Tales from the Neverbeens

I wanted to cross this part of the road as fast as I could. There was no settlement, no vehicle in sight. I've been driving for almost half an hour now, and I haven't seen any person or vehicle on this dark road surrounded by tall trees. No wonder they call it 'the abandoned road'. No wonder they believe this stretch of road to be haunted! I've always been afraid of ghosts, or for that matter, any evil supernatural force they talk about. Even short conversations on them give me the chills, although I knew they were just figments of imagination. Now that I was driving all alone on this secluded path, in the darkest of nights, the discomfort was growing as I felt lonelier. And I drove faster. Distracted by fear and wild-running imagination, I was paying little attention to the road. And that was why I didn't see the huge piece of log lying on the road, almost halfway across. It was too late when I saw it, and while dodging it, I drove off the road, straight into a...

I have become apprehensive of falling asleep, for this single, most horrific nightmare, more so because it recurs every night! It might seem petty now when you hear it, but at the dead of the night, when you are all alone and darkness has engulfed not just your room, but the entire world as far as you can see, and you are alone - every person who cares about you, or every person you know is fast asleep - at that time, even the ticking of the clock is enough to upset your nerves. My nerves are already quite weak and jumpy, as they are. Now, this dream, that has stolen the appeal of sleep from me, is set in the dark damp bottom of what seemed to be a cave or well. I am not bound or tied up, but I'm unable to move. I hear indistinct whispers, as if some people are quarelling in a language not known to me. Just as a feeling suffocation starts to swell up because of the blinding darkness, the whispers grow closer. Very soon, a few men, with fire lamps in their hands, dark, scantily dres...

It's been a long time since we had this purple stain on the kitchen floor. "It's print on the tile," some say, though it is not present on any other similar tile, while others say it's some kind of a dye. Whatever it is, what is concerning us more is that the stain seems to be growing. Ever so slowly. My wife and I, we've tried everything we could to get rid of it, or at least learn about it, but to no avail. We even consulted painters and masons, but they couldn't give a reasonable explanation. As of now, we've decided to leave it alone. Ignoring it seems to have slowed it down. By now it's gotten to about the size of a coaster, and the colour has changed from purple to deep brown. But as I said, we're ignoring it. Just the last evening a friend of mine came for dinner, and the topic of the stain somehow came up. He seemed to have an absurdly different opinion about it. Very reasonably, and deductively, he stated that since it is g...

  I had just woken up from a disturbed sleep. I dreamt of a ghost sitting on my shoulder, just like in the movie 'Shutter', if I remember the name correctly. It is not that I am haunted by fear of ghosts or anything. I am utmost skeptical when it comes to the supernatural. But waking up from sleep with the visions of a ghost sticking to your shoulder in the silent middle of the night is an entirely different affair. Out of habit, I headed for the bathroom. As I sat on the toilet seat I started losing memory of the ghastly dream. Most dreams are forgotten within ten minutes of waking up, they say. But my mind had taken up a different job altogether. It had started associating the visions with my present surrounding. Now let me explain the size of my attached bathroom. It's barely larger than a normal sized wardrobe. The claustrophobia added to the uneasiness. I wondered if 'anything' was sticking to my shoulder in that small space. I could imagine feeling...

I wonder when she got afflicted by it, the girl who lives in the apartment just below mine. It's not like any illness or disease, atleast not one that is known. I was an unfortunate soul to learn about it altogether. Just because I lived upstairs! About a week back, when I opened my wardrobe, a spider walked out. "I wonder how it got there," I told her when I met her on the stairs. She returned a feeble smile. The next day I saw a couple of spiders on the window sill, moving out. Throughout that day however at least twenty spiders creeped out after that. I was wondering what was going on (insects and animals often sensed the imminence of natural disasters, I had heard), when I learnt that the girl had moved in recently into the apartment below mine. I noticed it when I had gone to introduce myself to her. She attracted spiders! A hundred spiders seemed to be creeping around her apartment, walking upto her feet every now and then. I was too horrified to even ask her wha...

