.........towards the stream of thoughts

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR


It was a rainy Sunday night. I was exhausted after a hectic schedule of lectures throughout the week. After a big struggle I was able to finish my boring land law assignment. It was eleven forty five.
The sky was little clear after the heavy downpour since morning. But the monsoon winds were blowing hard. I placed aside the novel “Woman in White” which I was reading to escape from monotony while doing the assignment.

The window banged with the heavy wind. I stood up, closed all the doors and windows of my little boarding room shut and crawled in the bed. What I only closed my eyes tight and took an effort to take a nap since the weather was blessing enough to have a sound sleep. I wondered how nice it could have been if mom was near me. Then I would be sipping a hot coffee prepared by her while resting my back on the comfortable pillow of my canopy bed at home.

There was a drizzle outside. Rain drops flowed down from the window pane remaining a misty mark on the glass. Leaves and withered flowers carried by the wind fell on the balcony and some remained on the surface of the window soaked in the rain water. Within few minutes the drizzle converted to a torrential rain with thunderstorms.

Except the sound of rain and thundering there was no other sound. I could even hear the ticking noise of the clock.

Suddenly there was a lightning spark and then it thundered causing a power cut.

Then there was a heavy thud in downstairs.

“What was that sound?” I wondered.

Then there was a silence for few seconds. I ignored the sound and blew out a sigh. But I listened attentively.

Again there was a sound like a soft knock on the door downstairs.

“Who is at this time?”

I took the torch under my pillow and pointed it to the round wall clock hung just above my bed. It was sharp twelve at midnight.

I felt little drops of sweat emerging from my skin even in the rainy weather. I tried to ignore the sound. But to my utmost fear the noise continued.

I tried to forget it and stay as if I didn’t hear anything. But the sound became louder and louder.

The ghost story I read in the morning started to haunt in my mind. I stood rooted on the spot being unable to make even a step ahead. But I could not tolerate this any longer either.

Finally I mustered all my courage and took the torch from one hand and the pen knife from the other. Whoever the ghost stands in front of the door I determined to face it. I walked so slowly and even I could hear my heart beating fast.

I turned back and halted after few steps to make sure there is no ghost behind me trying to smother me with its blood stained, evil, cold hands. I was shivering as if I was dropped in North Pole.

My hand and whole body started to shake violently as soon as I reached the door. I bite my lips which were almost dried and my throat was locked as if I have swallowed a lump of iron.

“What will happen if some ghost kills me in this lonely boarding house? Even my parents or roommates are not here to rescue me” My heart pounded in a terrific rate that I thought I will die on the spot.

I gripped the pen knife in one hand and opened the door while stepping behind as a measure of defense. I was ready to see a ghost with a blood shedding face. I inspected everywhere near the door and around with the help of dim light emitted from my old torch.

Then there was a soft utterance of pain. I was still trembling

 I pointed the torch to the place where the noise came.

There was a cute puppy which has badly got wet in the rain.

“Oh dear, you scared me a lot” I smiled and took it to my hands..