Scribbles by Sudhansh

1.

“Are ghosts real Amma?”

A question that posed the old lady in a dilemma as her eight-year-old grandson asked it out of nagging curiosity. She’d heard stories of ghost encounters in her considerably long life but never really had a first hand experience. Not the dead ones at least. 

  The countryside had frequent paranormal appearances witnessed by almost every age group. Sometimes a grey haired, red eyed monster would appear out of thin air to demand tobacco from the old men. Other times, a witch in white saree would chase somebody with her inverted feet. And that would give birth to a new wave of speculations on who that woman could potentially be. Back in the days of Emergency, the village Kotedaar had been declared cursed because he had unsuccessfully tried to kill a snake. Now, the belief was that the snake would seek vengeance through an image he had clicked in his memory. 

  However, after a brief contemplation, Amma would deny any paranormal existence. She believed in their existence for sure. There’s no smoke without fire after all. But she knew what and what not to tell an eight years old. But her face lit up at the thought of what would be a better story to tell on a starry night of an Indian July.

 

   2.

  It was about her father who served in the Great War as an Allied Soldier from British Indian Expeditionary Forces . When he was about to leave, there were folks from his village who disgraced him for serving white cunts. Others showed excitement at the thought of seeing a foreign land. They clearly haven’t heard a radio broadcast in their lives. Sarpanch Ji could afford a radio for sure but that poor little instrument clearly felt rejected at how nobody cared about its purpose of invention. Sarpanch Ji would lie on his cot at dusk and listen on his radio to that little girl….Ah…Suraiyya it is!

Panchhi Jaa, peeche raha hai bachpan Mera….

Usko utha ke laa! 

(O Songbird, my boyhood is lost in the past. Go fetch it, would you)

And few tear drops would slither down Sarpanch Ji’s cheeks. His daughter saw him listening attentively to that song and planned to impress her father with it. And she did! Only to never have the courage to think of singing again. 

   And Amma’s father on the other hand was deployed to Italy to fight Nazis. 

Kahan se ho, dost? His Sikh comrade finally spoke after nearly a week of silence. That too in Hindi. “Where are you from pal?” 

United Provice. Oudh se zyada dur nahi rehte. 

“United Provinces. Not too far from Oudh”

Bhen de takkey, Oudh hi bol deta!

“Couldn’t you simply say Oudh, fucker!” 

The Sikh gave a delightful laugh through his moustache hanging over his lips. 

Soldiers, insects, mice and what not. A state of Utopia where humans and animals were all alike. A soldier would remain desperate for water because of his blown off leg while mice would feed on another one’s corpse. A toddler would be nowhere to be found at one moment while a teenager would forget how to deal with a temporary malfunction in his gun. A wife would lie glancing at her backyard while her husband would look for a felina in an invaded territory. Hungry soldiers from the Great Britain looked for felinas in the Italian towns too. Poor lads didn’t have a release in a very long time. 

  Two hungry lads once started chasing a felina who wouldn’t have been more than thirty. 

Short chase with two lads too tired to run!

Tired enough for a full breathe but not enough for fun!

What to do when a scared felina just wouldn’t stop…

Run faster my Allied friend, once she stops, we hop…

Remember we got Viking genes, and a Tudor legacy…

And endless human desires seeking a handful of fantasy! 

WHO THE HELL ARE YOU? HAVE NO SHAME POINTING A GUN AT US? GET BACK AND RETURN THIS WOMAN. YOU’RE FIGHTING FOR US, LITTLE SMUGS. GET BACK OR I’LL SHOOT THROUGH YOUR CRAPPY BEARD!

O Imperialist my lord we understand your purpose…

We got no empathy too but you gotta end your circus. 

We’d be doing the same to her if we were in your shoes, 

But we’re guilt ridden enough to let our conscience loose. 

We killed a bunch of kids with little to no moustache…

They cried like an infant with sound a bit more brash. 

What face are we gonna show in Punjab and Oudh…

Begone with your empty threats and BACK OFF BHENCHOD!

And by the time the glorious story of Amma’s father ended, her eight years old grandson had goosebumps on his arms. 

‘I wish to be as brave and fearless as my Nana”. He thought as his eyes were too heavy to glance at the starry sky. It was a sleep he would remember for the rest of his life.

  3. 

Twenty three years had passed since that good night’s sleep he had in his Amma’s lap. Now, he had a wife and daughter whom he loved immensely. He turned his eyes towards the sky as he felt that heavens deserve a glance. His little daughter was standing beside him looking at the newly released movie poster which the family had gone to watch. 

   He wondered why the stars weren’t visible anymore. But there was a slight dilution in his memory. An instance would often get mixed up with another. One being a result of first hand experience, the other being a story he might have heard long back. He sometimes needed to rearrange what was a fever dream, what felt like a fever dream and what could’ve been a fever dream. All of that would be arranged when his daughter walked closer to the movie poster which seemed like having a supernatural horror plot. 

“Papa, are ghosts real?” She asked. 

And the rearrangement of thoughts brought him closer to a memory of being in Ukraine as a student of Medical Science. 

A combination of dreamy images with nightmarish climax but no end. 

What could have happened to my friends after that day?