This village has something weird about it. All the people in it stay indoors in the evening, no matter what. It made me very curious. I had reached in the dusk just to find that even my host was hesitant to open his door to me. I asked him, but he just deferred the topic saying that the time was too dangerous to talk about it. By the time I had my sumptuous meal, I was dead tired. It was a long journey I had made. But as soon as I was getting ready to sleep, I was reminded of the behaviour of the village in the evening, and curiosity got the better of me. I walked out into the living room to meet my friend. I found him seated beside the fireplace, stoking the fire. "Welcome, my friend, I was just beginning to think when you're going to ask me again," he said, clearly knowing why I had come. "It is the story of just a few months back. The highway as you know connects two large cities. A lot of vehicles ply over it throughout the day. One day, some men fishing in th...

Neil and I had met after a long time. Almost eight years. But he looked all the same, except for the stubble that he had grown. We happened to meet on a warm Sunday morning on the path along the forest during my morning-walk. And like old times (whenever we did something together, it was never something normal) we decide to walk into the forest instead of along it. About half an hour later we were deep inside the forest and had no idea where we were. And nor did we care. We were busy talking and catching up with each other's life. But a sudden rustle nearby brought us back to the present. It was unlikely that it was somebody. Nobody came into these woods. It was 'something'! We waited motionlessly to listen. There it was again. Definitely footsteps, but of what? Silently we moved in the direction of the sound, gathering all our courage. We walked into a clearing. The next time we heard the sound, it was closer. I picked up a pebble and threw it in the direction of the s...

I am quite fond of a baby's sound. But not always, which I learnt just the other day. Just yesterday when I reached home and unlocked my door, I heard a baby's laughter. It took me some time to realize that it was coming from my apartment itself - an apartment that had been locked for the last nine hours. I walked inside, my mind making all the rational reasonings upon the sound and all the other senses trying to find where the sound was coming from. A fair approximation led me to believe that it was coming from the wardrobe. Was it a prank? Or did I leave my laptop on inside the dresser? I opened the door slowly, only to find that there was nothing but clothes and accessories that in no way could make such a sound. I was tired, and it was already 10 o'clock. I had no will to rush out, though I was quite disturbed by the sound. On the third floor, there was no way for some cat or other animal to cry from the outside. But deciding to be brave (and lazy) I waited till the...

I have rented a new room, but strangely it has old windows. I had noticed it the day I moved in, but it was only the last night that I realized the reason. Sinister, as it was, I could not but wonder how it had come to be. I am skeptical by nature. Anything supernatural is out of my belief bubble. But sometimes the trust in our senses compel us to doubt our beliefs. Last night as I lay in my bed reading, I heard a faint scratch on the window pane. I disregarded it supposing that it was some insect or a bat. A few minutes later I heard it again. Distinct this time. I went to the window. I opened it and glanced outside. Nothing. I returned to bed. Moments later a voice shook me. "Feet..." it said. Did I mention it's the third floor, and there is no balcony outside the window? There was no way anybody could be outside the window that high. It must have been the sound of the wind, I thought. " I lost my feet.." the croaky female voice came again, and I had no do...

It was dawn or dusk, I have no idea. I had woken up with a start and found that it was dark. I could not even see the clock. It was so hot, I was sweating. And itching all over. I had allergies. All kinds of them! When it was windy I would get it. When it was dry, I would get it. When I was cold, I would get it, and even when I was hot, I would get it! But this time it was intense. I was sweating and itchy all over! I realized I should check under my sheets for a possible caterpillar. It was too intense to be an ordinary allergy attack. I switched on the lights and checked. No caterpillar, no centipedes, or any insects for that matter. But it was itching still. I checked again. Nothing. And I checked again. This time I saw it. The small hair that had grown out of my skin. On my thigh. It was not the hair every boy grows. It was an straight, tough, and resembling that of a caterpillar! And it was when I checked properly I found that it was all over. I had the hair all over me.. the h...

