It happened a long time ago but thinking about it still brings a rash of goosebumps.

The only time I believed in ghosts was when I was in K-5th grade. Stories of the "blue hand" stalking the unsuspecting girls circulated the hush hush whispers of the bathrooms. Those days I used to be thankful that I was a day- scholar.

Later, much later, I came to the US and forgot about my childhood paranoia of bathrooms. I used to live in the 14th floor, studio apt of a high rise building. It was small, had a great view of the tops of bare, naked trees or lush green foliage depending on the seasons. Stormwatching was my favorite past time and the lightning seemed to shoot right past my windows. And when the wind howled, it moaned like a banshee in pain which gave me a temporary earache in the morning. Nevertheless, I loved the little, sunny apt with abundent leafy, creepy, crawly vines framing my windows.

One particular year, I had just gotten my first job and was working full time as well as carrying 18 credit hours in my haste to graduate. My mother visited me and was shocked at the books piled up everywhere but the shelf mournfully at the corner of my studio. "Haree! hindney thaaon pani chaina! ke halath ma baaseeko hola!" she would exclaim as she tried to tidy up my room. " Mamoo mero kitaab na- saareesyos- na, mero jaanch aaoondaicha ke!" I would say in frustration as I looked for bits and pieces of valuable notes tucked randomly in my text books. My mom would just look at me like I had somehow lost my mind in the paper trail I left from my bed to the dining table to the kitchen and on to the hallway.

One day, I came back home from one of my night classes. It was around 10 pm, I always took the metro where 45 minutes of train ride afforded me 30 minutes of very needed power nap between my job and my classes. As I straggled into the apt, my patient mother had heated up my food and was waiting for me. "Sitara, here is a suggestion, tai le ghar kinna sakchas?" I looked at her in amazement, actually, at her faith in my capacity to buy a house in the US. "Bichar gar, you pay so much rent for this cramped up little place... why not spend it to pay off a house?" "Hyaaa mamoo, hajur pani!" I dismissed the thought. But, the seed had been planted in my mind.

The next few weeks, the thought of owning a house was a nagging thought in my mind. Even the apt began to shrink in size. So, I thought, when I graduate I could afford a house so, why not start looking around. So, decided to have a look-see. At this my mom said, "Hera Sitara, joon paye tyahi ghaar pani hunna ni! You have to do proper puja before you move into a house. Bhoot pret hunchan... yeso hernoo... yahan satyanarayan puja garna ta mildaina tyahi pani...yeso... puja garera matra hai!" "Ha ree mamoo, I am just looking! hernae matrai... maybe in the summer, I will buy one in leisure. kaam bata pani chutti huncha 2 mahina ani matra kinney ke! Tyahi pani Amrika ko bhoot sanga ke daraooney ni!"

So I called up a realtor. Wow! I was looking to buy a house! Sounded good enough for me. Had I even a slight inkling of what was to follow, I'd have promptly abandoned the idea.

************************************************************

To be continued....

Note: Please read at your own risk (this narration is a mental break from the rigors of an assessment prep which is killing me ) and correct the typos as you read (as I am brain-numbed!)

ani,ani ke bhayo ta miss?

"So, what are you looking for?" John, my real estate agent inquired politely. "Well, actually, a townhouse, with back to the trees, a sturdy fence, 3 bedrooms, 2 bathroomsa fireplace, fully finished basement.................................................. " I smiled taking a momentary pause before resuming. I went all out in my wishlist. "Well, at your qualified loan amount, you can't get all the amenities you desire.... but you never know..... we can always look!"

So started my weekend "house hunting project" dragging my mother along to see small, stuck together, piggy backed town houses. "Hyaaaaa... ye ghar haroo aati nai aandhyaro chan ke... yo phei gahiro kholsa parko raicha!... naam matra 3 bed room, closet jatro chan sabai kotha haroo!" commented my mother. "Mamoo, just looking, remember? ali thulo ghar lai tada jana parcha kya. kaam ma pugna garo huncha ni pheri" I explained. Finally, the agent showed us a beautiful house. "oho kasto thikka ko...!" It was new, exorbitant, spacious and boasted of a screened porch where I imagined myself sitting with a book or morning tea. I put out a contract on the house... and waited and waited and waited! My plans for the summer was shot, it was then, there and that house I wanted! Like buying a car... you go with a fixed price and end up paying more just because... of no rational reason imaginable.

