“Lag jaa gale….galee…. gale…..”
I had just woken up from the dream where I heard a woman’s voice singing. I had realized mid-way that I was dreaming that I was on a beach. I had to force myself to wake up from it by jumping into the water because the woman’s felt wrong..& eerie..& scary.
But then, how was I still hearing her? Was I still dreaming? Had I not woken up yet? No, it can’t be, this was not a dream. I thought it would be best that I get up from the bed & go get that glass of water. That should help!
I tried to get up, but I couldn’t. I tried again, but I just couldn’t. I tried to lift my arms to push myself off the bed, but I couldn’t do that too. I tried moving my fingers, my feet, anything at all… but my body wasn’t following orders from my brain. I could move nothing, except my eyes. It was as if I was suffering from sleep paralysis. I’d read about it in some article. The article did mention not being able to control your movement as a symptom of sleep paralysis. I didn’t remember much from the article, but most of the things described in it seemed like what was happening to me currently. Except for the voice of the woman that kept coming closer & closer.
I looked around for her. One moment her voice was coming from near the door, the other it was coming from the opposite side, from near the window. It was getting crazy & I was starting to get really scared now. I though I see a floating apparition of a woman in the air but then it vanished. I had never been that much terrified in my life ever. I felt like running away from the room, but my body just won’t move. I even tried to shout & call for help, but my mouth was glued too. I just didn’t know what to do!!!
Her voice seemed much nearer now. Closer to the bed. Maybe she could sense my helplessness or maybe it’s my imagination, but I could hear a kind of maniacal laughter in her singing… No, it was definitely not my imagination. There was an unmistakable glee in her cackle accompanying her singing. She didn’t sound beautiful anymore. Her voice sounded ugly, hateful, malevolent & sickly. I watched in horror as I saw a flicker of some movement near my bed. She seemed to be moving closer to me…
What was that!!! Suddenly, I felt a light pressure on my chest & her voice started coming from right above me. Now her singing was increasing in tempo, developing into a shrill, high-pitched sound. In moments, I started seeing the outline of a person, which though translucent, was slowly & slowly getting clearer. I felt terrified to the bone as the pressure on my chest gradually increased, making me suffocate.
Lagjaagale kefirye haseeraat ho naa ho…
Every moment, it was becoming harder to draw breath. I felt helpless, sad & disoriented. The thought that I might probably die soon, brought nothing but only gloom & despair. Slowly, I could see her long fraying, matted hair flying in all directions above me. Her face was only half-formed but it was worse than my worst nightmare. Black hateful pits where eyes should’ve been stared back at me. There was a big gaping hole where the mouth should’ve been. The rest of her face had not clearly formed yet. I wasn’t too curious to check her out too, you know. I dont know how but I had a feeling that the moment she stopped being translucent would be the moment I would die. And it was happening soon. My end was near.
I closed my eyes in defeat. There was no other way now, I was going to die.
….
…
..
.
Wait…what!!! What’s with these sad & depressing thoughts going on in my head.. If I’m about to die, I’m not going down without a fight! I am an anime fan after all, how can I give up so soon?!?
Immediately, I open my eyes & start thinking for ideas to fight this thing – generally I would think about throwing off the person by force; but that’s already out of the question because of my inability to move.
Think think…yess! Evil spirits like this are always affected by the name of God. I try praying to Krishna (my favorite God) & chanting his name out loud!!!
But again, I can’t chant Krishna’s name nor Hanumanji’s nor any other God’s cause I can’t open my mouth at all. I try praying to them in my mind but it doesn’t have any visible effect on her. By now I’m desperate & angry at Krishna for not coming to my help at such a time…
Wait…what’s that – from the corner of my eye I saw peacock feathers falling down in the mirror by my bedside. I tear my eyes away from the spectre above me to look closely at the mirror, but there’s nothing. I see nothing besides a bedside table, a water bottle, a fallen novel, a reading lamp…. It seems it was just a trick of the light my eyes played on me, unless ….
I look at the novel again. I don’t know why but I kept looking at it’s cover. I mean, I was dying here, and I kept looking at the cover of a novel…it wasn’t even anything new. I had read the novel a dozen times at least…
And then it hit me like a train. I knew what I must do…time was short but I was prepared for this fight now. I looked her squarely in those bottomless & horrible eyes – and thought about my Family. I knew my thoughts were being projected onto her. My brother & father sleeping in rooms adjacent to mine came to the forefront & my happiest memories with them assaulted her with a zeal. She recoiled at the suddenness & ferocity of my attack. The pressure on my chest lightened somewhat & I breathed a sigh of relief. But it was not to be the end of her – she attacked back with an urgency, knowing fully that she could not allow me to recuperate. Her words were now unintelligible, she was in a frenzy, a mad rush to kill me. Something which I wasn’t very much comfortable letting her do.
I wrecked my brain for my happiest memories – the day my mom dressed me up as Krishna when I was a kid, the day when I showed my mom my SSC report card, the day I made my mom proud by helping out at an ashram …I soon realized – I was easily winning. She was recoiling fully at all of these memories – the joy in those memories, even everyday memories like that of last weekend when my brother, my father & I helped out mom cook the Sunday meal followed by watching a movie together – or the one where we all sat & discussed & debated Indian history, each of those small bundles of happiness hit her like a thousand needles – and soon vanquished her hold over me. I heard a loud whooshing sound & the pressure lifted from my chest with a loud rattling of the windows – and I knew she was gone.
I could move again. I’ve never felt such joy just being able to move my hands & feet. I got up. The first thing that came to my mind was going to my parents. But I stopped myself. They were in the upstairs room and I didn’t want to scare them so late. I ran to my brother’s room, lifted him in my arms, he protested weakly in sleep… “bhaiii…su karo cho” (Bro…. what are you doin?), but I just carried him anyway to my bed and went to sleep looking at him.
Ohh, and I remembered another important thing – I picked up the novel from the floor & kept it on the bedside table & thanked my mom, dad, brother, Lord Krishna & JK Rowling.
Why JKR? In case you didn’t guess it already, the novel was Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban.
