My examinations were over and the October vacation had just begun. I went with my brother to Badalapur to spend the weekend with my cousin, Deepa. I was just looking around in her room. I picked up ‘Real Ghost Stories’ from her collection of books. This being the first ghost-story book that I ever touched; my nose was buried in the book till I absorbed it. In the evening my brother hurried me up and we returned home at 10 p.m. Mummy forced me to have a cup of milk at least as I refused to eat dinner. I was so exhausted that I went to bed without telling my mother anything about my trip. There was a queer sound. A window rattled. Then followed an eerie silence. Suddenly I felt something heavy by my side as though my mother sat on my bed. I extended my arm to feel her, but I touched nothing! I was scared to look, yet curious to see. With my face buried in the pillow, I looked towards the window with half an eye open. The window was wide open, but I was sure that I had bolted it. A white form slowly moved across the room! I buried my face in the pillow. I could not control myself. I am sure I let off a shrill cry. After a few minutes my fear came under control. I took a sheepish look around to make sure that there was no intruder in the room. I was trembling with fear. Some time must have elapsed. Now I heard both the windows rattle violently. I was thoroughly irritated no courage to look in that direction. Suddenly I had a horrible experience which made me jump out of my cot. Someone was under my cot, bobbing up and down, giving me a bump every time. I was almost petrified with fear. Simultaneously I was growing angry and defiant. All my anger and defiance melted when I saw a nebulous human form exit from one window enter by the other and again exit! This was like some hide-and- seek game! I could take it no longer. I was cold and scared stiff! However my enemy had gone! ‘Vaishnavi, get up, it is already 8 o’clock,’ called out my mother sitting by my side and stroking my head affectionately. I opened my eyes, regained my confidence. I heaved a sigh of relief. What a night-mare! I shudder even to think of the experience. I narrated in detail everything to my mother and from then on I decided that ghost stories are definitely not meant for me.

---

Like it on Facebook, Tweet it or share this article on other bookmarking websites.