Monday, March 2, 2015

I have seen ghost only once in my life

Diving back to that mysterious experience, I can’t still believe my own eyes. I must have been 7 or 8 at the time and it was in my village in Dipu Jhora under Chengmari Gewog in Samtse. I had not lost my sight then and I was just like any other child in the village, full of life and energy to play around freely. I was living with dad, step-mother and two other siblings. Although we survived mainly by cultivating others’ lands for a certain share of harvests, my step-mother brewed local alcohol which she sold whenever she got customers to make sure that we ate rice and meat curry at least once in a week. My dad was an alcoholic but my step-mother would manage to save some money for the weekly feast. Wednesday was the most favourite day of the week for all of us. It was the day when villagers rushed to Chengmari town for the weekly open market. So every Wednesday when my dad would go to the market, my step-mother would take out whatever little saving she had and would give it to him asking him to bring some rice and meat for the dinner. My dad would carry his basket and leave for the market while we would restlessly wait for his return.

It was one such Wednesday evening. My dad had gone to the market in the morning and we were eagerly waiting for him so that we could have a grand dinner. I still remember the condition in the house. We didn’t have anything to eat for dinner and if Dad failed to return, we had no option but to go to bed hungry. We patiently waited for hours, sitting around the burning lamp. The door was half-opened and frequently I would look at the door to see if Dad was coming. My step-mother was trying to keep herself busy by knitting something as we waited. It was getting very late and the entire neighbourhood gradually sank into absolute silence. I think we were the only ones fully awake at that hour of the night.

As we were talking about dad and what he might bring for the dinner, I casually turned my head towards the door and there, I was surprised to see my dad standing right at the door-step, smiling at us. I still clearly remember him: the yellow shirt he had worn and a large basket on his back. “Dad has come!” I screamed out of excitement. Everybody followed my gaze and they too saw him. But when we asked him to come in, he moved towards his right and disappeared into the darkness. Surprised, we called out for him but no response came. We tried to peep through the windows but he was nowhere to be seen. Scared and confused, my step-mother slammed the door, latched it from inside and dragged us all to bed. We even forgot to feel our hunger and we all went to sleep, empty-stomach.

Only when the sun was up the next day, my dad had come home. When we curiously asked him why he didn’t enter our house and left us the previous night, he got surprised and shocked. He said he did not come home the previous day because he had met his old friend who held him back for some drinks in a local bar and then took him to his house for the night. When we narrated to him what we saw, he got worried. He immediately cleaned the shrine and did some Puja to appease the local deities. My dad used to worship a local deity at home for our general health and safety. Fortunately, nothing bad happened to him.

That was the most mysterious experience I have ever gone through. I am still wondering whether it was a real ghost. When my dad was alive, I used to often talk to him about this incident and he would always say that ghosts do exist but if you truly place your faith in God, they cannot do any harm. “They are just bodiless spirits”, he would say. My dad was one person who never feared ghosts although he believed that they do exist. This was the only ghost I have ever seen in my life. Not too long after this incident, I lost my sight and there was no way I could physically see them again.

1 comment:

  1. Interesting story sir.I too believe in ghosts though I haven't seen one...I don't wish to see any.