Horror || Ghost Vaticinators

 This is a small horror story. It’s written in two parts. The second part is found here Ghost Vaticinators Part 2

Part1:

I am Elisha, I lived with one my best friends, Mike in a small house in the outskirts of Seattle. We moved from New Jersey few days back because of Mike’s transfer. It was an esoteric small town and people were very friendly and they happened to know each other quite well. I believe because of a small population it’s not hard to remember names and know each other. Mike and I had been best friends since the very first day of my work where we met. He was friends with my boss. Within a week he asked me out and I accepted to go out with him as he seemed not only friendly, but also very caring. And just like any other couple we planned to introduce each other to parents, when he mentioned for the first time that he had lost his in a car crash. On the very day when I introduced Mike to my parents, Mike proposed to me and we got engaged. Although my parents had always been a little skeptic about Mike, I never took their dubiety seriously. But then I believe every girl’s parents are a bit choosy and dubious when it comes to their daughter’s relationship. I trusted him a lot and we were living together, to be married in a couple of months. The place we lived was a small apartment with 3 rooms and a kitchen opening into the drawing room and a bath. We explored all of the rooms save one. The room was locked and was stuck badly so we preferred not to wrestle and break the door. Mike always used to go back to New Jersey every last two days of the month; he said he had being doing some other part time work as well. I never asked him what work, as he seemed to be worried about our future and I thought he was working hard for some extra money. As usual, Mike told he had to go out of town for a couple of days, but this time I was a bit scared as I was new in town. Yet, I thought I can manage, but the truth was I never lived alone. I got back from work, and I saw my bed was moved from its place. Prima Facie, I thought burglars had entered; probably they broke in and looted. But nothing was missing. In fact the bed was moved but the sheet on it was not, pillows were in place, and everything else was in their respective places. I got scared and called up mike to confirm, it wasn’t him or one of his poor jokes. He seemed bemused and said he was in New Jersey. I started to check every room to corroborate there was no intruder at home. I opened up every room but found everything perfect, except for I saw the third room for the first time since we moved. It was a quirky that the room opened at one go. I gathered myself and thought the best was not to think about it much as the more I’ll think the more I’ll picture gory events in my mind and I’ll end up scaring myself. I ordered food and after finishing the same, I crushed. The next thing I remember was waking up in the middle of the night as I heard my fiancé’s voice. I was baffled, as just few hours’ back he told me he was in New Jersey and that he will return after a day. So, Was I dreaming? Or did he come back early? IS it someone else? am I hearing voices? Suddenly my head was developing a coagulation of thoughts in my mind, some of them horrifying. Still, I mustered courage and climbed out of my bed only to find that it wasn’t just one voice but “voices” and most importantly all of them were originating from the third room, the room which was opened first time that very night. I was terrified as I myself scrutinized the same room before and found nothing odd. I dragged myself closer to the room and tried to listen intensely. I could make out my parent’s voice along with mike’s voice. There was dissension and they were fighting. I got scared but as I flowed with my emotions with shaky hands I pushed the door ajar. I was totally taken aback to see mike, and my parents standing, but something was different. They were not totally visible, their bodies were blurry, and they were somewhat “transparent”. As soon as I opened the door, all three of them looked at me and Mike smirked at me. I looked at him, with fear in my eyes and thousands of questions in my mind. In a jiffy, the blurry Mike picked up the side stand next to the bed in that room and hit my dad, and then my mom. He clobbered my Dad to death. I ran towards them, but just when I was about to touch my mother, everything went into thin air. I was standing in the room with the broken stand which was blown into smithereens. I was crying, my mind was going crazy. On the spur of the moment I saw a girl who looked just like me, sitting at the corner of the room, her eyes were bleeding and she had scratches all over her body and a knife was pushed deep into her throat. She was so similar to me, so twin-like as if I was seeing myself in the mirror. I got up to her and she held my hand, jerked, and she said in a low tone “go away” and disappeared.

