The long corridor, dark and dank led to the teachers’ rooms, an extension of our boarding school building. Miss Debra Roach had just arrived from her short leave as her father was ill. She had just entered her room; it was 11pm by the clock as the bells of the St James’ Church nearby tolled stealthily. She heard a knock on her door, it made her wonder, “Who could it be at this unearthly hour?” She opened the door and found Bella and her sister looking at her with expectant smiles on their faces. Miss Roach asked them what it was that they wanted so late at night. Her pretty face was now shrouded with an anxious frown.
Often the girls from the boarding went to her when they felt homesick or needed some tender loving care and food but nobody ever came so late at night. She was a young teacher, beautifully vibrant and popular among all of us. Bella who was known for her mischievous antics answered with her dimpled smile: “Miss it’s Halloween night, choose trick or treat?” Miss Roach firmly told them to go back to their dormitory at once, but gently handed some cookies and two pieces of freshly baked cake to the girls before she shut her door. “Miss this is a trick too ...” grinned Bella as the door closed on her! Miss Roach decided that she would have to speak to the warden the next day about the two girls who had wandered into the teacher’s quarters so late.
The next day brought in its advent a shocker for Miss Roach and all of us when we heard her story. The two girls — Bella and Sabrina were hit by a bus a couple of days back on the busy tram-laden road in front of our school — on the Lower Circular Road in Kolkata, a road known for innumerable accidents. They were going home for the weekend with their mother when the accident took place. In Miss Roach’s absence the two girls had passed away, it was a horrible truth for all of us, this untimely demise. But Miss Roach’s story was more of a frightful shocker. She understood the meaning of the word “trick” now ... the last words of Bella and that grin on her face. That Halloween night surely proved that truth was sometimes stranger than fiction. This story stayed with us till much after the memorial service of the girls at St James’. Halloween reminded us of the two girls every year, as we refrained from going anywhere near that dark, dank corridor, on nights such as this.
All old buildings, especially the ones that were built on graves have spine-chilling stories engraved in their concrete innards, which seemed to come alive at times, unexpectedly and catch you unawares. As was my wont, I would collect all these tales from people attached to such ancient dwellings, some were dilapidated palaces of Indigo planters of Bengal, the premises of Jamali and Kamali in Delhi and not to forget Hastings House in Kolkata, which is more than 250 years old. According to the story, the ghost of Warren Hastings, India’s first governor-general, still visits his home looking for some of his valuables that were misplaced when he moved from Kolkata to England. And his visits are nothing less than royal. They say a carriage drawn by four horses can be seen appearing near the building on some nights. Some see him while others simply hear his footsteps that rush to one of the floors upstairs before disappearing. Well, to believe or not to is a choice, but to relish such stories on a rain-soaked evening with friends is certainly a ‘treat’!
Halloween in its wake will bring with it hashtags aplenty on social media like- #Samhain, #pagan, #witches, #haunted, etc. Thus conjuring images of witches, broomsticks, black cats with piercing eyes and excited children planning parties, costumes and “trick” ideas! Jack O’ Lanterns and Candy corns, bonfires have become synonymous with the celebrations. Halloween merchandise is said to amass ‘ghostly’ profits propelling many a business venture over the moon — no, not necessarily on a broomstick! Children who come to my creative writing sessions and book club have been nudging me into giving them those “Goosebump” books that I promised I would read to them around this ‘unearthly’ day. Yes, I began with The Black Cat by Ruskin Bond from his book A Season of Ghosts.
The Celts the natives of Ireland began the tradition of Trick-or-treating, of putting out treats and food to placate spirits who roamed the streets at Samhain, a sacred festival that marked the end of the Celtic calendar year. This reminds me of another tale that I heard of from an Indonesian family. They were very proud of their house because it was haunted by a benevolent spirit and served delicious treats during each meal for Mr Spirit too. Surprisingly, he would consume the food served leaving all around him in high spirits!
In the gathering darkness of Halloween, fear lurks deceptively around, footsteps behind make you turn at emptiness; as your lips spell out with gaping mouth and cry “Ghosts”! Happy #Halloween!
Navanita Varadpande is a writer based in Dubai.
