22 June 2008

Do you believe in ghosts?

It's a lazy Sunday morning, and I don't have anything to do. So I'm going to tell you about some unexplainable experiences I've had. You can decide to believe it was paranormal, or you can come up with a reasonable, logical, scientific explanation. I'm open to both.

It happened some years back while I was a student in Delhi. I with two of my friends had recently moved into this small flat on the 5th floor of a building in Rajendra Nagar. It was a one bedroom apartment, small kitchen, small bathroom with an enormous balcony. We pushed our beds together and all slept together. So it was like this major super king-sized bed where we could all loll around and avoid body contact, which was important in the intolerable heat. It was a crummy place, but we were not exactly rolling in money.

The first incident happened on our first night there. I was asleep when something (I think some movement) woke me up. I opened my eyes and saw a figure in the dark, I thought it was my friend Apuii going to the bathroom so I went right back to sleep. However, something woke me up again later, and I saw the person's silhoutte in the dark, still standing there. Thinking it was still my friend, I was unalarmed and drifted off to sleep again.

Something woke me up yet again, and I looked and saw the person still standing there. I saw it so vividly, even the way it stood. One hand on the waist, one hand on the back of its head, like it was rubbing it. I still thought it was my friend, but I was a little worried now, and wondered why she was standing there in the dark for so long. I thought maybe she was not feeling well but didn't want to wake us up.

I decided to ask her what was wrong, and called out 'Mate' (not the Australian 'mate,' Mizo term of endearment, which was how we always called each other). And the word had barely left my mouth when I saw my friend sleeping peacefully right next to me! Terror gripped me, I moved so fast I don't even know how I did it, but in a sec, I was hugging my friend as tight as I could, no longer mindful of the heat and the sweat - keeping my eyes tightly shut.

I lay like that for a while, but I started thinking, and I was angry with myself for being so afraid. So I finally moved away from my friend and opened my eyes. And saw nothing.

Another incident happened in broad daylight. I and one of the girls, Papi were at home sleeping late. Apuii had left in the morning because she had work. The Delhi summer was at its cruelest peak, and us being all girls, we kept clothing inside the house as minimalistic as posisble. We were sleeping almost naked, when I heard something and opened my eyes, and saw a man's figure standing at the foot of our bed, looking down at us.

The first thought that came to my mind was that we must've forgotten to lock our door, and the landlord must've come and walked in, and seeing us 'unclothed' was feasting his eyes and thinking dirty thoughts. Not that we were any real sight to feast on. lol

Anyway, I just had a quick glance of the man because the moment I saw him, I jumped up, the only thought in my mind to cover ourselves, I grabbed a sheet and threw it over myself and the still sleeping Papi. And then I looked up. And again, no one. I got up, checked the doors which were all locked. There was nobody in the house except us. The man I saw was shirtless, and wore what looked like drawstring pajamas. Kind of heavy looking.

And people always tell me I must have been dreaming when I tell them. But I know I was awake in both cases.

Another incident was one night we had gone to meet a friend and her husband for dinner at the Hyatt. And we were home pretty late. We were still marveling about the rich food and the rich surroundings and the rich people we'd just eaten with, so ghosts were the farthest thing from our minds.

Walking up the small, spiraling, dark stairs, Papi took the keys and walked a little ahead. Me and Apuii had almost reached our flat when suddenly, Papi came rushing down the stairs like she was crazy. She tried to push past us, she was that panic stricken. But we grabbed her and asked her what was wrong. She told us that she'd just gotten the keys out, and was just about to open the door, when she heard very clear, loud knockings on the door. From the inside.

We stood there, all too scared to go up, but not knowing where else to go. We stood there on the stairs for a long time, giving each other pep talks. "Are you going to let a fat "Vai's" ghost scare you?" "We are believers of God, we should not let this scare us like this" and so on and so forth. By the end of which we bravely marched up, our faiths considerably strengthened :) There was no knocking this time. And we slept in peace.

There were a few minor other incidents that were strange and a little scary. But these 3 incidents were the most unnerving, and I remember them best. We moved out after 2 months, and I've lived in many different flats in many different cities ever since. But I've never experienced anything like that ever again. Sometimes we sit together, me and those girls, and talk about those days, and wonder if we'd really lived in a haunted house.

Well, that's the story. I don't know what caused those, or how to explain what happened. But I always brag that I've lived in a haunted house to my little cousins back home. Makes for good story telling times under the blanket on a rainy night.

21 June 2008

Easy Defence Mechanism

Why do lots of us take rickshaws even for short distances which we can easily walk? Because the streets are so full of disgusting, lecherous, fat, smelly, ugly as hell, balding, foul, loathsome, sexually frustrated, despicable human beings. For this reason, I try to avoid walking, because it has ceased to be an activity that gives pleasure, but just a chance to have your ass grabbed. And it gets me all angry and stressed out. Not good for my poor heart.

Anyway, driven by extreme frustration walking home from grocery shopping some nights back, I found out a way to scare them off easy. There was this one car that kept following us, stopping once in a while to ask us "Please shall we gift you lift please?" We said no once, then ignored them altogether, but they followed us, or would run and stop a little ahead, and ask us the same thing again when we walk by.

And on what seemed like their 10th stop, asking us the same thing, I just lost my temper, I'd been taking pictures of random things on the street so I stopped and pointed the camera at them, and it was like a magic wand! They sped away superfast.

But we were still about 10 minutes away from home, and the road is lined with losers, some of who were not fast enough. But I assure you, they all sped silently away after having their pictures taken.
Now why can't they all just peacefully pass out like this nice man here and stop bothering people?
Their lives would mean so much more if they would spend their days and nights in drunken stupors since they don't seem to possess even a shred of decency to respect other human beings who are strangers, or their wives/girlfriends/moms who are waiting for them at home while they are awake and alert.

