...Hauntings..

...The Scribbles...

"THE SCRIBBLES" Bangalore, India (2010)

I was visiting a friend in Bangalore when I chanced upon this group of college students who were sitting a corner giggling away to glory in the coffee shop I happened to be sitting in.

Soon from English they shifted to a local dialect, which I could not understand. I asked my friend what they were talking about, as I was completely curious. He told me they were reiterating a famous ghost story that was very common in these parts and just happened a few blocks away a year ago.

I would never shy away from a good story so I managed to convince my friend to tell me about it. He was a little hesitant at first but when I told him I would pay a months rent for his accommodation, he gladly agreed.

So the story goes like this; Vikram Chauhan had been working with the ICICI bank since he had passed out of college. He had done well for himself and had ended up marrying the girl he had loved all throughout his college. One year into the marriage, the couple's love bore fruit and they were blessed with a baby daughter who is now three. Just recently the couple had shifted from their older apartment near the airport to this new one

Anaida or so the daughter was called lovingly; was the apple of the parent's eyes. Her little tiny feet scurrying across the empty floors of the new home brought immense happiness to the couple. Soon enough they realized it was time to send Anaida to a play school for her to understand the ways of the world.

First day of school was usual. Anaida would not leave her mothers fingers and when the teachers tried to do so she would howl out loud with big blobs of tears in her eyes.

After every five minutes she would want Vikram to carry her around on his shoulders, this ordeal continued for most of the day till she finally saw kids of her age doing things alone, her tears were dry and in a shivering conviction she told her parents that she would stay. The teachers assured the parents that she would be fine and their kind faces reinforced the parent's confidence in them.

The day passed by and it was finally time to get Anaida home from day care. Vikram drove home from the bank only to see Anaida giggling and running to him. "How was the first day little trouble" he asked the daughter nudging her on the nose, she giggled and replied out loud "nice"

Vikram drove back home where the wife was waiting with evening tea and snacks and on the way the daughter regaled him with stories of her first day. She spoke about her teachers and the school building and the stickers of Mickey Mouse and Disney animals on the walls and giant boards and games and a very special friend she had made in the school park; Disha, she kept going on and on about this girl. Vikram was very happy his daughter had made a friend, someone else she would be occupied with.

That night Vikram went to bed early, he was not feeling well. His wife on the other hand was sitting with Anaida in her room, playing with her. Since she had not met the daughter the entire day, she had not heard the stories that her daughter had shared with Vikram. "So Anaida, how was school today?" she asked smiling at her daughter who was scribbling something on a blank workbook with her crayons. The little girl without looking up replied "nice". The mother was not worried; Anaida loved her colors and she had the habit of drawing and talking all at the same time. "Did you make any friends?" she asked sitting comfortable beside her to admire the scribbles she was making. "Disha" replied the little girl, changing over to another crayon. "Is she in your class?" asked the mother caressing the daughters hair. "No" replied Anaida vigorously reinforcing her scribbles on the page, she was using all her concentration to create the masterpiece she was working on. "How did you meet her?" asked the mother. "In the school park" replied the girl, her crayon strokes had become slower now, and with each passing second she was coming to the end of her creation. "Does she not come to class with you?" asked the mother. Anaida finally looked up, she was done with her painting "she says they don't allow her, she can only be in the park, but she is very nice mommy, she told me stories about her mommy and daddy and how she was happy to meet me, we played on the swings and went on the slides we even painted together and we read stories", she finally stopped to take a breath. The mother was happy and worried about the daughters excitement, she was happy that Anaida had made a good friend, but what sort of a child is not allowed into the class.