I have always avoided this window. I always sleep on the other side of the room. The reason is rather based on some instincts that are much inclined to the supernatural and may seem trivial and in fact silly to anyone who has not been near it. It has always remained closed, and is so dirty that the other side that has the view of the hillside, is barely visible. But I have grown an acceptance of the presence of it, and it bothers me much less now so long as I keep my distance. Until now. I had been seeing something moving beyond the window that is distracting me every now and then. Every night, when I switch off the light inside, the outside becomes dark enough to see. And through that window I can see the head of a man moving, peeping in, sometimes disappearing only to reappear in a few minutes. I don't know the face. And its appearance should not have been disturbing to me. Had it not been the fourth floor, and no balcony or any kind of place where a man could stand so that his...

I had just arrived from the movie theatre. It's past midnight, but as my friend would say, midnight is the best time to watch a horror movie. It was a horror movie of sorts, but the scenes of blood and violence grossed me out instead. I had my eyes shut for most of the time. Talking about my friend, I just reached home to find him ping me on my messenger. He said he misses me. Well, I miss him too. It's nice how he drops in a random message out of nowhere every now and then. Shows me that he means it. We had no more conversation. It was time I slept. I've to go to work early tomorrow. All of a sudden, I woke up with a start. Someone was peeping at me from the window. But nobody could climb onto the balcony from the outside. It is the 4th floor! I approached the window, hiding my growing fear. It looked like neo, my friend I had talked to. But there was something wrong about him. He didn't look, well, human! Its feet were wide and hairy. It was clutching onto the rai...

3 am once again. This same voice has been nagging me for the last couple of weeks. That is why I have refrained from writing on this blog all this time. I was a bit creeped out. But it's happening again tonight, and I guess it is time I speak about it. It's a voice. It comes every night a short while after 3 am. And before it does, it wipes out all other sounds. The clock doesn't strike 3. It doesn't event tick. The mischievous mouse underneath the bed stops its frantic searches. The insects too seem to be silenced. And then I hear the voice, amidst the reverbrating silence. I always wake up a few minutes before the time. Sometimes, like today, I lie sleepless with a myriad thoughts. But the voice takes me by surprise everytime, even when I know that it is going to come. It's a little girl's voice. "Is anyone here?" it says, "I've lost my body somewhere. Can you help me find it?" I wonder if it's the mute girl who always looks lo...

I tried to shoo the fly off. But it was persistent. In fact for the last few hours these flies have been growing in multiples around the town. These bees, they are everywhere. And they look angry! It is unnatural, the way the bees are behaving. Such big numbers, and all over the place. They don't seem too eager to bite, but they are nagging everyone around. Even the sky's filled with them all the time making it seem cloudy and dark. Things are getting out of hand. I decided to take a look at where they were coming from. Following the growing density of the buzzing, I walked upto an old grey wooden house - the house of the bee keeper. People had already gathered there, but there were too many bees to enter the house. But there was this foul smell that hit me. "It's the bee keeper, he's dead," a man said from behind me, "He must have been dead for days." "But I had seen him a couple of days ago. He was walking and healthy then..." another...

It must be an asthma attack, I guessed. The air felt heavy, and it was growing more difficult to breathe. My lungs were going to burst if the doctor did not arrive on time, but there was no sign of him. Even swallowing was difficult now. My vision was getting blurry and the room was getting darker. Mother arrived with a man with a suitcase. The doctor, finally, I thought! The man came nearer, observed my eyes and put his hand on my chest. It felt as if the lungs were reaching out to him for help; they were pushing and crawling. Then the man reached into his coat and took out a cross. He held the cross in front of me. I felt burning inside me, and then I passed out. The next time I opened my eyes, I found the man looking at me. Now that I could see him properly, he was no doctor. He was a priest. Mother was all in tears on the other side of the bed. "What's going on?" I asked. "You're sick son, very sick," said the man. "What...

