As the girl walked towards the tree on a no moon day, there was suddenly an eerie silence, and the screech of an owl from a distance disturbed the silence. But she continued walking, and then suddenly, there was a figure right in front of her... it was a little girl, and her face was distorted and she walked towards her....
It was at this point of the movie that I heard a knock on my door and boy, wasn't I scared to the core? As I walked to the door taking teeny-weeny steps and checked, I found to my immense relief that it was my neighbor who had dropped in to ask for a cup of milk! But nevertheless, this incident made me think about the hate-hate relationship I share with ghosts.
I know that there exists this class of 'abnormal'(what else?) people who love to watch horror movies, and later (can you believe it) do not flip or flinch about it... and then the other class who actually watch these hiding behind their chairs. Cowards, really! Why take the pains of watching it and scaring oneself to death? I have never understood the psychology behind that behavior. And then comes the third section, the one I am proud to belong to, who changes the channel as soon as they see its a horror flick. But wouldn't mind watching ever favs (read, Manichithrathazhu) or a few minutes of some gross horror movie(though we later regret it and walk around as if ghosts are all jobless and in search for you!).
But then horror doesn't really start or end with movies. I remember that as a child, I had listened to numerous stories of ghosts haunting paddy fields at night. It might have been a clever parent who floated those stories around as we kids, never strayed alone after dark listening to those (which now seem like) crappy stories. But ghosts had made a permanent scar on me right then. I have never been scared of the lack of light, but the notion that there are unworldly creatures lurking in the dark waiting to pounce on you, has always always always scared me. And with me grew the fear which gradually gave way to hatred. I hate ghosts (well, who would want to love them, eh? )
This reminds of an incident from my college life. Onam was around the corner and to make sure that I get good seats in a bus bound home, I woke up before dawn and walked down to the bathroom area. It was while I was brushing that I heard a sound behind me. I strained myself and tried to listen. A panic-struck me could not bear to turn back and see what's happening and hence opted to look in the mirror right in front of me. The mirror gave a good view of the corridor and I couldn't spot anyone/anything. And then suddenly, from nowhere, I saw a figure on it, with a long robe draped around it and hair all around where the face should have been. There was no mistaking that it was staring at me, I could feel it, I could sense it. But I couldn't make a noise, it was as if I could no longer talk or make a noise. As it walked towards me, I turned around with all the energy I had and managed to throw everything I could find then at it and ran. At the door I met my roommate, and she saw me on the verge of tears, but I wouldn't explain anything, she said later, I just ran! As she put her head in, and checked to see what happened, she was blasted, in full-fledged Tamil, by some bewildered girl in all so drenched night clothes! I had thrown mugs of cold water onto some girl who decided to use the bathroom when she woke up in the middle of her sleep. My best friend did her best to explain to the girl that I was scared and mistook her for a ghost. But that kind of alleviated her feelings (I wonder why ;). And once I had calmed down enough and they managed to pull me out from under the blanket, it was not just the wet girl that I had to face but also my best friend who by then was agitated by all the Tamil bad words showered upon her so early in the morning!!!
And now, my husband has resorted to hiding in the house and scaring me every now and then so that I get around this fear of mine. But a couple of days back, when he did this at a time I least expected, I threw the spoon at him. I had a knife with me on the other hand but thankfully, I did not throw it! And now, he has withdrawn from his attempts too. Oh, dear life!
Scary houses, Halloween stories, and all horror movies freak me out. I make out strange patterns lurking behind the shower liners. And the strange coincidences drive me crazy. Anytime, I talk about ghosts, I feel its eyes on me. And oh God, there is a knock on the door, and am not expecting anyone at this time of the day!
It was at this point of the movie that I heard a knock on my door and boy, wasn't I scared to the core? As I walked to the door taking teeny-weeny steps and checked, I found to my immense relief that it was my neighbor who had dropped in to ask for a cup of milk! But nevertheless, this incident made me think about the hate-hate relationship I share with ghosts.
I know that there exists this class of 'abnormal'(what else?) people who love to watch horror movies, and later (can you believe it) do not flip or flinch about it... and then the other class who actually watch these hiding behind their chairs. Cowards, really! Why take the pains of watching it and scaring oneself to death? I have never understood the psychology behind that behavior. And then comes the third section, the one I am proud to belong to, who changes the channel as soon as they see its a horror flick. But wouldn't mind watching ever favs (read, Manichithrathazhu) or a few minutes of some gross horror movie(though we later regret it and walk around as if ghosts are all jobless and in search for you!).
But then horror doesn't really start or end with movies. I remember that as a child, I had listened to numerous stories of ghosts haunting paddy fields at night. It might have been a clever parent who floated those stories around as we kids, never strayed alone after dark listening to those (which now seem like) crappy stories. But ghosts had made a permanent scar on me right then. I have never been scared of the lack of light, but the notion that there are unworldly creatures lurking in the dark waiting to pounce on you, has always always always scared me. And with me grew the fear which gradually gave way to hatred. I hate ghosts (well, who would want to love them, eh? )
This reminds of an incident from my college life. Onam was around the corner and to make sure that I get good seats in a bus bound home, I woke up before dawn and walked down to the bathroom area. It was while I was brushing that I heard a sound behind me. I strained myself and tried to listen. A panic-struck me could not bear to turn back and see what's happening and hence opted to look in the mirror right in front of me. The mirror gave a good view of the corridor and I couldn't spot anyone/anything. And then suddenly, from nowhere, I saw a figure on it, with a long robe draped around it and hair all around where the face should have been. There was no mistaking that it was staring at me, I could feel it, I could sense it. But I couldn't make a noise, it was as if I could no longer talk or make a noise. As it walked towards me, I turned around with all the energy I had and managed to throw everything I could find then at it and ran. At the door I met my roommate, and she saw me on the verge of tears, but I wouldn't explain anything, she said later, I just ran! As she put her head in, and checked to see what happened, she was blasted, in full-fledged Tamil, by some bewildered girl in all so drenched night clothes! I had thrown mugs of cold water onto some girl who decided to use the bathroom when she woke up in the middle of her sleep. My best friend did her best to explain to the girl that I was scared and mistook her for a ghost. But that kind of alleviated her feelings (I wonder why ;). And once I had calmed down enough and they managed to pull me out from under the blanket, it was not just the wet girl that I had to face but also my best friend who by then was agitated by all the Tamil bad words showered upon her so early in the morning!!!
And now, my husband has resorted to hiding in the house and scaring me every now and then so that I get around this fear of mine. But a couple of days back, when he did this at a time I least expected, I threw the spoon at him. I had a knife with me on the other hand but thankfully, I did not throw it! And now, he has withdrawn from his attempts too. Oh, dear life!
Scary houses, Halloween stories, and all horror movies freak me out. I make out strange patterns lurking behind the shower liners. And the strange coincidences drive me crazy. Anytime, I talk about ghosts, I feel its eyes on me. And oh God, there is a knock on the door, and am not expecting anyone at this time of the day!
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