Some chilling stuff I bring before you today. Not the usual rants and preaching Jhansi ki rani wali stuff, but for once let me be a real sissy-a total cowering, trembling, sissy who is ready to run and hide underneath a bed.
Yes, for this issue I talked around a bit and found out some real scary tales and some urban legends. I don’t know if they were for real or were just a figment of hyperactive imagination, but they did give me some good and proper goose bumps.
Urband legends are usually passed along in hostel campuses and colleges if you follow horror movies religiously and so is it in real life too
So I too dug out some chilly stuff for you from around some campuses. Whether they are for real or fibs, I cannot vouch, but they sure do make some nice read.
Now there is a hostel in East Delhi- a boys hostel which I won’t name for the sake of public interest as it may cause a panic situation.
It was said that every year a student from the hostel used to die under mysterious circumstances after the completion of it’s construction. This happened for around 4 to 5 years when someone had a brainstorm to do some puja and havan (worship and rituals), to ward of any evil spirits. Call it a coincidence or a miracle, but the deaths stopped after that.
The second one I heard about was from one of my friend, a sad tale and when she narrated it to me on a dark wintry afternoon, you can imagine how somber it felt.
It was about her younger brother who had got through the engineering entrance test. He and three of his friends embarked on a journey filled with hopes and dreams to a far away city. As luck would have it they got a hostel room together. Ragging period in yonder days was harsh. It was hard for them too. But nobody had an inkling of things to come. In a span of one year, all the four friends committed suicide one by one. No suicide letters, no confessions, nor any tales from either of them. Classmates, teachers and seniors were clueless. All four of them faded away as if they had decided on a suicide pact.
Hospitals too are a breeding ground of such tall tales. One of our team mates had narrated me this tale of her hospital. There was this ward of hers, the TB ward which was located well away from the main hospital building in keeping with the isolation practices. At night there would be a nurse and a para medical staff in the ward to man it, and in case of any emergency they used to call the casualty medical officer from the main block. In the non cell phone days, the only way was to send a messenger or the attendant on foot.
One such dark no moon night, when the CMO was awake all alone as he had sent the other staff for a tea break, a thin man came rushing in, asking him to come fast to the TB ward as it was an emergency. Seeing the flustering, sobbing man, he asked him to wait while he went in to inform the nurse on duty. When he came out the man was already gone. Never the less, the CMO rushed off towards the TB ward. When he reached there he could see a small crowd crowding over someone. The sister in charge expressed her genuine surprise when she saw him as she hadn’t sent any messenger herself. She hurriedly whispered to him that it was a dead on arrival case, as he elbowed his way in front of the crowd. Imagine his shock when he saw the dead man to be none other than the messenger!
Then again Assamese villages in remote areas do have their own tales of their local spirits like beeras, dots, akin to genies, imps etc etc. Some even say that a few people can practice black magic and control them to their bidding too. I had heard one such tale which was about an old woman. She it seems was hounded by something mysterious, which used to bother her no end. Stones would be pelted on her roof and walls throughout the night. Windows would be rattled, food used to go bad. She even tried shifting to her relatives place both in the same village as well as to another, but she was hounded even in those places too , swears her relatives. So finally she came back to her home and resigned herself to her fate. Though she did live for a couple of years more, she spent her last days alone in her house of doom.
Finally a story that isn’t is as somber as the others and is laced with hope and good wishes. This is from a friend who I recently met and he had narrated this incredible tale about his grand aunt who died young. His grandmother belonged to a brood of many sisters and after a few days after his great aunt expired, they could see a strange phenomenon. Frequently at dinner tables, the youngest of the sisters would go blank and after a pause of few seconds would start behaving like the dead sister to the last details, so much that they started believing that the dead grand aunt’s spirit had started possessing her and she would become normal on her own after some time. But it wasn’t an unpleasant experience as such and they did begin to look forward to those surreal moments.
But in my opinion, it seems to have some psychological preponderance. Don’t you think? But all said and done try sharing this stories among your friends on a foggy wintry night, around a bon fire in some remote resort or a jungle camp. It will surely chill your bones to the core