Next day, John called me. I had been bumped off the market by another buyer who offered more. ah my deflated spirit knew no boundaries. I gave up all thoughts of ever owning a house. My mother just said "tero pani paali aaooncha, na surta!" That night, the fire alarm blared at 3 am and my mother and I climbed 14 stories down. On the last step at the lobby... I decided I'd buy a house by hook or by crook! Blasted apt seemed increasingly inconvinient to me.

A couple of days later, John called me "Sitara, have you considered foreclosed homes?". "what are those?"
"Well, they are houses re-possessed by the bank because the owners could not pay the mortgage. They sell those houses dirt cheap. think about it." It was horrifying to imagine people being evacuated off their homes due to bad luck. My mother said, "khai... haroom na ta."

"Sitara, there is a newly foreclosed house... you want to see this evening?" John inquired weary of my lack of options. "Sure!"

John drove up in his brand new Mercedes, don't know what's up with realestate agents and Mercedes and BMWs. Anyways, my mom got in too. After some time, my mother said, "Sitara, tyo church dekhyoou...?" "hmmm.. ke bho ta?", "Tyan ta chihan raicha.. chihan katera janoo parney bato raicha...." "Hoina mamoo, tyastai ho yahan. There are many churches ke... ani dherai church ko aphnai chihan huncha ke..." but, it was interesting to think US had desensitized me to the point that passing a graveyard at night would not bother me like it would, were it in Nepal.

Two minutes later we drove up to a small single family house, standing among dry grass, leaves, twigs and scattered soda cans. We got to the door and waited while John struggled with the (real estate) lock. At the click of the combination, he slowly pushed into the foyer. My mother and I stepped in after him. "Ye ye! Ye.. Sitara, kehi pani nachoowa... nachoowa!" blurted my mother in alarm. "Woooa! I thought the bank had cleaned up the place before putting it in the market!!" exclaimed John.

I just stared!!! My skin crawled, the hair on my nape prickled under my long ponytail....
I could not breath. "Mamoo, pharkoon!" I whispered.

****************** to be continued******** pheri

What a nice story, sitara

Enjoyed reading it unlike the much-malignedl 'destiny's daughter'. Waiting for the rest.

I thought it was a survey and I was thinking of voting for captain morgan and coke!

It was an ordinary house, not cleaned, moved in haste and left in a state of confusion. But it wasn't that which bothered me... it was a strange yellow light that bathed the rooms. It was too bright to be the late evening sunlight and yet too glazed to be the bright noon. Then I felt a presence of ... something. I looked at my mother, she felt the same but could not verbalize.

"Ahem, well, since we're here we can look and they can always clean up the house..." John suggested weakly.

We started upstairs toward the bedroom, John, my mother and I and...........something. the master bedroom had brown spots on the carpet, like something had dripped. "hmmm coffee stains... seems like they liked coffee here... " announced John unnecessarily. Then we went to the other bedroom which was decorated like a nursery. There was what seemed to be a splash of reddish brown on the walls. Someone seemed to have continuously banged a watermelon against the off white nursery wall. Brown dripped and seemed hastily scrubbed off the carpet. We hurried out of that room and half heartedly pushed the bathroom door open. The tub... it was the tub which caught my attention... there were streaks of thick, dried, reddish brown goop all along the bath tub. "Lets go!" I almost yelled. My mother ashen faced whispered forcibly, "kasto kasto thaaoon ma liyera aayeko.. yo manche ley". "Ya... sorry about that! This house had just come up this morning!" John appologized.

We hurried downstairs, my heart racing... and closed, secured the door.. leaving the yellow light, the brown streaks and and spots behind us.

But, as I got into the car... the something walked behind me, so close that I could sense it by the hair on my nape....

We went back to my apt. I was silent, So was my mother. "Sitara... go wash your hands and face!"

That night, I had a nightmare... the something had followed me into my apt.

************** to be continued*************

ohh...ultimately an ERIEEEEEE story from SITARA........ohhh i am tooooooo afraid to got to my appartment now.......ohhhhh no!!!! By the way SITARA i want the sweet description of this invisible friend "But, as I got into the car... the something walked behind me, so close that I could sense it by the hair on my nape.... " in ur next postings....and not the scary description coz. i have a very weak and lovable heart...LOL....

