The Ghost Woman

In a narrow tunnel, beneath the Mahal,

There were webs and centipede crawling,

A strange kind of stale air suffocating the,

Nostrils, and that eeriness which gave me,

Goosebumps and chills down my spine,

Still a teenager girl I was with curious mind,

Attracted me in those days to explore,

I waited for the warm days to begin,

When we were free to roam in the reign,

The whole kin of the haunted kings and,

Their hunting abode, a stone structure,

With only two floors, we went there,

And played in the daytime, but saw never,

Dead king walking or ghosts, but that!

Tunnel was where we always wanted to go,

But we dared not to, the whole place was,

Fearsome, but our young hearts never,

Cared, and one day we dared, entered the,

Tunnel and kept going, it was small one,

Me and my brother holding hands,

Walking slowly, hearing beats own,

And when we reached the light, the end,

Of the tunnel we saw a beautiful woman,

Smiling at us, we were almost half dead,

There was no thought; we knew she was that,

A ghost, a soul still haunting the Mahal,

Yet in this chaos I noticed she was beautiful,

A Nepalese woman, wearing traditional clothes,

In that moment thought we, here how came,

A woman from hills and to our guts that has,

Gone lose, we ran to our hearts and never,

Turned behind, she said no word and only smiled,

The incident scared us, stole our sleeps,

Disturbed and panicked we told at home,

My mother rescued us telling she was,

No ghost, the wife of a night guard she,

Had come to visit her husband, what sigh!

We were relieved, our young hearts delighted,

And we went again to the Mahal, played there,

Climbing to the roof, hiding behind the kaput,

Walls playing hide and seek, and time passed,

We grew adults, once again the Mahal stood,

In its solace, silent and eerie, there were no giggles,

No laughter of ours, perhaps the place,

Enjoyed us or those invisible eyes, so never,

Came to scare us, but a news did, that Nepalese lady,

Was murdered with an axe, in her hometown,

Our hearts were soared, that day was our last,

Even to glance at the Mahal or talk about,

The tunnel was there, dark and hushed,

There were no games, no bets for trespassing,

For us the absence became more frightening,

Than her presence, we truly didn’t wanted,

To see her sitting again at the end of the tunnel!


*Monalisa Joshi*










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