The next thing I remember was I saw mike standing next to my bed in the local hospital ward. He explained me that my neighbors found me unconscious in the kitchen and took me to the hospital. It was quite incredible that I skipped one whole day of my life, and most importantly I was in the kitchen, not in the third room where I was supposed to be. After I was discharged from the hospital, I reiterated the actual episode to Mike, but he didn’t pay any credence instead blamed me for my lack of responsibility and maturity. A week passed and I almost forgot the incident, thinking it was just a bad dream and my mind was playing games, although at several occasions I woke up in the morning only to find my furniture moved from its respective places. I ignored them, taking them to be mike’s pranks. But one day, at the grocery I saw the “girl” again, the twin-like girl standing at the end of the store. She was in torn clothes which when I focused harder found it to be one of my frocks and she had the exact same look, the first time I saw her. Her eyes were bleeding and the knife was half way down her throat. I was shocked, petrified. She was trying to communicate with me, when suddenly a fellow shopper passed through her and she disappeared. No one else saw her but me. Curiosity didn’t let me breathe in peace, there were many questions revolving in my mind and I wanted answers. I thought it might be the soul of my twin or my sibling, but my parents ascertained me that I was their only child, my mother neither had lost any child in her womb nor had twins. I went to my neighbour’s place the very same day and interrogated who were the occupants before we moved. At first they were reluctant and loathing but soon they broke the silence and revealed two verities. Firstly they said “your “fiance” lived here before you moved” and secondly my house was haunted with several specters.


To be continued .... Ghost Vaticinators Part 2

The internet is not written in pencil but in ink

Writing a blog used to be considered for people who love writing, who are into literature, but Soon blogging gained popularity and now it’s included in the daily chores of every common man who have an access to internet. People throw their emotions on the web without noticing the ethicality of their words. Some think it is a great way to seek revenge by disparaging and vilifying others; some just want to put their emotions deliberately on a platform where everyone has an access to. For centuries writing a diary is counted amongst the good habits and for some it’s as important as to brushing your teeth before you go to bed. Soon the very same habit was given a digital touch, but what people often forget is writing one’s day on a paper is different than writing the same on the web. A diary is usually confidential and reachable to only few a people but writing a blog means sharing your thoughts with thousands. Blogging is of many forms, some create a blog which is private among a small group only, and some write general articles to be shared with all. And yet it proves Blogging is a powerful tool. It can help change the way one thinks. It is very similar to the concept of movie reviews, which have the power to alter one’s perspective towards a particular movie. I don’t say reviews are the only thing that matters for a movie; still it plays a huge role. I personally have spurned watching certain movies just because the reviews were bad.

Not digressing, blogging helps us to know the different thoughts, suggestions and individual opinions. But blogging can be dangerous too. The reason I entitled the article “the internet is not written in pencil but in ink” (A dialogue that has gone cliché’ from the movie “the social network”) is because young people find this to be a fancy digital tool to humiliate someone in front of huge audience. Of course it’s a coward act of hiding behind the screen, writing repugnantly about someone. But the blogger forgets that though this scornful act of his might have placated him for the time but it leaves a profound impact on the victim's life. The victim is the subject of mockery and embarrassment for a much longer period of time .Not only this, in some cases soon after the assailant's rage pacifies he writes another blog to apologize. Only if life was this simple, everyone would have chosen to hurt and apologize over the internet, an easy way to escape the catharsis. People must realize that virtual life is different from the real life and virtual life harms one's real life. Recent studies which were published in many national newspapers also showed the impingement of social networking on young generation. Although a lot of people say that how on earth will others (the people not involved) ever understand what we are writing about. True, but one must know how this attitude will slowly devoid one of one’s emotions. One will be in a constant habit to skip the “emotional decision making part” of one’s life and avoid conversations. Rather discussing the same and sorting out the matter, he’ll prefer to write about it which will not be of any help. Within few years he’ll become a closed book, a very unsocial person who is hard to understand as he’ll never be able to show correct emotions.
Apart from displaying revenge and aggression on the global platform, few find it amusing to disclose their “affection” on net. Again, it’s very sweet to write good about someone, but is web the haven for lovers? Some find it an easy way to hit the bevy of ladies. I don’t say writing blogs are harmful, as long as the content is helpful or at least the content does not aim a person/group in a negative manner. Sharing recipes, games, poems and articles, paintings or even putting up classic videos or self composed music are some of the ways to make the most use of blogs. And I once read this in a book, that if you are angry with someone, write an email about it but never send it. Just by writing about it we are mollified, then why to send it and make the situation worse. Let’s use blog just for the purpose for which it was made, to share thoughts, ideas that help the world in some way. I know, there exists an evil for every good, but if each one of us try to be good, I hope the power of blogging can actually help cope up with many problems।

This is my view ,I look forward to any cogent arguments against my view.