* ERIEEEE = EERIE and the other E represents the extent of EERIE....he he he

My eyes flew open to inkblack darkness. The hallway light was out. There was power outage and the March wind was roaring like a lion outside my window. I had stories of "when there is a ghost/spirit in your room at night, you can hear the breathing near you." Well, I didn't hear anything only felt this heavy presence.

The next morning, I could not shake off my nightmares. It was one of those nightmares that has a way of creeping into your subconscious. I skipped breakfast and went off to work.Work lightened my parania until my evening class at the University. 9:00 pm my last class was over. I walked to the metro, exhausted...I had skipped lunch too.

My boots echoed a rhythmic tempo against the hollow metro. Then I felt it, the heavy presence walking close to me... touching, almost. I looked back and didn't see anyone. I boarded the train and was relieved that there were a few straggling riders there. I closed my eyes to catch some sleep.

Next, I heard "Ladies and gentlement, this is your last stop!" jumped up alarmed, I had missed my stop! Damn, strange things were happening to me since the house. I raced out to catch the returning train and got on.

As I got off, the Silver Spring metro, the digital clock showed 10:15 pm.Oh shoot! my mother would be worried! I started walking past the deserted bus lot. There it was again the something, again, felt goosebumps all over. I looked back...nothing! So, I quickened my steps and as I rounded a building corner, I collided into something/someone. "Hey watch it!... Got a quarter... it's kinda late for you innit?!" It was the residential Silver Spring homeless! "Not tonight...sorry!" I barely looked at him and started running. I remembered Denzil Washington's movie "FALLEN" which made it worse because I was convinced, something like that was happening to me. I was being stalked by an evil spirit.

When I reached my apt, my mother looked at me alarmed as I narrated what happened. "Mamoo, ke ho ke le pacchayayi rakheko cha malai, hijo dekhi." My mother said, "Sitara, tyo ghar ma pidit atma thiyo... timi le na pathyaoola bhanera na bhaneko maile." She agonized for the first time since the house visit. "Thik cha ma diyo balera... puja garchoo... whatever it is will go away!"

That, I skipped dinner too. I had the same nightmare mixed with the movie "FALLEN."


********************to be continued***************************** (lunch tyam over!) Final part tonight!

Kya Guf hanne ke

Ohh....eagerly waiting for the final part......i am biting my nails ...n i hope i won't have heart attack after reading the final part....don't make it too scary SITARA....lol

The next day, I called in sick and skipped my classes; I was running a fever. "Din bhari nakhai nakhai hindey pachi birami nabhaye ke huncha ta ?" worried my mother. "Yesto taal le baseko raicha yo...you have to be responsible for your health." chided my mother forgetting all about my the "bhoot, pret and atmas" following me. I spent most of the day miserable in bed.

The day after, work was fine, but I still felt the initial paranoia creeping up as the sun began setting. I reasoned that my illness had something to do with my vulnerable mental disposition. Anyways, took the metro and went to class as usual. During the entire time, I worried about my ride back home.

It was 9pm again. I habitually, took the stairs as waiting for the elevator took its toll on tired students. As I entered the stairewell of the 4th floor, I was fine until, my skin started pricking at some unseen vibe. I started running down the 4 flights of stairs in panic. Whatever it was, was close, around me... my breathing was haggard magnified by the echoes of the stairwell. I had bright spots in my vision and at the bottom of the stairs, I almost tripped on my unravelled shoe lace. As my knees buckled up under the weight of my disorientation, I caught on to the rails. And at the split second pause, I swear I saw.... a shadow flit by me. It was not mine!

I don't recall, how I made it out of there and into the train. But as I got onboard, I heard someone say, "hey!" I whipped around and it was a quiet gril from my statistics class waving at me. Gladly I went and sat next to her. "Hey thanks for helping me in my stat problem,... are you ok?!" she asked concerned. I managed to catch my breath and explained that I had been running (not from a ghost, ofcourse!).

"What's your major?" she asked, "Education and Sociology...What's yours? hey you're graduating too, right" I replied. She replied "Mortuary Science". "What?????!!!!!!"

