Photo for representational purpose.
Credit: Reuters photo
We had recently moved to a new city and were allotted a house in a gated community. Surrounded by verdant trees and flowering plants, our new abode on the ground floor of a three-story building was nothing less than a resort. Our hearts were filled with gratitude and joy as we quickly settled into our new home. Soon, my husband left on an official tour, leaving yours truly and my son behind. Being a secured neighbourhood, we had no worry in the world about unwanted intruders (read thieves).
As dusk made its presence felt, I curled up with my favourite mystery novel while my son immersed his head in a comic book. Within minutes, he fell asleep, while I continued to bask in the sounds of silence. As I delved deep into the murder plot, a jingling sound near my bedroom window made me sit upright. “Was it my imagination or did I actually hear a sound?” I wondered. With eerie stillness around me, the sound became quite distinct. My auditory receptors recognised it as an anklet sound. Who would walk around our compound at this time of the night? I questioned my fear-filled brain. However, I mustered the courage to turn the flash light on. I was quite convinced now that a face would suddenly appear on the other side of the window, as in movies or horror novels. With sweaty palms and a fast-beating heart, I started chanting this line from Hanuman Chalisa: ‘Bhoot Pishach Nikat Nahi Aave, Mahavir Jab Naam Sunave (Ghosts and demons cannot approach when the mighty Hanuman’s name is invoked).
I waited for nearly half an hour by the window sill with no avail. The unwanted sound had disappeared into the darkness while my droopy eyes signalled that I was way past bedtime. Though I had a disturbed sleep, I convinced myself that the anklet sound was just a figment of my overactive brain and nothing else. Alas, it was not so. The following two-three nights, the same sound filled the night air and sent a shiver down
my spine. I refrained from switching on the flash light lest I disturb this ‘petrifying’ intruder.
Unable to tell my son or discuss with my husband, I kept my fears bottled up inside me. As I sat in the balcony the next morning with a cup of tea, my train of thoughts and tea cup were smashed to smithereens as my first-floor neighbour’s cat suddenly jumped from the terrace to our balcony. I let out a loud shriek and almost missed showering the cat with the hot tea. The cat’s fear was probably greater than mine on hearing my high-pitched scream. Both of us stood transfixed, staring into each other’s eyes. That is when I noticed a string with tiny bells around its neck. “So, you are the four-legged predator who makes the jingling sound at night.” I smiled and heaved a sigh of relief.