A lonely tree stood in the middle of the field, a blanket of mist behind it. It stood twisted, silhouetted against the blanket of cloud behind. This tree has a history. It never broke. Kamini had always looked up at the tree, wondering how the tree had got twisted. As if an invisible hand turned it several times by its top and held it there eternally. Her life had got twisted in the same way, but she hoped life wasn't as adamant as the tree. She had both feared and hated the tree, until she had her first child. Little Sohail seemed to like to play around the tree quite a lot. There was nothing else to play with around anyways. The little boy grew up and had began his education, but he was always attached to the tree. The father had made a swing for him on the tree, and Sohail would spend most of his time swinging. But one day the branch that had bent down by the weight of the boy suddenly pulled up, and the boy, caught among the ropes, was pulled up too. The rope coiled around h...

I was talking with a very good friend at that time.  I was alone in my room, and she was on the other end of the line. It was past midnight and yet we weren't sleepy. We never were when we were talking with each other. She was the best company. It was then that I realized that the clock was still. It wasn't ticking. "My clock has stopped," I said to her with the hint of a laugh. "It never was running," she said, "Did you forget..." I was perplexed. This clock had been running quite fine from the day she had gifted it to me. Yes, it was gifted to me by her, just like every other time piece I have.  She is very particular about time and time pieces. And the ones that she chose were quite well built. It was as if she was connected to them. As if the sharp tickings were her heartbeat. I remember once when I had lost a watch, and she drove me mad asking me where I had dropped it. It seemed as if she couldn't breathe. And now she tells me that the...

That shadow has been following me since the evening. It's one of those shadows I've always seen in the corners. Of tree trunks and leaves, of walls, of poles and of men. But then it was different too. As if it was moving among the still shadows, as if it rustled among the silent shadows. As I walked along the street the shadow seemed to be following, ever getting a fraction of an inch closer. As if it was bound to reach me very soon but not yet. I gathered the most courage I could and led myself forward. Blind to the time past and ahead. Just getting as close to habitation as I could. The shadow somehow seemed to have a great resemblance with loneliness. But this dark thing was alive, and I knew it. And the street seemed to never end. Other shadows of tree leaves seemed to flutter: of climbers seemed to reach out to my ankles to bind my feet. Ever so close. Yet not reaching me yet. It took me the most part of an hour to reach the place where I could see a house.  It was a lo...

Meditation is one of the first things I do in the morning. Everyday. But last night I was particularly disturbed. I felt as if some strange thoughts had taken upon themselves to not let me sleep peacefully. And I decided to meditate late past midnight. I sat down on the bed, crossed my legs, put my hands on the knees and closed my eyes. I began my journey inwards. Stars and galaxies flashed before my eyes. Those were the thoughts I was having in my mind at that time. I tried to find out the ones that were disturbing me. But then there was something else that made me uneasy. I could feel a presence around me that I had never felt before. I opened my eyes, and saw a pair of black eyes staring at me. A broad face of a lady with an expression that was so blank that it made me feel it was born just to stare at me. And the face did not have any body too. It was just suspended on nothingness. In fact, I realized I wasn't in my room anymore. I was in a black sky covered with stars and g...

I board this train daily. It passes though paddy fields, lakes and forests. Quite a scenic route, but a very isolated one. Only a few sporadic stations along the way, and only a few of them appear to be manned. On one of these stations, everyday, I see a man, a woman and a child of ten or so board the train. Over the days, they have caught my attention, for more reasons than one. For one, the man and the child are always the same, but the lady is always different. Never have I seen the same lady board on two consecutive days, or for that matter, on any two days ever. And the lady always looks depressed. I can almost imagine a stream of tears along her cheek from the distance. It was only today that I got a chance to talk to one of them. For the first time they were seated in my berth. We were seated in complete silence for a while. I stole a couple of furtive glances at them, but did not put any query. Yet. At once, the little boy demanded to be taken to the washroom. The man sudden...