By: Ranjeeta Nath Ghai
Huge spacious rooms
A long corridor separating
The rooms and the living room.
Flowing curtains that danced with the breeze
Numerous doors with ventilators above
Both sans grills.
A sprawling garden. A driveway.
A parked car.
Open doors that I keep locking but mysteriously open again and again.
Equally huge backyard with
Servant quarters and extra kitchens that were never used.
Someone moves. Disturbing the tranquillity.
A shadow lurks; sneaking in through the back door, heavy feet.
Spooked; I scream and kick.
My scream stuck in my throat like chunks of ice; FROZEN!
I get up SHAKEN; sweating and shivering.
Wisps of dream lingers on.
Echoing in my soul.
Everything said here is true. I have been haunted by this dream since I was a kid. On discussing this with my mother she told me that we lived in a bungalow like this in Agra Cantt. Our house was burgled while we slept in the lawn because of power failure. Maybe I had witnessed the burglary but was only a year old then. That stuck on in my memory and haunts me still.
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©Ranjeeta Nath Ghai, atrangizindagieksafar, 2016.
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