Preface

Funsutra of a Ruined MBA degree is a Blog that narrates story of F.R.I.E.N.D.S.H.I.P., Love and Life based in a B - school in a university Campus. It is an attempt to bring Campus life to Blog Pages.As the name of the Blog suggests, it will not be giving you any insights into MBA but a glimpse about life inside University gates in an average B - School (strictly not from the upper crust). I chose to narrate this story from Rahul’s eyes, the main character lead, who is an unambitious drifter and lands up in this B - School for fun, frolic, friendship, love and off course the MBA degree! The only reasons that he chose MBA is that one, it is in fashion (soon can be announced as India’s National Degree) and second, in hope that it will land up in a job, paying good BUCKS... Statutory Warning - This blog will not guide you anything related to MBA, getting good grades or Placements, however it can teach you how to screw up your MBA . Read at your own Risk!

GHOST STORY OF SHIMLA HILLS


 Episode 12 - Why was his mobile switched off ?

Madness was at its heights. Without “any managerial level” planning we began our expedition at 12:55 AM to the mysterious haunted house where no one even dared to go even in sunny afternoons. My often neglected “andar ki aawaaz” knew that this is going to turn out as adventurous, foolish, crazy and wild but ain’t no use in complaining because that’s how it works in Hostels.

Our destination, the haunted house, was in the deep, dark woods on an isolated hill. Although no one knows the reality but everyone had heard various creepy rumors about the property. According to the Baba ji’s research, the house belonged to a retired English army man who lived here about 75 years ago with his wife. The Englishman’s wife poisoned him and his mistress after she caught them during their love making session. After the murder, she hung herself to death. Since then the property has never been inhabited.
 It is also believed that most of the rumors were spread by the Nepali Chowkidar who once took care of this property. According to him the ghost of the Englishman, the mistress and his wife still haunts the place. They are usually harmless, until you cross over the fence into the house.  According to Raju Bhaiya (one of our mess assistant and a follower of Baba ji), some people who tried settling in that house experienced weird incidents. Some say they saw an old woman crying on the staircase. Some had seen the shadow of the Englishman on the floor. A few had heard some banging noises on the wall, like someone was pushing the couches against it. According to the Chowkidar’s tale many times he heard a very sharp sound like a tree was falling on the roof, but there would be nothing when checked.

 We started with a little curiosity mixed with fear and a mind full of unclear questions. The chillness of fear was enhanced by some mist, Cool breeze, clear sky and the full moon. We were on the deserted road and only the lights of the girls hostels scattered on the opposite hill were keeping Vivek, Hemant and my spirits high. For Baba and Nick, it was vodka in their blood doing the trick. If I ignore the eerie thoughts in my mind, the mid-night stroll in the mysterious moon-flecked jungle path was a heavenly experience. Had I been a movie director, I would have used that patch for shooting some real romantic scenes. It was a good half-hour later that we reached the haunted house.

It was a beautiful wooden cottage, a perfect example of traditional British architecture. It also had a lawn (which had been encroached upon by thorny bushes with time). I thought of clicking a shot but I realized that my mobile was out of battery. For a few moments, Ghosts were out of my mind, I was charmed by the beauty of this place. I had also made list of its potential uses, for instance, the place can be a great hide out for a Full moon party, a bachelor party or a romantic encounter. Unfortunately we were here to get up, close and personal with some other-worldly creatures.
The very next moment, Nick crossed the fence with no evident fear and all of us just followed him.


Baba ji had instructed us to communicate only by sign language and not respond to any familiar voice calling our name because spirits can imitate any voice. If you respond in any way, you’ll be their prey.We moved towards the entrance, it was a big old wooden door.  On the wall above the door someone had scribbled “Go away from here”. We ignored the message and entered the house. There were dust and spider webs all around. With our two torches we thus began our adventure.  There was some very old furniture. After some inspection we discovered a dusty, big, broken painting canvas with a half done painting.

We spent around 5 minutes on the ground floor without witnessing any paranormal activity. We moved up to the first floor next. It was not very dark in there; moon light from windows was illuminating the room. We heard some footsteps although nobody was visible. It was enough to set the panic button on but then we had a general consensus on Vivek’s view, “yar Bandar ya langoor hoge chhat pe

Hemant and I moved to the other room, it had a double bed and a very big mirror. I casually flashed the torch on mirror and for a quarter second we saw a black figure behind us. With a scream both of us turned back just to see nothing. Baba, Vivek and Nick also invaded the room in shock. I pointed towards the mirror but this time there was nothing. Suddenly Nick screamed (not because he saw something but mockingly just to irritate Baba) Both Hemant and I were petrified so all of us decided to go back, although Nick was not in any mood. The moment we stepped out of the room we again saw a figure on the wall opposite the door. Only this time the figure was clear. It appeared to be of a middle-aged, grey-haired woman in a dressing gown and a hat. Run was the Call. We all ran like hell and within no time we were out of boundary wall.

With trembling legs and faded faces, we stared at each other with a sense of relief.  Before the next breath, first we heard faint sounds of bells and then terrifying sound of a woman giving a low moan like as if she was crying. We did not try to figure out what it was. We just ran away from the haunted villa as fast as people do when a group of mad bulls chases them. Despite the distance, we could hear that the intensity of the howl was becoming sharper. There was something that was forcing us to keep looking back over our shoulder. After a little while the sound disappeared and it was drop dead silence all around. We could even hear our breaths clearly.

 Our mind, body and soul were already on tenterhooks to add on, out of the blue, it started raining. The pattering raindrops from the gigantic cedars made it even more spine-chilling. It was cold, very cold. A far distant light on the opposite hill seemed like our one and only hope. We kept moving and the next 1200 seconds seemed like eternity. After those longest 20 minutes of our lives we reached the main road, finally out from the jungle. We finally had the breath of our life. The very next moment we lost our breath again upon the discovery that Nick was missing! Butterflies had started playing football in our stomachs now. We all turned back yelling “NICK “,“ Nick “,“ nick “,“nic”. To our dismay there was no answer. Without wasting any more time we ran backwards yelling his name. After about 200 meters, out Of nowhere, we saw a figure standing on the edge of the woods. This time though it was not any ghost, it was Nick! He was busy explaining to Prof Kriti* that “why his mobile was switched off? “

*Prof. Kriti = It stands for that one really hot college teacher we all wish to date.






EPISODES HOME Copyright © 2010 Sudhanshu Kapoor, Preeti Arora

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