Nov 20, 2010

The Haunted Studio

After several months’ long emotional hibernation, when my friend Crax returned to the city, I asked him about his present stay. In former days, I used to visit him at a room located adjacent to an old movie studio. But, when he is back after that long interval, the old room appeared in a perished state lacking human touch.

When I saw him at the nearby restaurant, he at once offered me a tea and said as the reply to my question regarding his stay, 

“What to say buddy! That room is now like a store of rubbish. Rather than spiders and insects, the room is mostly inhabited by dust particles. So, during this visit, I had to choose the cold floor of the dubbing studio”

I startled at once, and asked him curiously, “Hadn’t you say that there was the presence of some kind of spirits in the night at the studio floor?”

“Ah,” laughing heartily, he asked, “do you remember that still?”

“I do remember. You said something eerie was disturbing you during nights whenever you chose that dubbing studio for sleeping. Can you explain exactly what was disturbing you there?” I asked.

He was thoughtful for a moment. Sipping tea he said, “It’s a girl actually”

“A girl?” I asked.

“Yes! She is – 

A cute angelic girl, 
Fragrantful, with a genuine voice!
A pretty little one
With a lovely hearty laugh!” he became poetic for a few moments.

“Is that so? What does she wear?” I asked curiously.

“She used to be in traditional attire, long skirt and blouse,” he said.

“Hmm...apart from you, who else had the same kind of experience while sleeping there?” I asked like a detective.

“Whoever sleeps in that room surely gets a visit from the little girl. By the way, she is a teenager. Don’t get any wrong impression from the usage ‘little’ girl,” he said cunningly. “Also, all others who once got her visit never dared to sleep in the same room again, except me,” he added.

“So you are not afraid of the so-called ghosts and spirits and you have no belief in such superstitions,” I made a factual statement expecting a positive nod from him.

“I don’t know whether I believe in ghosts, but...” he paused a while and continued, “but, at least I am afraid of them”.

“Then, how could you have slept in that same room again?” I asked unwilling to believe him.

“Because, you know, this girl does not generate any fear in me. Instead, what she evokes in my mind is a sense of care, protection, and affection,” he said.

I was silent.

“Whenever I chose that particular, let’s say, haunted place, for sleeping, she would come as soon as the lights go out, and would sit close to me caressing my hairs, etc,” he said.

I looked him curiously and half smilingly.

“And the interesting thing is that I am all the time in full of consciousness, not even in the first state of sleep. So you can’t blame me for imagining and dreaming fanciful things,” he said.

“What is the history of the studio?,” I asked assuming myself to be clad in the attire of a spiritual investigator.

“I don’t know actually. But heard that it was a huge prison during the reign of Travancore Kings,” he said.

“But this studio does not look like a prison. The walls are not that much strong enough” I said.

“Buddy, I mean the location of the present studio was where a huge prison situated during the time of royal rule,” he explained.

“So, how do you explain the phenomena of this pretty girl?”

“Hmm...I think it must be some sad or brutal case. The police might have trapped a girl within the prison long ago. She might have been gang-raped and killed. Perhaps I could be wrong also.” He said. 

I became thoughtful for some more seconds.

Soon, I woke up from thoughts and asked him, “Tell me the affair of the last night. Did you meet her yesterday also?”

“Hmmm...last night also she came close to me and began to chat in her usual playful manner. But, I got worried and terrified due to some unknown reasons of my subconscious.” He paused.

“Then...?” I grasped a breath.

“You know what do I do in such emergency cases? I would extend my hand to reach the mobile phone and would slide its display pane so as to get some light in the room,” he said.

“Then what did you see?” the question was actually dropped from my lips.

“Nothing. As soon as the light appears in the studio room, the apparition goes and what I see inside the room is perfect blankness.” He said.

I relieved and asked him seriously. “That’s ok. Well its better if you will take that appointment so soon,”

Thoughtfully he said, “Hmmm...I too think so..well..err..what did you say? What appointment?”

I said smiling, “Buddy, I am serious, go and consult a good psychiatrist. I think you are not late so far to get a mental treatment”

Nov 9, 2010

The Villain

I was woken up in the morning by the sharp tone of SMS alert. I unlocked the phone, checked the first message, and read,


At first, enviously I realised that I had not seen any dream for so many years; in fact, dreams and dreaming were my childhood fascinations. Don’t think it was my girl friend or someone like that who sent me the SMS. It was from my sensitive friend, Kiran Ravindran, a senior journalist and a film maker by profession, who had some interesting short films and documentaries to his credit. He also is the author of a noted book, which deals with the history of playback of Malayalam cinema. Another sharp note of the SMS alert made me wake up from thoughts. This was also from Kiran. He used to send SMSs like this fashion, one sentence in two or three text messages. The second SMS was a continuation of the first one,

Stopping forcefully a destined-to-be-satisfactory yawn at midway, I immediately dialled his number and asked him about the dream. I had read Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams and I knew that the modern day psychoanalysts have different opinion regarding Freud’s views. When asked about the dream, he said,

“I can’t remember much of it, what I remember only is the fact that you were of a certain villainous character in the dream.”

That was half true. Kiran had just directed a short film for which the screenplay was mine. Apart from asking me to do a role in that film, he gave me the freedom to choose the character also. I chose the character with a villainous nature. That might be what caused him to see a dream with a villainous me, I thought.