Yes, I am a professional mortician. I work with dead bodies!

*************************Last Bhag tonight******************

bhanda bhandai darr lagyo Ardent malai pani. :)
TMA will finish it.
Highfly, this is one guff, I wouldn't ever want to repeat in experience. Padhai garam hai ta (dada giri estyle!)

Prickling* and other mis. typos in my one shot narrations! :(

Creepy!!!! But you know Sitara ji... You should have done like I did while ago.. "I stayed calm and cool and smiled at unseen presence... Finally I saw something ..Man in black (I mean black suite but no glass).. Eyes were all white with no pupils.. He made husky sound, but still remained quite and calm.. And finally after couple of his husk - I said "NO ENGLISH".. Finally he dissapeared and heard him say 'Oooopssss Sorry'..."

English najaneko ni Ramrai bho malai ta..Lol!

"Like buying a car... you go with a fixed price and end up paying more just because... of no rational reason imaginable."


I bought car yesterday paying more than what I went with what I had in my mind........


But off the topic............I like the story........please finish up...getting more interesting..............SITARAJI YOU ROCK IN WRITNG........

Ohh...when will the story finished?? It seems SITARA wiould definately give me a heart attack....."es, I am a professional mortician. I work with dead bodies!"...if someone had said that to me...i would have fainted instantly...but SITARA didn't ...good...LOL....now waiting for the final part....

AAAAAAAAAAAHhhhhH! too long too read..

ma ta khali Sitara lai hi bhanna matra ako, HI SITARA :)

The fright I got was almost as bad as the stairwell experience. I scanned her face... she was not kidding. "Where do you work?" I asked in alarm.

"Actually, I am going to my work now... I work at a mortuary affiliated with my church. I work nights so I can study during the day." She answered quietly. I remember working with her in one small project. She was very serious and very gentle in her mannerisms. I also recall she always smelled of some perfume oil... almose like frankincense.

"But why? Why do you work with dead people?... Aren't you afraid of ghosts?" I was desperate to find out.

" Well, I believe, everybody, every living being has a right to a decent, respectable buriel, closure... yes, even killers! So, I also work with the police in restoring bodies found bloated in the rivers, rotting in woods.. I restore them and pray for their souls. Then they get a decent buriel or closer." She patiently explained.

"Goodness gracious! aren't you afraid... those spirits will haunt you or harm you? How can you work so late at night among dead people?" I was hoping, so desperately, that I would find some answers to my "spirit dilemma".

"To be really honest, Sitara,... the killers' spirits don't scare me. I am actually afraid of working with dead/killed babies. I feel the baby spirits hunger for life and follow me around for days refusing to be put to rest.... It has been 3 years now, but in the beginning, I refused to work on babies. But I am getting better." she said in great seriousness.

Then I could not stop blurting out about the foreclosed home and the spirit that seemed to have followed me back home. I told her why I had run on to the train.

She looked at me and said quietly..." a baby died there. The spirit was waiting to latch on to anyone in search of answers... it has been following you. You need to ask it to leave... "go to the light !" Say... 'I'm sorry bad things happened to you but, I don't have the answers you seek.'

I almost cried because she validated my fears... something had followed me home, "Oh God, what do I do... please help me... "I pleaded.

"Don't worry, Sitara... go home, take a shower and light some incense and think of what I said. I am going to work at the mortuary tonight... I will try to call it and give it closure. You will be fine." "Goodbye! and good luck on your finals!" Then, she said, "One word of caution... don't look at foreclosed homes! Don't inherit others' tears! someone else's misfortune cannot be another's gain!"
She got off the next stop, leaving me in a mental mess.

Finally at Silver Spring, I got off... resigned to my fate, slowly dragged myself to my apt. Without a word, I took a shower and lit the incense. I felt sad, for the baby, the family and for myself ( that was the end of my house dream).

I ate with my mother and went to bed.

That night I had a dreamless sleep.

I never saw the girl again to thank her.


*****************************THE END*****************************

Ardent... aba malai nidra lagena! :)

Pisces... YOur men in black did a synchronized dance number too? :)

Ram Prasad... thanks! Well, a little deviation from the standard political threads... This is one thread San won't have to censor! ;)

Hey hey Confused!

Shuva Ratri sabailai!