I am scared of the "living" and not the "Spectre"

People say the ghosts,ghouls, demons and poltergeists are the most scariest and dangerous of all. I beg to differ because i feel in this era, they are not of much concern, rather men should fear men. In today’s world people are so selfish, so egocentric and so highly ambitious that they even risk their lives and in some case many lives to achieve wealth and materials. They forget their own origin, that they are humans and they carry a virtue called humanity which is only present in humans and hence the name "human-ity".But instead "animosity" is prefered over humanity. A certain class of people always tries to maintain their standards and walk at par with the society even if they are not permitted financially. Nowadays this class has permeated so badly that only brand names talk. This ostentatious nature is the latest craze in teenagers which is pretty horrendous as they are our future. People misconstrue that society worships the rich and not the poor or infamous. When in reality society does not really care for anyone, neither the rich nor the poor. Today the verity has lost its value and what remains is chimera made up of lies.

I don’t say that wearing branded clothes or living a riches life is bad, it’s good as long as the money with which all the pleasures are enjoyed is earned in a righteous way. Taking loans, despite of knowing that one can’t pay back, stealing and lying for money, cheating and fooling innocent people, taking advantage of someone’s miseries are some negative ways to live the racy life. And this die hard wish of fulfilling one’s vagaries leads to dire consequences, not only for them but also for others. People are ready to kill one another which is why i titled the article as " i m scared of the living and not the spectre".

i had my share of such an experience tonight. It befell at around 11pm, when stranger knocked on the door. I would actually like to rephrase and write, when a drunk man started banging on the door quite hardly, asking us to wake up our neighbors. He was so wasted that even upon our several refusals and reasoning he kept knocking and bawling incentives. He had some bone to pick with our neighbors over some issue,( and I am guessing borrowed money) but since they were not opening up, he lost it completely and banged on our door for haven. I got scared as i was alone with my mom, it was quite late with very few souls walking on the street and i had no idea if I should call the police. Suddenly several thoughts rushed into my head all starting with the most heart rending combination of 2 words,"what ifs". Soon a string of what ifs were revolving in my head, what if he breaks in ?, what if he follows me later some other day, what if he hurts my mother, what if he has a gun or a weapon.. ?!!
Soon the drunkard switched on a light of our verandah and said he’ll come in the night later to check on us as he was angry with us for not calling our neighbors.

We decided to stay inside the house and switch off all lights and shifted ourselves into a room which was at some distance from the main door. We didn’t talk and i tried to maintain sang-froid and supported my mom. Quite palpable to the situation, I was having a sleepless night, albeit my mom slept as i managed to be strong and held my emotions at least in front of her. It was indeed a very long night as i kept picturing and dramatizing the worst things in my head. I commemorated certain articles I read in the newspaper describing incidents where people killed others to seek vengeance. I never valued those articles and thought it was meant to be for them. Suddenly I felt sorry about all the people who faced such incidents, or about the girls who are being stalked and understood how scary it can get. In between my mother woke up twice and she seemed resilient.

Although we were not even involved in this matter as we knew neither about the wasted guy nor about the money or whatever was being borrowed still we suffered. And as the night passed by i started writing this article. Fear only men, the mortals and not the dead as the dead can hardly do as much harm as living demons can do. After this incident i knew one thing, even if God, or Chinese calendar or Mayan calendar has not planned to end human civilization, Humans themselves have done a very meticulous planning of ending its own civilization. People will kill each other for Lust, vulturine and rapaciousness and in this race to win over the world there will be no Last Man Standing.

Lewd Lyrics

Today the catchiest tunes of Bollywood have the weirdest, most obnoxious lyrics. Yet their popularity has no limit. The reason for the publicity is not just the lyrics merely, but media, be it promos, news or newspapers all work collaboratively to popularize the tracks. But one thing is true; although the lyrics are unpleasant still the music is somewhat better than the regular tracks. May be, the music directors are hyper-excited with the lyrics and they think to produce a different kind of music that is at par with the punk attitude of the song. Who knows.
But along with the promotions several question rises, are such songs good for the society in general? Are people comfortable listening to such tracks with their family? Is obscenity the only way to popularity?