When asked more details of the dream, he promised that he would try to remember the forgotten parts of the dream and would tell me in the format of a story filling the missing links.

Two days after, in the evening, he rang up at my number and asked me to meet him at a nearby teashop.

While sipping a glass of hot coffee, he revealed that he failed to collect the forgotten links of the dream.

“But, it was something like a public function, in which both of us were attending,” he said. “Suddenly a commotion started among the gathering,” he continued.

“A commotion? What was the reason? Who started it?” I asked.

“It was you who started the commotion. You caused the trouble among the people who were attending the function,” he said.

“Oh, I see, Ok! Describe me in your dream. Did I wear any sort of costumes like that of a ruffian? Did I have a local headgear around my head?” I asked.

“No, you were in casual wears,” he said.

“Ok, then?” I became more curious.

“Your rebellious actions caused casualty amidst the people. You made something like a blast. Many people were injured, some dead,” he said.

“Were you also injured?” I asked.

He said, “No, I was not injured. But when I called for help, you did not come up. You did not help me.”

“Oh, that’s sad,” I said, “Ok then?”

“I don’t remember much of the dream plot. But I was asking you, Oh, how you could do such a terrible deed! And with a pathetic expression and fear, I woke up. It took some more minutes for me to realise that it was a dream,” he said. 

I seriously began to reflect upon his dream. 

And the film that we did have much similarity with his dream. 

Nov 3, 2010

The Great Sequel

Combined Sequel to The Love Messenger and A Decent Proposal

The desperate lover of the tale of the Love messenger called me from gulf countries some days before, just one day after the decent proposer called and conveyed me the reply of the girl. When I saw a strange, yet familiar kind of number blinking on my mobile display, I understood that it was the desperate lover from the gulf. I asked whether he had tried that number, which I gave him. 

He said, “Yeah buddy, I contacted my teacher using the number. But, when I called him, he was busy. So he asked me to call next day.”

“Did you call him the next day?” I asked.

“You know the nature of my job! I could not even just rise from my seat the next day. And two days after when I contacted him again, he was still standing somewhere else. I really felt that he was not interested to give me her number,” he said.

“How pitiful! So you were not able to contact her. And the tale of the Love Messenger is now at a dead end. What would I tell my Blogger friends?” I got worried. 

“No, but I contacted her....,” he started.

“What?” I shocked.

“Yeah I talked her on phone...that’s what I am telling,” he continued.

I was silent. For a moment, I thought about the decent proposer. He always had nice thoughts about his love interest and considered himself as not worthy to have her as his life partner. But, this girl’s nearness had made him happy and delighted, which I had witnessed on that day when he proposed her over phone. He had got the reply from the girl the very next day that he proposed her. I had asked him over phone,

“Tell me buddy, what was her reply? From your voice, I am truly unable to deduce her answer. My friend in gulf has not yet contacted me. That means, I have no second part for the love messenger. Tell me your story. Let me give my Blogger friends at least an end to the tale of your telephonic proposal, be it happy or sad!”

“Calm, calm, I’ll tell you,” the decent proposer said.

The voice of the desperate lover from gulf over the phone woke me up from my thoughts, “Hey! Are you there? Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I am eagerly waiting to know how you contacted her!” I said.

He said, “Yeah, I had known that she would soon join a specific bank as an employee, since she had already cleared the qualification exams.”

“I remember. You had mentioned such a thing,” I said.

“Well! I googled to find the website of this particular bank and picked up the phone number of its local office. I rang up there and asked whether a girl by her name is working there. After a few moments, I heard that nostalgic well-familiar voice of my beloved,” he said.

“Wah! Wah!” I clapped forgetting everything and my phone fell down freeing itself from my loose clutch. While picking up the phone from the floor, the previous-day telephone conversation which I made with the decent proposer again bobbed up to my mind.

 “Whatever be her reply, I still feel that she deserves better than me,” he had said.

“Oh, that much humbleness is not suitable for great personalities,” I said hilariously.

“What happened to your phone? Can’t you hear me?” as soon as I retrieved my phone I heard the desperate lover’s voice over the phone.

“Oh, nothing! You tell me then what you both talked together?” I dint go for an explanation of my cell phone accident.

He said, “Well, as I said before, we still are good friends. We asked each other about the new happenings around us. Nothing was mentioned about the short term flirtatious affair that we had.”

“So, that’s it? The story of Love Messenger ends there? My efforts to collect your institute’s number have no value?” I became slightly furious.
“Life is like that,” the desperate lover said. 

“What would I say to my Blogger friends? Do they need to wait for further sequels,” I asked out of excitement.

“That’s your job. Mould our characters in whatever ways you like. But as a living man with blood and muscles, what I can say is that this is the end!”

As I switched off the phone, the decent proposer’s curious case again popped up to my mind. As he informed me, the reply from her girlfriend to his proposal was negative. As she told him, unless she had another on-going potential affair, he would have been her first choice. Being slightly philosophic, the decent proposer had opined that, ‘beautiful girls are half married,’ which is being disagreed by me. Though he was of the opinion that she deserves better than him, as a friend who knows him well for the past a few years, I am of the opinion that he deserves better.

So, the tales of the decent proposer and the love messenger end here without much hype. Unfortunate for many of the readers, partially due to my helplessness, both stories ended unpleasantly. But, as long as I stick on to the policy of writing only the truth; all such life-stories are likely to end with a sad connotation. 

(The End)

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