Well, I haven’t till date seen any ghost. But I have had some honest to god experiences which makes me certain that the supernatural does exist!
About 20 years back, I was living in a rented room. It was a single room on the second floor of a house which was the last one in its row. Behind the house, the land climbed up to a road which had scanty traffic. Beyond the road, there was an embankment and then open fields.
Often, on hot summer afternoons, we would hear a sound on the roof of this room; as if someone was bouncing a rubber ball on it. We thought nothing about it.
I don’t know why, but suddenly one-day, as the sound started again, I found myself wondering at the highly unusual nature of it. There was no construction over my room. In fact, there was not even any ladder or staircase leading up to it. Once or twice, when we had climbed up on the roof of this room; we had done it by bringing up a ladder from below.
Plus, it was scorching hot; very unusual for anyone to bounce a rubber ball on this roof at such time.
I had a chap called Babloo living with me at that time who used to do the cooking etc. There was a small kitchen attached to the room. After lunch, Babloo would put a small black-and-white TV we had on the kitchen counter, attach headphones to it, and watch movies switching channels. He was a happy-go-lucky guy. I do not recall whether he had noticed the sound of the bouncing ball himself; or if upon noticing it, had found anything unusual in it.
I called out Babloo from the kitchen and we had him climb up on the roof. The sound of the ball bouncing ceased even as he was in the act of climbing. When he came down, he had a small red spongy rubber ball in his hand which was blackened on one side as if burnt or scorched.
Apart from that blackening or scorch mark; it was a perfectly normal ball that kids play with.
There was no way anyone else could have been on the roof at such time. Yet, the ball had been bouncing alright on the roof not only that day, but on a number of days roughly at the same time on hot late summer afternoons.
In the evening, I took the rubber ball, went to a temple nearby and rolled it inside the temple yard.
The ball did not bounce after that.
The other incident relates back to about 16 years. The time it took place – when I look back now – was one of the most significant ones I have undergone. Significant in the sense that I had taken on nearly the whole world together round about this time; and the ensuing battle had almost brought me to my knees.
I was living at this time in a single room; which was on the first floor of a relatively big house, but was separated from the rest of the rooms on this first floor. This room was on one side – and somewhat to the front – of the spacious front balcony on the first floor of the house. It was called the Guest Room and was cut off from the rest of the house on the first floor. A single door was the entrance to this room and opened from the balcony on this first-floor. There was a small bathroom attached. The side opposite the single door entrance to this room had spacious old-fashioned windows, with iron grills in the window space and large solid windowpanes made out of wood.
There were intermittent – and at times drawn out – electricity cuts; due to which the windows were invariably all wide open in the night and, sometimes, when the heat was too much during the electricity cuts; I used to open the single door leading to the balcony late in the night when the rest of the house was sleeping.
At this time, I was either making my food myself or getting something to eat from outside. A helping soul would get half a litre of milk for me, which he would hand over to me when I would come at night to my room. It was generally around 10 o’clock in the night that I would come back to the room.
It was still quite hot at this time and, after a few days; I was scheduled to depart for Delhi. That night when I came back; as usual, this half litre of milk was handed over to me.
Generally I would have some milk and save some to make tea in the morning. There was no access to any refrigerator. So to help preserve the milk till the morning, I would pour out the milk in a small vessel and put this vessel inside a larger vessel holding water. A small sieve would be put as a cover on the smaller vessel containing the milk to prevent flies et cetera from falling inside.
That particular night, I didn’t have any milk. So the whole of the milk was put in a small vessel with the sieve on top and then put inside the larger vessel holding water.
It was a hot night and there was again an electricity cut. Finding it difficult to sleep, I got up and opened the door leading to the balcony. It must have been around 1 o’clock in the night when I did so.
Then I went back to bed and after some time, fell into a deep sleep.
Sometime during the night, as if in sleep or half asleep; I heard some sound near the milk vessel and taking it to be some cat; shouted at it to make it go away, but didn’t see anything in the dark or do anything else or get up. The sound had ceased then. I continued in deep sleep after that.
As light broke, I got up and shut the door leading to the balcony.
Then I remembered the disturbance in the night and went to check the milk. The sieve which had covered the milk vessel had been removed partly away and, as I looked, strands of hair lay in circles on the milk surface.
My mind had not still totally cleared from sleep. I picked up the milk vessel and went to the bathroom to pour the milk in the wash basin, wondering mildly what the cat had done to drop so much of its hair in the milk
As the milk was emptied in the wash basin and started draining away; my eyes got transfixed at what I saw.
What I had taken to be hair from the cat were actually numerous strands of long, thick hair which lay in circles on the white surface of the wash basin now, once the milk had drained away.
Each hair was about 15 -18 inches long, very thick, a little curly, with colours ranging from grey, white to black.
This was no cat’s hair.
It couldn’t possibly be human hair also, so thick and kind of corded was each strand of hair.
I kept looking at it for long. There was no fear as such while I looked at them or as I tried to recall the sounds I seemed to have heard near the milk vessel in the night.
One thing was sure. It was no cat that had come to the milk in the night and certainly no human.
By Shiv Kumar Singh