The answer to the above questions would be a NO. Of course, the songs are not healthy for the society. I’ll give you few instances. The lewd lyrics like “Dil tharki ho jaye toh …pyaar do, pyaar lo” are now among the eve teasers’ moves. For them to tease a girl just singing the song is enough. Even if the song is not accompanied with the usual repugnant actions, still it’s enough to embarrass a girl to death. Let apart eve teasers, how would it sound if a 6yr old frivolously sings, “Daddy mujhse bola wo galti hai meri…tujhse zindgani guilty h meri” ?answer: I guess” The ripping of his father’s heart into pieces” can be heard aloud. Not only the words are strange, but even the choreography crosses the line and adds to its lubricity. Who can forget munni applying the “zandu baam” on her buttocks ..!! Imagine the same number (due to its popularity again), being innocuously performed by a bunch of school girls. It would be detestable to anyone. Also, songs like “aaj mere liye chair kheech rha h kal skirt kheechega ; dum maaro dum ” no family would allow their young children to watch songs that may harm their mental character in any way. Children imitate what they see, and the songs have nothing to teach after all. But yes, the today’s directors find obscenity the staircase to promotions, the short cut to make money, and the girl dancing in the video is raised to fame overnight.

Sadly, Bollywood had such numbers before too. Reviewing the Bipasha Basu’s popular number “beedi jalaile” and “Namak Ishq ka” one can say bollywood has always been tainted with raunchy tracks. But then, the movie’s story line demanded such songs. Exemplifying, Movies like Murder , Omkara, Bunty and bubbly (kajrare fame) etc demanded such tracks. Now how can amitabh sing a kawali/bhajan in a bar. Still those tracks did not contain as much repulsive words as present days tracks have. But nowadays every bollywood movie has one such track, just to get the ball rolling. Several movies made solely on “Music” theme have proved how lyrics can be used judiciously. Few examples are “ROCK On”, “LONDON DREAMS” etc. I hope, the directors and the lyricist would understand the deeper impact the songs are leaving on the society apart from the tunes that we often hum unknowingly. I wish the tunes remain the same but with better, meaningful lyrics like old days, where singing the song itself took you to different places in the memory lane.


P.S : the above mentioned songs are just taken as examples, i dont have grudge against any director and the whole article is my personal view on the subject.

The ROOM (Horror)

I m new here
I have never lived in a hostel,
I feel strange…
But I have a story to tell….

Lights went out,
I moved timidly in my room
Searching a match box
I do believe in ghosts
So my creepy thoughts
Started directing scenes of
The script I heard the other day
They say,
There is someone else
Dwelling in my room
Along with me
Sort of an intruder
With no good intentions
My thoughts are plummeting
To the known fact,
Veronica 3rd year student,
Killed herself in this room a year ago
And before hanging herself from the ceiling,
She cut her nerves...
Just to ensure she's gone…
The darkness is giving me premonition
New pictures with scary faces
I m apostatizing my faith
I found the match box
As friction worked,
In the dim lightI saw something in my room
Something or someone...
I haven't seen in my deadliest imagination
A girl hanging from the ceiling
With scratches all over her body
Perhaps the best possible use of a blade
She's completely drenched in blood
Slowly she untied herself from the ceiling
Got down on her knees, smilingly crawled ...towards me
Her red eyes with white eyeballs
Searched something in my eyes
My heart pouncing,
I cried out
My finger ached as the match burnt out
Everything blackened
And there was sudden stillness
I was in dilemma
Whether to light the match again
Gasping for breath,I chose my fate…
And lit another match
I did not see anything but the window,
And the girl climbing down it,
With her every movement
She wiped out the window with strainsof blood
The windowsill pouring blood in the room
Soon the door opened
My nervous system broke down...
I almost fainted...
With everything blurring out in front of my eyes
I breathed out for the last time...
All I remember is the laughter...
May be it was jus a prank...
Planned by my mates
May be there was no Veronica ever...
may be it was a joke...
But I wish I could breathe again......


**********Few years later************
I have had many roommates
But I have a new guest,
And I am too excited to meet her,
Welcome her..
.And show her the destiny…I had...
They say,
I live in this room……