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Hilsa and The Ghost

Hilsa and The Ghost

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Hilsa and the Ghost

Explore the eerie and supernatural as you delve into a chilling narrative set against the backdrop of a stormy evening with the hilsa fish. Uncover the mysterious events that unfold as the protagonist encounters a ghost. Brace yourself for an unexpected twist that blurs the lines between the paranormal and reality.

It was raining cats and dogs on that evening. I still clearly remember what happened on that terrible rainy day.

As I start to recount the tale, I am afraid I will experience goosebumps for some time. 

I was at my tuition classes; my friends were also there. So, Sir sat down with his bag of stories. We requested him to tell us a horror story. He agreed and started.

“I was returning home from the market of a nearby village after buying a fresh Hilsa fish. The smell of the fish, my favourite though, had already triggered an unending wave of saliva secretion and I was already getting hungry for the Hilsa.

It was getting late, so I hurried. When I reached my village, it was already 8 o’clock and pitch dark.

My house was on the fag end of a huge soccer ground. So, I was supposed to cross it to reach my home.

A cold wind was sweeping across the field. A strong smell of soaked grass and soil hit my nose. I thought it would rain soon, so I ought to rather hurry.

When I stepped onto the field, a streak of lightning struck across the sky and I realised my mistake. The coil of darkness prevented me from seeing the gathering of clouds. Soon, it started raining heavily. 

The poor Hilsa and its owner got completely soaked. I felt so sorry because I might miss the taste. The field got covered in mud and my shoes turned all muddy.

After a while, there was little respite from the rain; I could still hear the howling of the wind. 

Suddenly, a cold chill ran down my spine; I felt as if someone had rested his or her long and bony hand on my shoulder. 

The hand was frozen cold, smacking like that of a dead body. That uncanny, creepy fear gripped me and I struggled to say something. But I apparently lost all my ability to speak.

I became stiff, swallowed all the words hard, and turned around to see if anyone was there. No trace of anybody! I was relieved, sighed, and laughed at my stupidity.

I resumed my walk. Again I felt the sensation of that hand. Now I was sure I wasn’t alone there. Immediately, someone pushed me hard and I slipped into the mud.

Forthwith, I stood up on my legs and was about to run when my legs simply froze! I noticed to my horror that the Hilsa was violently swaying in the air on its own.

The more I tried to get a grip on it, the more it was slipping away from my grasp. 

I stood staring at the horrible scene, shocked, completely drenched, and bewildered. I could barely make out a faint, blurry shadow in front of me in the air. 

The shadow seemed to approach me and came very close when I fell and lost consciousness. 

After I regained my sense, I discovered I was in my room, lying on the floor with the Hilsa a feet away. 

But lo! Eyes were missing and the fish turned blackish… as if someone had made a heavy use of his extended tongue to sap all its freshness!.”

With this, my Sir paused, looking askance at us. The account appeared quite spicy to me, but I didn’t believe it.

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There must have been some specific scientific reasons, I thought, behind that seemingly paranormal activity until something weird happened to me that very night.

It was 10 p.m. when I was returning home from tuition. On the way, I met Gopal’s mother. I couldn’t see her face clearly in the dark but recognized her voice. Curiously though, as she was speaking to me, the surrounding was strangely filled with a kind of fetid smell of raw fish….where was the smell coming from? I kept wondering. 

She requested me to do a favour; “ Please tell Gopal I’ve reached my place” –was the request. She seemed to be enjoying a wry, creepy smile.

I was hardly bothered and nodded in agreement because Gopal is my neighbour and we maintain quite a good relationship.

However, after reaching home, I completely forgot about it and retired to bed following an early dinner. 

Later at night, my mother woke me up. I could hear the ambulance sirens blaring nearby. She seemed quite tensed. Gopal and his father, I saw from my balcony, were weeping and their house was infested with cops.

Gopal and his dad were out of town for some business yesterday. On their return, they found the body of Gopal’s mother hanging from the ceiling fan. 

The cops claimed she hanged herself around 9 p.m. At that very moment, it struck me ‘Who did I meet on the street then couple of hours ago?’

Was it that she wanted to convey her last message to be delivered to Gopal through me? But why me?

I am yet to receive a comprehensive answer to my query to this day. Shakespeare, I believe, was more than correct when Hamlet, his immortal creation, says “There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio,/Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

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