I stood there- tears in my eyes, trembling from head to foot.
“I don’t know dad, I don’t know why or how, but I am scared…”
“Scared of what? Specters?”
“Well, yes”
“Why?”
“They seem to lurk there, you know.”
He laughed. I was annoyed, and embarrassed, at the same time.
I was born timid. Fear, it seemed, was an innate emotion in me. And there was nothing I didn’t fear- right from bald men to non existent witches. And this fear hampered my very existence.
Ghosts, to me, were omnipresent. Even in broad daylight, I was scared of venturing alone anywhere. The shadows, the dark corners were their retreats. As the darkness fell, I pedaled the cycle faster in the compound- the lady draped in the white saree was smiling wickedly at me revealing her grotesque teeth with her disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes- my heart pounding, and my brow beaded with sweat I sped away.
“What confirms your fear? What makes you think that ghosts do exist?”
“Nothing…. Do they really exist?”
“Even I don’t know. No one knows. No one can guarantee that they do or they don’t. And even if they do, they won’t harm you.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. Look, their world, their universe is different from ours. Why would they want to cause you harm? Why do you think of them as creatures prowling around for prey when you are not even sure of their existence?”
“Very true”, I thought. “Dad”, I asked, carefully choosing my words, “Are you scared of anything?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Of ghosts?”
“Well”, he answered, “Everyone is scared of the unknown. No one is perfectly brave you see. And yes, bravery stems from fear itself. Brave people fear something, but then, they assure themselves that they are not going to be harmed and go ahead to fight. So, you see, everyone is scared of something.”
A wave of calmness surged in my mind. I felt lighter, bolder.
I looked at the passage in the hallway which was dimly lit. Shadows were being cast on the walls.
Dad looked at me apprehensively. I was fighting a battle and losing, it seemed.
“God exits in you, me, and everyone. He created us and he is in you. Say God exists in me, say, “I am God.”
“What?” I said, flabbergasted, as this was the least expected.
“Say, “I am God.” It’ll help.
I took a deep breath. “I am God.” I said to no one.
Instantly, the shadows seemed creepy no more. I walked in the passage surprised that my steps were not hurried.
A voice echoed in my head as I rode my cycle, the breeze blowing across my calm face, “I am God, you cannot harm me, and no one can.” The moon shone brightly overhead.
“I don’t know dad, I don’t know why or how, but I am scared…”
“Scared of what? Specters?”
“Well, yes”
“Why?”
“They seem to lurk there, you know.”
He laughed. I was annoyed, and embarrassed, at the same time.
I was born timid. Fear, it seemed, was an innate emotion in me. And there was nothing I didn’t fear- right from bald men to non existent witches. And this fear hampered my very existence.
Ghosts, to me, were omnipresent. Even in broad daylight, I was scared of venturing alone anywhere. The shadows, the dark corners were their retreats. As the darkness fell, I pedaled the cycle faster in the compound- the lady draped in the white saree was smiling wickedly at me revealing her grotesque teeth with her disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes- my heart pounding, and my brow beaded with sweat I sped away.
“What confirms your fear? What makes you think that ghosts do exist?”
“Nothing…. Do they really exist?”
“Even I don’t know. No one knows. No one can guarantee that they do or they don’t. And even if they do, they won’t harm you.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. Look, their world, their universe is different from ours. Why would they want to cause you harm? Why do you think of them as creatures prowling around for prey when you are not even sure of their existence?”
“Very true”, I thought. “Dad”, I asked, carefully choosing my words, “Are you scared of anything?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Of ghosts?”
“Well”, he answered, “Everyone is scared of the unknown. No one is perfectly brave you see. And yes, bravery stems from fear itself. Brave people fear something, but then, they assure themselves that they are not going to be harmed and go ahead to fight. So, you see, everyone is scared of something.”
A wave of calmness surged in my mind. I felt lighter, bolder.
I looked at the passage in the hallway which was dimly lit. Shadows were being cast on the walls.
Dad looked at me apprehensively. I was fighting a battle and losing, it seemed.
“God exits in you, me, and everyone. He created us and he is in you. Say God exists in me, say, “I am God.”
“What?” I said, flabbergasted, as this was the least expected.
“Say, “I am God.” It’ll help.
I took a deep breath. “I am God.” I said to no one.
Instantly, the shadows seemed creepy no more. I walked in the passage surprised that my steps were not hurried.
A voice echoed in my head as I rode my cycle, the breeze blowing across my calm face, “I am God, you cannot harm me, and no one can.” The moon shone brightly overhead.
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