Thursday, February 21, 2008
A love for the supernaturals is a deep seated human instinct. How often has the child in us craved for "A tale, a tale."
As infants, we sat upon our mothers' laps, spell bound, with our hands clasped,our faces radiant and beautiful in the highest realm of happiness, as our mothers quietly began "once upon a time ....." When our mothers ended with "..... and they lived happily ever after," we were already snoring happily. As a child, our tastes for stories changed to ghost stories. No longer do stories with happy endings satisfy our yearning for the supernatural elements. We then preferred our uncle to our parents because the former could tell us about the mysterious beings and spirits that flit about in the night.All other voices ceased as the story tellers' voice droned on. Every eye fixed itself up him. With parted lips and bated breath we hung upon his every word , taking supernatural strength with time. As we grew older , we turned to books like "Darcula." These stories fascinated as well as haunt us. If we were terrified by merely listening, you could well imagine my terror when I was the heroine or rather the coward of one of these stories. I fled from the climax of the story to ignominious disgrace. I am still uncertain whether what I have to relate below is an actual experience or a mere tale. You be the judge .
Three years ago, I stayed with my uncle during the holidays . His house is situated in the outlying district of Kedah , and is surrounded by trees which grow wild. The place was desolated and it is therefore not surprising that, on night, our conversation turned to ghost stories. My cousin, a few years my junior, told me that about a quarter of a mile away , there was a haunted house. A tragic tale is attached to this house. It is said that twenty years ago a young couple moved into that new house. They were happily married and life in front of them was bright and rosy . But then, that very night tragedy struck and the couple failed to survive the deadly blow. The ominous silence and weird atmosphere of the night had strung the nerves of the young woman to a high pitch of tension. That night , a quarrel broke out owing to disagreement in the arrangement of a table. Hot bitter words were exchanged and the young woman cried and left. The husband in anger took his own life by means of a rope. Thus ended the unhappy story. My uncle said that the woman might still be alive, but a happy family was shattered anyway.
My curiosity was aroused. Being a braggart, I naughtily declared my intention to pay this place a visit at midnight. My uncle only laughed at my "childish ideas" and this provoked a greater determination in me to prove him wrong . That night I woke up a little before midnight. Everything was dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness , little scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize themselves. The ticking of the clock began to bring itself to notice. I roused my cousin from her dreams and asked her to bring me to that place. My cousin agreed and armed with a torch we set off through the jungles, and came upon the "haunted house". We pushed the door open and climbed the stairs, and reached a small room . To our astonishment it was perfectly clean. It was as if the room was bing used. I had another shock. A light was flashing from across the room and as we moved nearer, it seemed to approach us. Two pairs of what seemed to be eyes glared at us from behind the light. In my fright I dropped the torch, plunging the room into darkness. I heard a piercing shriek and this was answered throughout the house by blood-curdling shrieks, which crescendoed until it seemed that the house was filled with ghosts , unleasing their fury on us. Suddenly a deafening crash broke the silence of the house. I picked up the torch and pulled my cousin and sped downstairs. As I reached the ground, my torch showed something menacing, appearing to come towards my face. My heart missed a beat - may be two. I focussed my torch at the "something." There , in a shaft of light from my torch was a loop of rope , swaying gently in the still air.
I had had enough. Without a backward glance , I pulled my cousin and together we took to our heels . We sped on and on towards home, speechless with horror. We could hear the foot steps of the pursuing ghost as it steadily gained on us. When we glanced apprehensively over our shoulder no one could be seen. The last thing I remembered was when I saw the house. Then I must have got into the house and sailed into slumberland.
AISHA : Can I fly Over The Rainbow Like The Bluebirds?
1:51 PM