I'd die of shame if my brother, dad, or boyfriend behaved like this on the streets - leching and leering at girls. And around 50 percent of the lechers look to be around my dad's age.

Anyway, ladies, have a camera with you at all times if you're going to be out. Wouldn't it be lovely if we can figure out how to send the pictures to their wives? Or their moms who has never imagined that their pure, virginal, babied-baby acknowledges the existence of the female sex. That's evil. But I'm feeling evil today. In fact, I've been feeling really evil for a while. I'm keeping a safe distance from everyone so I don't unintentionally spoil relations while I go through this evil phase. Whew. I wish I had a gun. Where can I buy a stun gun? What's a stun gun - I assume it's a gun that stuns, but doesn't kill. I want one.

16 June 2008

Mizo Bruce Lee

I hate to be posting only videos, but since I don't have anything better to write, plus, we have this new funny video that we made over the weekend, I think I can forgive myself for not writing. Anyway, it's not a bad video. It's about Bruce Lee - and didn't we all madly love him at some point in our lives? Or, if not the man himself, one or some of his movies?

How as a young girl I used to dream of rock-hard knuckles that would crack a walnut in the blink of an eye, and heels that were so hardened that I'd smash bricks with it with a mere impact and not feel a thing, and palms that would crush coconuts with no effort.

I would get up with my brother at the break of dawn and run out to find some roadside gravel where we could jump barefoot on. My brother assured me that that was the only path to my dreams. Then kneel and pound the gravel with open fists, so hard that sometimes I'd feel tears welling up. But I was on my way to becoming a great fighter, a true warrior, and real warriors don't cry.

And gravel was the answer to everything. Jump, jump, pound, pound - I was so determined! If that girl could see into the future and see me now - she'd be so disgusted with how I now strive to keep my my heels and my hands soft. All her efforts and all those tears gone to waste. I miss those days - doing Kung Fu with my brother while the world slept. Good times.

Anyway, here's our video. Watch - it's pretty fun. You might get a smile or two out of it.

09 June 2008

The Ring - our version

What do you get when you put a bandh, 3 Mizo girls, a Sony digicam, a fruit facepack, a shiny white robe, and some black kohl together?

It's easy. A Mizo horror movie!

Our main inspiration is one of the original The Ring movies (Ring O Basudei to be specific) which we had been watching that day. This is crazy fun to make, and I think it's pretty fun to watch as well. Here's a still from our new movie -And without further ado, here it is - The Ring in Mizo -

And this is us while making it, you can hear the great directoring here, but I must warn you that the co-director likes using foul language -

03 June 2008

All's right with the world

Macavity left for Sydney last night, I've never dreaded somebody's going away so much. It's just 2 months, but 2 months is 60+ frigging days! It seems at least one person or the other is always going away, gone, leaving, absent - to spoil that perfect time you otherwise would all have together. When somebody comes back, someone else goes away, or they all come back, and you go away, and you go back, and somebody goes away * sigh*

This whole thing made me think of Nirvana - freedom from the cycle of life and death. Now if Nirvana was all about freedom from the cycle of farewells and meetings in this lifetime, it'd definitely be more appealing to me.

Anyway, let's not dwell on murky thoughts. On to the brighter, prettier things life has to offer - check out this summer bloom outside my room -
I can actually see that from my bed, so if my head is facing the right direction, that's the first thing I'd see when I wake up in the morning. It's a very beautiful world to wake up to and I thank God for it. It makes the heat more tolerable.

Macavity & Pete's farewell party. Pete after a long time in India is also finally leaving.
See what I mean? Seems everybody's going away. But the open door here is that Pete #2 from Australia, another great friend, who we thought we had bid eternal goodbyes to, is coming back. There's always going to be a Pete around! Which is a lovely thing, since I'm fond of Petes :-) Also another funny thing is how farewell parties can be so much fun when one really hates having to let those people go. Anyway, as long as it's not like a Final farewell, I guess it's all okay.

And now, last topic of the day. Which will be me being nasty about something. Which is this flat in this apartment across ours. Which, incidentally, is the messiest and dirtiest I've seen. It's the one on the first floor, door partially open. They open that door once in a while, and I can't help but see inside. (Not intentional snooping, if I'm in the kitchen cooking, and look out the window, I see straight inside that flat, whether I want to or not).
It doesn't even look like it's lived in - from the first time I've seen inside, what I always see is a rolled up mat, on top of which is a couple of lumpy cushions, on top of which is a black, dusty as hell bean bag, on top of which is piled several dirty looking cushions again, I've actually even seen someone sit atop this pile! I must admit that the inhabitants are pretty good looking, very, very well dressed, but their house is so dirty (or maybe it's just that one room, but I doubt it) we have a name for the young son - Trawp-a - the filthy one, and the rest of the family members are Trawpa's mom and dad and sister. It's mean. But damn, you should see the house.

In my opinion, only the real poverty stricken people have any right to be dirty - could be difficult if you don't even have enough water to drink or money to buy food, much less soap and detergents. But for the rest of the normal citizens with access to running water, there just can be no excuse. I can never think too much of someone who can't even keep their own living places clean. Have you noticed 3/4 of the average shoe-wearing Indians wears them filthy? Sports shoes, smart shoes, heels, every sort of shoes - all dirty.

But why am I being a bitch and letting the dirt on other people's shoes bother me? Farewells, dirty houses, grimy shoes - whatever. I'll just join Pippa and say God's in His heaven, and all's right with the world!