am talking about Sudha Murty, in this world it isn’t easy to make people understand, ufff!! Well, so I am a big fan of Sudha Murty, and one more genre – horror.
I read a book by Sudha Murty a few days back so for a change of taste I picked up one of the horror stories from my desk and started reading. As I finished reading the first chapter, and my dear skin all horripilated, I heard a sound down the kitchen to add to the goose pimples down my spine. Having had enough I decided to protect myself under the blanket lying in the bed.
But then as I lay under my protection I started wondering if the ‘half an inch’ was sufficient to protect me from the upcoming danger, I continued reading ignoring my thoughts. But then again I hear the sound, this time convinced that I am being haunted, by whom I know not though. But in no time I got the answer, ‘It must be Mishu, Kiki, Romeo, and Leo,’ I thought and called them. For those of you wondering who they are, well, they are my pet cats with whom I am hopelessly in love and so they are too. I called them and in no time the four were next to me in my bed.
A close observation that would make even Sherlock Homes proud, revealed the evidence of milk in their mouth convincing me that it was them. I continued reading. But my peace was momentary as I heard the voice again. I gathered all the courage just like Joan of Arc and walked as slow as a snail to the kitchen.
And guess what I saw. The kitchen looked exactly like a freshly ploughed paddy field, with all the pots and saucers scattered. The plates on the floor and the pluses were running out from the container as if they were joining the Olympic race. “Must be a North Indian ghost whose past life regression is ‘Dal Chawl’” I thought, but then I heard the sound from the living room.
I went straight to the living room armoured with, well let’s say nothing, and what I saw left me speechless for a moment. I saw a book performing the moonwalk like Michal Jackson on the bookshelf. I pinched myself and closed my eyes but things did not change proving I was not dreaming. After a momentary numbness, as I gathered my senses I realized the North Indian ghost was also a bibliophile.
The next moment I found myself rushing upstairs to where my aunt lived. Knocking on the door I shouted “Pishi ….Pishi”, and as Pishi opened the door I explained what I saw earlier. She laughed and said, “Come let us go and find out your ghost.”
Going down the stairs we saw the dancing book, but then I saw my Pishi walking straight to the book and lifting it up exposing the ghost completely. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again I saw the ghost, and guess what the ghost looked like Mr Mouse. It was then my Pishi rescued me from my bewilderment, she said “The mouse must have been hiding from the cats under the book and as it moved the book moved too.”
Honestly my fear by this time changed to an anger, an anger that the mouse fooled me, but then I realized the funny and sunny side of the episode and started laughing along with my mother and sister who had just returned.
But then…..
