The ghosts of my house are a depressed lot and I am not talking about “Not interested in food” depressed or “I am not getting enough sleep” depressed. They are, in plain terms, downright suicidal. How do I know that? OK, that’s a pretty interesting story which happened maybe a day or two before. It was a Monday or a Tuesday, I don’t remember which. I got up a bit late, maybe around 11 and somehow decided it was too late for office and definitely a good weather to work from home. How is the weather related to working from home? That’s a different and a pretty long story. Maybe will tell some other time. Coming back to this tale, I went online, checked some mails, send some disparaging mails to my teammates, raised a few vague concerns and obscure questions that I sent to everyone else and with this I had yelled my presence and importance in the office environ. Having taken care of office thus, I Switched on the TV in the living room played some loud music in the bedroom and then went to make some tea.
Now, making tea in my house is a huge task in itself. The kitchen is small enough to ensure that 2 people standing in a side to side position won’t fit but just big enough to fit two people standing back to back. To paint a better picture, imagine two chefs with their butts touching facing the opposite sides and working like crazy on some vegetables and you will gauze the size of the room. Forget the vegetables, for a more delicious picture imagine some lambs or chicken instead. In addition to the space, my kitchen has another issue, absence of wall units to hold all my crockery. So what I, and by I, I mean my maid does is, she stacks all the utensils in piles in the bottom of a “so called” cupboard and to retrieve one I without doubt create a din with clinks and clangs resounding in that tiny kitchen.
This morning was no different. Trying to pull the saucepan from underneath the pressure cooker that was hanging in balance on top of a tumbler, I somehow dislodged some million other plates and then chaos commenced. Suddenly, from behind me I heard this crackle and a growl...
Ghost (In an odd Robin Williams sort of way): “Are you fucking kidding me?” What are you fucking doing at home, this time of the day?
AS: (A little scared, a little puzzled and lot more angry): Who the hell are you and how on the earth did u enter this house?
Ghost: (Puzzled expression): Like always, through the window. And what do you mean by who I am. First Name Krishna, Second name Raju, People call me KrishnaRaju. Don’t you even acknowledge your roommate from the 3rd dimension?
AS: Roommate? I don’t remember subletting any part of this house. Is it that evil conniving Malik who let you in.
Ghost: No, No… Not your owner. This house was allotted to me by the Ministry of Ghostly affairs. They had told me, this was one of the best ghostly residences they had and I was to be given this for the excellent ghostly services that I had provided them with. They said, just imagine, A bamboo tree, a mango tree in front of that bamboo tree and then other bamboo trees surrounding to make a forest, and I did imagine. A treetop house in the forest was always the dream. How I was I to know that you will come by and make my life hell .I would have preferred sharing space with Jack the ripper rather than a weirdo like you.
AS: Whom are you calling weirdo? You dumb psycho. I don’t care for what ghastly services you were presented this house, but it’s mine. I don’t need to perform kinky services, you weirdo. I pay CASH. I am the present and the future of this house and you can very well go to hell.
(I had never loved the house and I was surprised with the fervor with which I was able to fight with the ghost. The Ghost would have been impressed with my love for the house)
Ghost: Why the hell are you getting worked up? I am not denying it. In the deal that I signed, you are the first owner and I am the second owner. In the beginning I was trying to take care that you were not disturbed and bothered. I definitely didn’t want to break the section 21 of the Ghostly Apparition Act. I didn’t want to scare you and this was before I realized you couldn’t be scared, You were scarier.
AS (Blushing under the compliments levied and mellowing down a bit): OK, OK. But what do we do of our situation. I am not in favor of living in with some old, pale, weird ghost.
Ghost: We ghosts believe in peaceful existence, and when I can tolerate you and your endless guests including that baldy in specs, Why can’t you.
AS: My friends and weird?
Ghost: Don’t let me even start. First, you and your friends come in all states of inebriatedness, if there is such a word. There was this guy whom you referred as rhino? elephant? Or something?
AS: Hippo?
Ghost: Oh, Yes, Hippo. I always knew it was a very big animal. I still remember; I was taking a dump and that guy walks in and pukes right through me. It was night 3 AM, I was getting ready to meet my friends and there he goes Baaaa…. Baaaa…. Whaaa and god only knows all the sounds he made. Still I kept my quite and silently brushed my teeth. While rinsing my mouth I suddenly looked up, and God, The face in the mirror. I still have my ghostly hairs stand up when I visualize those nostrils and the stare. God, Those eyes, those ghostly red eyes.
AS: (Chuckling) Ha Ha… Ya, Hippo can definitely be scary. But what about Gramps, I thought he was pretty nice. He used to sleep early and get up early, like you I assume.
Ghost: Gramps? The bong with specs right? The one who is balding faster than you can say Robi babu. He was no doubt funny, and man, was he scared. When he first came I used to transform myself into different dogs every time and give him chase. You should have seen him run that day. He entered that pink house…
AS: Pink house?
Ghost: The one where that plump girl in the tiny shorts was staying.
AS: (With a wistful voice) Ohh… Ya.
