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Monthly Archives: November 2011

The Fog Whisperer

Yes the foggy cold winter has arrived and how….
winter is meaner and scarier this time
The fog,the dead cold mornings and nights
and the creepy eerie hush hush that sets the spooky tone..
time to write some more spooky ghost stories or poems
which ever gives me goosebumps first.
what ever quenches this undying thirst
got to tell you this is no ordinary quest
once you start writing they will not let you rest
but you got to know who you are going to write about
stop and step back if you are not sure if you are having doubts
hell is not kind to people who don’t know their poison
so here i am confident and all decked up
I will walk alone on these lonely nights,
pick up the crumbs left in the dark and
cook up some stories which will give you fright
I can’t help but write when ghosts guide my hand
lets start from where and when it all begun…..no guys not Adam and Eve
its about my childhood and that one night which changed every thing
and i became this ghost spotter that i am today
Ghost hunter is different,hunters are those who hunt
I don’t have to, they are among us all the time
and a good spotter can see through them clearly( most of the times
literally)
so lets travel back a bit
on such cold nights or dark foggy days we would snuggle in front of fire
have cuppas full of warmth and love and enjoy tales of the crypt
but what we didn’t know and neither did the story tellers..
was that the more you talk about them more it becomes easy for them
to break the barrier of the living and dead holding the
“they are talking about me” card….
And we the curious brats that we were would exchange
every naughty plan in return of creepy story
one such night some one told us the story of the village of the ghosts

Loooong story short

once in a village there was some kind of fever outbreak
the villagers calls for help were ignored
and all of them died waiting for help but no one came
and since then who ever visited the village out of curiosity and/or stupidity
or may be calling of the reaper,were seriously haunted and chased away
And the brave ones and reporters( brave or otherwise) were eaten up.

The graveyard rule         

As A graveyard rule ghosts never eat people with
weak heart,constipation,loose motion,gas,acidity,lawyers and politicians
what if you are or become what you eat?
A farting burping lying ghost is more gross than scary
Oh the things they would do to chase people with these conditions..
they would stretch their hands endlessly to get fruits from far away
trees,or catch fish from a far away river
and those who survived these antics were given a special treat of
” your neighbours head stuffed with fresh veggies”,
“hod dog made from the intestine of the person you were talking to a second ago” ,
“special wine made from last batch of people who visited the village”
Oh the ghosts had a sense of humour all right to name the people alive in
“coming soon” recipe list.

AFTER THE STORY

 anyways most would fall asleep while listening to the story,
but not me, no sir and that’s why I have always been on every ghosts ‘to eat’ list
As I told you earlier, the more I heard stories
more the ghosts got access to my life
and closer they were to me
if only i knew……
I often wonder what would i have chosen had i known this..
would i have settled for just a fairy tale?
Nope don’t think so…curious cats never change
THAT NIGHT
That night after the story telling was over and every one was fast asleep i
was tossing and turning on my bed  and thinking about how exciting my
life would be if i could meet or see at least one ghost in my life time.. when
i heard a thud and someone yelp for help
I went out to check( one mistake every human dying early on in a ghost
story or a horror movie does)
i saw nothing so i went out a bit further… ooh it was cold alright and
the air was wearing an eerie silence
one look at the fog and i knew tonight was going to be spooky special.
The fog was approaching me fast and i was frantically thinking of doing
something like running back inside my house
but my legs just wouldn’t listen
the fog was a pace or two away from me
when i said i want to know who is going to eat me..
i want to be eaten by the bravest spirit
the fog stopped…phew
slowly shapes started appearing
and then started the fight which could be named the “fighting spirits” or
the “die hard again”
there is something in common between the dead and the living..
The “who has more” or “bigger” leads real fast to bitching and fighting
Anyways while they were fighting for the highly acclaimed award of
“the brave one eats this girl”
i was on some other track
will they feed on my body or soul
will i be called a living dead or a ghoul
or may be i will completely disappear from the face of the earth
with no soul and  body left how will i ever earn a  rebirth
oh my thoughts were killing me and that sir was not a good time or spot to
die
i could have run away as my legs were responding now but i thought this
is my one time and i ain’t no shying away.
they were still in fight mode so i asked them to tell me their stories
and the one with the most interesting story will win this contest
and get to eat the yummy me
and so began the story telling sessions…
we cried and laughed and cursed together
have you ever seen a beautiful morning sky with sun and moon together..
this was that moment
One by one they started disappearing crossing over to the light
They were ghosts tormented, trapped in past
All they wanted was an eager ear and as they poured their grievances
and we talked they crossed the line and disappeared
Since then i am a very sought after ghost spotter
and they call me The Fog Whisperer

 Hey Wait!

