We moved into this house, in 2011 with a two years lease. I have never talked about what i went through since then on a public platform because I thought it would be stupid to talk about mere feelings and notions, let alone the fact that there is a 100% possibility of my own mind playing tricks on me.
Today, when I sit and recollect all the things that have surprisingly gone wrong while in this house- I find they are many. And it all seemed to have bloomed out of nowhere.
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When I moved into this house on a cold January morning, my skin looked healthy, I was happy, my appliances were all in good condition, I was engaged to that sweetheart boy of mine- we stepped in, had a look at the house and we were instantly sold. The big windows, the flooding lights, the airy balconies- it was pretty much a home we were looking to live in.
On a day’s notice, we moved in and started our family. Rohan did not move in yet- but he was about to. And he would be with me, for most days, after work and on weekends. It was just about perfect.
Months went and everything was going fine when we got a pair of guinea pigs. Fuzzy and Zoe if you remember? If not, here they are.
Me and Ro went all the way from our place to Bandra to get them home! Oh what fun times. We kept them in a big cage in our living room and every weekend we took them out to the garden to play and munch on some grass. We loved them.
A couple of months passed when one night I had a dream. That a dark figure is calling me out. It broke. I woke up and fell asleep to dream again. In my dream, within the dream I woke up to find a man hanging from the ceiling fan in my bedroom. I wake up, look at the clock and its some minutes past 2. And then I really wake up and look at the clock. Some minutes past 2.
Spooky as it is, I went to check on the little piglets. They seem to be hungry. I gave them a handful of cherries and came back- sleepy and with a mild headache.
At 7, when I opened the door to let the maid in, I went near their cage. Huddled and glassy eyed- they lay there cold and dead. As if petrified with something they have no clue about.
We buried them in the garden with a heavy heart and forgot all about it.
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Meanwhile I started having huge fights with Rohan. Somewhere there was a tension between the two of us and we blamed ourselves for it. You see, every house has a weak point and a strong one- I am generally the weak one and hence whatever happens is generally my fault. Rohan is the angry one who also has OCD and Im the one who forgets to do things and dont do it properly. But we reverse roles too and make for a perfect yin and yang. I won’t hide that, really. But our fights end with smiles and laughter. These fights were never ending. Very unlike the relationship we used to share.
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One stormy night, I had a dream again.
That the whole world had turned an ugly angle of 40 degree or so. Its twilight time with a tinge of blood red and dark grey in the sky and I must go to Rohan’s home. In a tilted world, I step out of the door and see a man- dark, grim and with gloom in his smile- telling me, “its time”
I look at him and for a split second think of all the good things in my life. The smiles, the laughter, the beautiful world- and I tell him, “Not now. Not today”
I wake up sweaty, feeling jittery and vulnerable. I still wonder if that was death.
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On close heels to this one, I see little marks on my hand- my fingers. The doctor recognized it as detergent allergy. I know once I move out, I’ll be cured.
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Sometime that week when i was heating food, I feel something cold on the nape of my neck. Someone just told me that the soup is bad. I think its my inner voice. I heat it and take a spoonful. Its rotten like its 2 months old.
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I close the door, the door opens. I switch the gas off, it gets switched on. I feel murderous and irritated and everything gets to me. Im hardly the person I used to be
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To make rice in a microwave, you put it for 9 minutes. On one such occasion, we hear a bang and see the microwave on the floor. It was on, hot and looks like someone just took it and thre it off the shelf.
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A week back, I had a dream. That there was an earthquake and I am trying to get up from my bed and run. I fail- the world is shaking, way too violently. I look at the clock in my dream- its around 3.
I wake up with a jolt, I look at the clock- its about the same time.
I survive the night and talk to my sis in law about it the next day. Spooked, I sleep alone again (ro was in himalayas) that night.
Next morning, mishtuk passes away.
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My lil sis in law calls from chennai and tells me she felt something too. And while on the phone I hear something else. I ask her, hey who ur talking to? She seems oblivious and asks me, well I was gonna ask you the same thing.
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We finally decide to leave. The motorbikes seem to have unnecessary problems and hoard of problems are cropping up for no reason. Like the house has a heart and its ticking viciously. Challenging us, every minute.
But we are determined to move, come what may.
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In my culture, they say when something bad is about to happen to you, your pet takes the curse first
In my culture, the god of death is yama. A dark man who comes to take you away
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notions or not, we human beings are equipped with sense that can feel uncanny presences. Whether you believe it or not- I have a feeling that my house is haunted.
I’ll see you next week. In a trouble free new home.