Ghost: So he entered that pink house and stayed there for more than 15 minutes whispering shooo… Shooo … with a face smacked with such fear that even a 2 month old wouldn’t have been scared. I had never laughed so much in my life. But, God, he could be irritating. He used to get up at 5Am in the morning and trim his nose hairs. Then he would comb his non-existent hairs with such care that my girlfriend would be ashamed.
AS (With a mock surprise): You have a bald girlfriend?
Ghost: (Angry but ignoring my jibes and continuing in the same breath): And God, those calls. Starting at 6Am till he left and re-commencing at 8Pm when he came back, till he slept, the endless chatters were un-nerving. I actually went to the psychiatrist when he left, It seemed like Sound itself had walked away from life. It was a void...
AS: Why complain about my friends, You can invite your friends. I have never said no.
Ghost: Don’t even let me start on that one. Invite? Friends to my house? I did once, They came and we were partying outside, when you suddenly felt like singing aloud in the balcony. Some recitation of some god forsaken poetry and my friends ran, ran like no tomorrow. They still hold me responsible for that incident. Some, “Kisi ko de ke dil koi” or something.
AS: Ghalib? That was by Ghalib. Fucker, don’t you realize, Ghalib is god of poetry.
Ghost: I know. It was ghalib whom I had invited to party with Khusro, Meer and some others. Ghalib committed suicide that day. Meer is still in a state of shock. Khusro though composed some riddles out of this but ignores me to this day.
AS: Ghalib died? Again? Because of Me?
Ghost: Ya, Why are you surprised? Ghalib always used to say listening to bad poetry was like whiplashes, imagine what he felt about tuneless singers.
AS: Can dead people die again?
Ghost: It happens here a lot. The world is like composed of different layers, you die, you go to a separate layer, the physical world remains the same but the layers keep on moving and compounding. Ghalib, thanks to you, is a ghost in exponent 2.
AS: In simple words, Ghost squared?
Ghost: Ya something similar.
AS: You complain a lot, Mr. Ghost. Were you always like this? Do you know something called, let’s see, “Adjusting”.
Ghost: Adjusting? Don’t make me laugh. I have changed my life trying to adjust to you but how do I adjust to someone who changes his schedule with the weather. Sorry, Bad comparison. WEATHER IS NOT AS CHANGEABLE AS YOU ARE.
AS: (Smiling sheepishly)
Ghost: AM I KIDDING? AM I TELLING A JOKE HERE? As a ghost I am supposed to roam the nights, But no, you meander through the night, roam through the rooms, doing all you please. Switch on the lights, and when my eyes are getting used to them, switch it off. Random, without thought. Then you switch on the TV and randomly switch channels, when I start to like some channel, BANG, Channel changed.
AS: (Grunts, says nothing)
Ghost: Not only that, you sing in a loud, shrill, unmusical way that even the donkeys of the world find it difficult to appreciate. I am not kidding here, I tried to exchange my apartment with Francis, St Assisi’s donkey and even he said he couldn’t bear your songs. And God, do you snigger. Please tell me what was that book you were reading on Sunday?
AS: (Slowly, whispering): Life and Times of Thunderbolt Kid?
Ghost: Yes, I was with my girlfriend, Doing, you know what. And in the middle of it, I hear this snigger. Ha Ha Hehehe. Man, give me a break.
AS: Hmmmm
Ghost: I took a deep breath and continued doing you know who.
AS: (Eyes wide open, With nervous Frenzy) Voldemort?
Ghost: Idiot, My girlfriend.
AS: Sorry. Forgot. But “You know who” is who must not be named.
Ghost: (Staring angrily)
AS: Sorry. Pray, continue.
Ghost: While I was at it, You again sniggered. My girlfriend was sure you were laughing at us, or at the position we were trying or at her “not very small, but she thinks small” tits or maybe at my ghastly small ghostly dick. But then your chuckle did It man, She peeped from behind that curtains and saw you reading and chuckling aloud. That was it for my sex life. She is now going around with that Chinnappa from the forest. She says the forest makes less noise than you and your house.
AS: You could have got her in the day time; I go to office during that time.
Ghost: I tried that for some days, but do you know how the other ghosts tease me? They call me Call center, Call center. Do I look like a call center employee? I was such a fierce guy in the ghostly affairs department, and now look at me. I have insomnia because you don’t sleep and don’t let me sleep. I can’t eat because you eat outside and all the food items have passed the expiration. I can’t eat anything at the house because of the fear of poisoning myself. I am depressed. I even tried committing suicide once by trying to drown in that overhead tank of yours but then the motor had conked off and there was no water for the next three days.
AS: (Relieved, muttering) Thank heavens. I should remember to thank the owner for not fixing the motor in time.
(Out Aloud)I am sorry Mr. Ghost. I will take care from next time. Next time you get a girl, I will be quite as a mouse.
Ghost: Sorry, I forgot to add because you are such a slob and dirty little pig that the house is teeming with Mouse, Cockroaches, Squirrels, lizards, snakes...
AS: Snakes? Where, Where?
Ghost: That was a figure of speech. Anyways when are you going to office? I have a girl in here.
AS: Girl? You have been talking to me for the last half hour. Is she still here?
Ghost: Fuck!!!
(Poof!!! The Ghost vanishes)
