I didn’t believe in the supernatural as a child. But this was about to change.
It happened when I was preparing for my 10th pre-board exams, I used to study and sleep in a solitary room on the attic of my paternal home.
There in my solitude, I mostly preferred to read novels instead of text books.
So, anyway the month was November and the weather had begun warming up to the idea of quilts, under the slower whirr of fans.
One night I was studying till late and must have fallen asleep at the study table.
It was an unforgettable dream. My attic looked like the dementors’ den in my dream. The night was star less, the otherwise welcoming Neem (Margosa) tree in our backyard reaching up to the attic resembled a looming demon waiting to pounce on me.
But that didn’t make me shriek. The yelp that emanated from my mouth in response to the pale figure of my dad’s late best friend hanging from the neem tree.
It nothing like the sweet uncle who fondly gave me chocolates whenever he came to visit us. He was like the third son of my grandparents, and loved them deeply, so much so, that when my dad was transferred to another city for few years, he came to stay.
His tragic demise due to a sudden cardiac arrest just a few years from this incident had been shocking for all of us.
The figure hanging from the neem tree in this dream had massive black holes for eyes, and skin as pale as parched paper. He threatened me that he will kill my family and ordered me to give him back what rightfully belonged to him.
I woke up with a start. I was sweating profusely and more confused than scared. It is said that you dream of those who you would have talked about or heard about in the near past. But he had not been mentioned in our family for months now. There was no way I could have heard about him.
Bewildered, I slept a dreamless sleep. The next morning I narrated the dream to my mother. She found it strange but tried finding reasonable explanations but failed to find any rationale.
Later that day, she must have discussed this with my granny and it so transpired that the quilt I was using was used by him when he stayed with my granny.
To say that we were scared would be an understatement.
The quilt was burned and my granny had a religious ceremony done to ward off any evil presence.
He never paid me another visit.
It took me sometime go back to being friends with the Neem tree, it was albeit just a mis-en-scene.
Unfortunately, the tree was cut off shortly after that by our neighbors ( and it would have been my first heartbreak).
I still have goosebumps whenever I think about that dream.
I stopped listening to it, and it started fading away, I found my power and my self control
Fingers in symphony 