The ghostly tales
Kingdom in a Lake. That is where we left last time. Human minds invariably get interested in such kooky poppycock. Suess, the American humorist gets it bang right when he says, I like nonsense; it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living. So during this summer vacation -- back in the land of the unexplained -- every morning we would get up to hear the latest lowdown about Abdullah, the ghost in our neighbor’s newly built home. My sis would religiously narrate the Jinn’s slate of activities from the previous day. She would in turn get the dope straight from the horse’s mouth – that is – lady of the haunted house.
Anyone who visited my neighbors' home would ostensibly find his/her shoes/sandals/floaters instantly thrown out of the place. The Jinn – they named him Abdullah -- seemed to harbor some kind of a strong revulsion for the footwear, I was told. In my characteristic style, I tried to rubbish the supernatural claims till my neighbor himself confided in me about the strange paranormal occurrence. He even invited me to witness the spectacle – shoes flying off – which I politely declined. On a personal note, I am a little scared of these phantoms, which tease at will.
A significant part of our idle talk invariably used to center around Abdullah, the boot hater. My pals -- Wasy, Raj and Salus -- were all curious, like me for the latest ghostly update. Stories like the Jinn swinging doors at odd hours or digging up the lawn at midnight or talking in eerie voices continued to come. Frankly I’d get goose bumps. The last I’ve heard -- on phone -- is that Abdullah has started talking in some exotic language and he still continues to chuck shoes out of the beautiful one-storey house of my good neighbor.
Ever heard of a spick and span spook! Happens in Kashmir, only.