But as always there is more
not all ghosts want to cross the line
there are in fact a lot who want to avenge their death
and revenge is their one and only agenda
i really cant help them and boy are they angry with me
the good ones help me but for how long i am not sure
they cross the line to the light and i am all alone
the bad ones have now been here for so long
that they have got their own shadows
and even the thickest fog cant hide a evil shadow
spot them and run for you life
as fast as you can
so the winter, the fog and the silent nights have returned
they will haunt me
they will challenge me to see if i can stand firm on my ground
they will try their best to scare me
some will succeed some wont
and i will be  praying and hoping to get out alive
but i have made a promise to myself
every morning that i am alive i will write about them
will be back soon( hope so)
till then watch your back
and after 10 pm open the door only after the bell rings thrice
And oh contrary to popular belief ghosts are not scared of garlic…..
Take aloe Vera, bitter gourd,bottle gourd,pumpkin,spinach,coriander seeds
and a glass of milk make a pie and keep it on southwest corner of your house to
scare away the ghosts.
No the ghosts are not scared of the dish …they just wont want to deal with someone who may be having this pie..that’s all.

Still Alive

A river
a beautiful mirror
once a free spirited clear sparkle
now a stagnant green and blue
gullible and naive she was
smiling warmth back at every leer
and sheltering
all the odds and evens
abused and left
look at her lust for life
for she still hopes
for some footsteps
 of love and care
to kiss life in her
and resurrect her dreams
 the torn body
still with a soul alive
oh how hard she tried
 to keep her wounds hidden
from the smirking eyes
but sometimes even the pride refuses
to hide the pain any more
and the breeze
she never makes any promises
 she can’t be customised
spreads tranquility and stench
with equal fervor
some old ‘loyal’ followers
still talk about her
often reminiscing
the beauty she was
but then there are the things
as should and could
often overpowering the done
hope the sun shines
before she closes her eyes

The Rumblings in my Stomach

Friends Confide Their Deepest Darkest secrets to me
oh the things I have heard and the things I have seen
Being a secret keeper is no mean feat, its no joke
resisting all those baits, the endless bribes, the pokes
But the secrets keep piling on each day
and so do the things I know but I cant say
What do I do with whom can I share
should I give you a glimpse, will it be fair?
What if I don’t say much, just drop in some hints
like one of them is about someone close to Mrs. Flint
What, you didn’t get it, how lame are you?
fine I will give you another clue
It is about Mr Flint and a certain miss curvy
oh no, not the one who was with him in the derby
Its about Mr Flint and his close associates someone
what, who is that, you mean there are more than one?
But she is not the one I was talking about
this one wears huge glasses and a pout
Oh damn no not her what the hell
there are two more now, this is just swell
Fine I am talking about Mrs.Pring
but I thought what they had was more than just a fling
What a day I always took pride in knowing so much
I should go out more,I seemed to have lost my touch
I hate Mr.Fling for having so many affairs
I thought it was just Mrs.Pring but now It seems he just didn’t care
He was cheating on his wife and everyone who knew about it too
and to keep everyone on toes guessing about your life is just so rude
I am so shaken, will you join me for a cup of tea?
and while you are here let me tell you more about some turbulent seas
I know some dark secrets of Mr.Star and  Mrs.Bright
and Miss Diva getting caught, oh that was some sight!
And do you know how Mr Plagiarist became a trendsetter
phew now that I have told you everything I feel much better
Keeping secrets sure was some fun
but it gave me stomach cramps and now I have none
I have told you everything, hope I can trust you with them
guard them as you would any of your precious gems
I do not like people who let out secrets in every time they talk
so censor what you know before you let your thoughts out for a walk
Keeping secret, my dear friend,is a big responsibility,it is an art
hey that reminds me I saw something naughty on Mrs Due’s shopping cart..

Crystal Clear Dreams

There is a room in my house

a very special room

with a big window

it  lets in fresh air

and filters the junk

not for myopic thoughts

but  the window is kind and some say

they too have seen some sparkles

the  window has a view to die for

a beautiful sunlit sky

cool breeze of  contentment

fresh blossoming thoughts

and each colour of rainbow

spreading messages of love and harmony

the woods and her allies are  such great pals

invite me to every single birth

leaving me humbled every  time

for I realise how small yet important

each entity is

the  greens, the browns

I know them all by name

and the winged soul uncaged

floats in this world

I never ask for more

I never settle for less

I guess all my dreams

They taught me well…

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