Suspense Short Story – Encounter with Ghost
Photo credit: southernfried from morguefile.com
This happened almost 7 years back in my native village, which is in Pune district.
We were staying in Dombivli at that time. My grandfather in my native was sick since quite a few days and he was counting his last days. Everyone was expecting the news to arrive at any time and it arrived finally on one day at noontime. I was in office, and my mother called me on my office number and broke the news. She was crying and wanted to be beside her father. Looking at my mother’s condition, I told her to start immediately for native, which is around 4 hours drive from Dombivli. She was concerned about me, but I told her that I have some work and I will start once I finish it, and also even if I start immediately it will take around 2 hours to reach Dombivli from Andheri, so it is not worth waiting for me. I assured her that I will reach there on my own safely by State Transport bus. She warned me to start as soon as possible, because reaching to my native place by ST bus is a bit difficult. As I need to catch a BUS from Kalyan that will drop me to nearest village on highway from native and from there, again I need to catch another BUS to reach my native.
After much argument, my mother agreed and they took a car on rent to reach quickly. All my family members except me left for native. I informed my manager about the situation and requested him for unplanned leave, which he agreed. I finished my job in hand and started immediately. I reached Kalyan around 2:30PM and fortunately, I got a bus immediately. I knew the bus is going to take around 3 hours to reach the village on highway, so I was hoping to catch the last BUS from there, which was at 6PM. Unfortunately; the bus had some technical problems mid-way, which took more than an hour to repair. When I reached there, it was almost 7:00PM. It was winter season and was quite dark even at that time. I had missed my last BUS. I checked with a person around and got confirmation that there is no BUS after that time.
My native was still 8km from that place, and walking the road was nothing less than an adventure. The road does not have streetlights and is infamous for some robberies and brutal murders, which had occurred recently. To add that, it is the season when Tigers used to enter that area from nearby Jungle. Though less in numbers there have been incidences tigers attacking people in the past.
There was no way I could contact my home in native, as at that time there were no telephones in that area. And I did not want them to worry about me un-necessarily in that situation. Hence, I decided walk the road. I thought I would try to get lift once I am on the road. The first 15 minutes were good, as I was traveling on highway towards the road and had ample of light to be able to see everything. On the way, I confirmed with an old woman about the road. Even she warned me not to walk the road and apologized for unable to be of any help, as she was alone at home. She told me that no one would offer me lift, as everyone know about the infamous road and will not take risk by offering lift to strangers.
Still I decided to go ahead with my plan.
I started walking the road with a bag on my shoulder, the darkness around was frightening. Both the sides of the road were farming land most of which was cultivated with sugarcane. The huge stalks of sugarcane were making the situation worst. The weather was windy and very cold. Sugarcane leafs were dancing to the tune of wind making frightening noises. Anyone can easily hide in those and remain un-noticed, ideal conditions for crooks. I was walking the road with fear and checking both the sides every now and then, with a faint hope of getting lift. I saw a Jeep coming from long distance. I signaled hand for lift as soon as the Jeep was near to me. But, instead of decreasing the speed, he increased the speed tremendously and sped away. The same thing happened with other Jeep and two motorbikes, which passed me after some time. By this time I had walked for almost an hour, I was tiring fast.
I knew I could not rest on the road; I need to keep on walking. After some time I saw one more motorbike approaching. I signaled for lift without much hope. But this time the motorbike person stopped a little ahead and turned back. I could not see his face, as it was dark and he has wrapped a dark shawl around his neck and face to protect him from cold winds. He asked where I want to go and when I told him the name of my native place; he said he would drop me as he stays in the same village. He signaled me to sit on the backside, which I did without mush hesitation. He kicked the motorbike and started driving slowly. And first time since evening, I relaxed and started to feel the cold wind hitting hard against my face. I started observing the angel who has taken risk to give lift to a stranger.
He was very old man wearing white dhoti and white shirt above. He has wrapped a black colored shawl around his neck only exposing eyes a bit. He started talking with me, asking my whereabouts and my purpose of visit. I told him that I am here to attend my grandfather’s funeral. He immediately recognized me and told me that he knows everyone in my family very well. He said he is very good friend of grandfather and my grandfather had helped him in his bad times. He also knew my name, but he had hardly seen me, as I was not that frequent visitor to my native place. I felt more comfortable talking to him and then I started asking about his name. He told his name is antha-master (antha is name and people from our side calls schoolteacher fondly with ‘master’ which means Sir). He dropped me on the main road and from there my home was at 20 minutes walking distance. I thanked him started walking briskly towards my home. I did not turn back.
I reached home around 9PM; there were quite a few relatives at that time. I spoke to my mother, she was crying. I tried to console her. Then I spoke to my father and he asked me how I reached there? Why I got late? I told him that my bus had broken down so I missed my last bus. Then I also told him about the person who had given me lift. He asked me the name of the person, when I told him the name (antha-master); he started looking with surprise to me. He asked me again whether I am sure about the name. I asked why he is so surprised with name, and then he said that “Antha-master” had died 2 years back. Then it was my time to get surprised. He said that I must have misheard the name. I said “No”, I am sure about the name. How can I forget the name of the person who had helped me?
After hearing this, I tried to go back in memory and check what was wrong. I was sure about the name. I knew that name what I heard was correct. And I do not think any person would like to play prank on me by telling me wrong name, when I am going for my grandfather’s funeral. For the person of his age, I will surely not expect him to do that. And if someone wants to play prank then he will play with person he knows. I was unknown to the motorbike person. Though he knew my name, he had hardly seen me. And when I go back in memory, I do not even remember the person starting his bike after he had left me. I was in hurry and I never turned back to check what he did, but I am sure I did not here any noise of motorbike.
I cannot say surely, that the person I met was ghost. But I am sure, that the name of the person which he told was dead well before two years.
I still remember one line, which he had said, “Your grandfather, my dearest friend had helped me a lot in my difficult times; I am yet to repay that”.
Is this one of the way he chose to repay back my grandfather’s deeds?
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