Age 8 - Ghosts

Ghosts.

I believe, there is a thin line between the normal and the paranormal. From my young days, I have been always intrigued by the subject of ghosts and spirits. My uncle is partly responsible for lighting that little lamp in my heart - of the uncertainty that surrounds this mysterious topic.

Let me begin with what is considered to be the shortest ghost story. Whether it is fact or fiction - its just for you to decide.

Two men were talking to each other sitting on either side of a bench during a break from the morning walk in a park. Being on the opposite sides of the bench, they couldn't see each other. What started as a general conversation of the weather turned its course towards the paranormal. One of them asked the other "Do You Believe in Ghosts"?? The other guffawed - "No". He turned around to see there was no one in the bench.

I was very afraid of Ghosts. I wasn't sure about why I was afraid but still....

It was a dark night. The lights were gone and the moon was out of sight. I took up the challenge to bring bread from a nearby shop. This was to prove that I was big now - I wasn't afraid of ghosts. I got out of home muttering prayers under my breath. I decided to go quickly to the shop and get back as soon as possible. The shop was a mere 200 metres from my home still it seemed like miles away. On the way, I looked behind - on hearing footsteps. I could see a tall figure following me. I gathered up my courage and moved on. It must be a normal person - I decided.

I bought the bread and started on my way back. Halfway down the track, I could hear footsteps once again. I turned around. The same fellow was still behind me. A shiver ran down my spine - It was all over I thought.... And ran. Ran like hell. My footsteps stumbled on a pebble and I fell - flat of my face. Blood gushed out from the lips and palms. The "thing" moved nearer. Suddenly the power came back on. Light showed on the face of the man.

It was my brother.

Ma had sent him behind me just to see if I could manage on my own or not. My brother carried me back.... I silently wept, not because my hands were cut - but because I had failed. Miserably. I had become afraid.

Though I laugh at myself when I remember this incident, still the fear that groped my heart during that "olympics" run, still tintillates me.

Fear is due to ignorance, due to the unseen.

I will be posting paranormal stuff once in a while in this blog.

If you have any incident like this, do share it with me through comments and email.