Ghosts of the Graveyard

The cemetery lay adjacent to the Sport's field. As kids, we were always afraid to run too close to that corner. Tales of it being haunted by evil spirits were enough to keep most of us yards away from any building in that area. Those who were brave enough to venture there would return with the most terrific stories and be greeted like heroines.

A lot had changed since then, though.

Now, ten years later, we found ourselves drawn to the cemetery more than ever. Maybe it was the stillness and quiet. Maybe it was the look of beckoning on the face of the white statue that stood outside the gates of the graveyard. 
Maybe it was time for us to start looking for answers.

Jina laid the piece of paper on the floor. I handed her a pen.
'We're crazy to be doing this', the thought echoed through each of our minds.

'Oh come on! This is a futile exercise', remarked Ash. She was a non-believer.
Nevertheless, Jina grabbed the pen and started writing the alphabet.

It was late in the morning, the Autumn Sun was high in the sky and the others would be missing us in the class room. There was no one around. My eyes scanned the field. Then the cemetery with it's white-marble graves. Then the two empty ones, dug out in anticipation.
Then, I looked at my friends. Excitement and fear.
I took out a coin and handed it to Jina. The time had come.


Chitti was the first one to place her finger on the coin, surprising us with her calm and enthusiasm.
With one finger each on the coin, we closed our eyes and held hands.


'Any holy spirit passing by, please come to us', we chanted in unison.

'Any holy spirit passing by, please come to us'.

'Any holy spirit passing by, please come to us'.

'Are you there?', Chitti ventured to ask.

Just then, we heard a noise!
It was coming from behind us. None of us dared to turn.

'Are you there?', Jina asked, voice trembling.


There was a loud sound of crumbling leaves and the cemetery gate creaked.
We let out a collective gasp.

'Don't remove your finger from the coin! The spirit might enter our bodies', I whispered.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an old lady. Withered would be a better word. She was walking towards us. I could here leaves crumble under her feet.



'ITS THE CLEANING LADY FOR GOD'S SAKE!', Ash shouted, getting up.

The three of us just stared at each other, dumbfounded.

How stupid could one be!

The rest of the fine morning was spent in mimicking the expression of horror on each other's faces and laughing our guts out.




13 comments:

  1. Lol!! That was brilliantly narrated!!

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  2. i mustered all the courage to read this. i was scared as hell!!

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  3. I must say that you created a perfect cemetary scene in my mind and had a funny twist in the end. Very well written. Have you thought of writing some book? I am sure you will do great.

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  4. Thank you! Some places just get imprinted in your memory so well they come out on paper smooth as butter.
    No, I've never thought of writing as much as a story. :P
    But thank you for showing faith :)

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  5. Even if someone calls me Super Heroine I will never go close to such places. It was a brilliant narration. Is it true that spirits enter your body, if you move finger from coin? :P

    You write very well Medha, capitalize on your talent. :)

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  6. Hah! Young blood makes you do a lot of crazy stuff. Oh, and, yes, if you move your finger from the coin, the spirit does enter your body, at least, that's what our seniors told us. Also, you have to be careful about 'sending the spirit back' otherwise, bad things will happen to you :P

    Thank you so much Saru. Praise from a blogger like you just makes my day. :)

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  7. Now, this is something that excites me, I shall try it...:)

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  8. Be careful :P And do write about it!

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  9. LOL... nice one..but I did think they'd end up meeting a human rather than a forlorn spirit..not saying am not a believer..it's like "I don't believe in ghosts but am afraid of them!"

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  10. Haha Rinaya! Everybody is afraid of ghosts, believer or non-believer.But there area times we need the thrill :D

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  11. Nice story - regards Bruno Bernard

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