The Candle

I have always felt evenings are weird, it seems like a blend of both worlds. Beautiful, no doubt, but weird. The darkness of the advancing night etching closer and closer to swallow the red aura marking the death of day. The sun passes on its light to the moon, who doesn't really handle the job that well. I mean, it's still dark, isn't it? The only time when you'll see both bats swooshing through the trees and birds flying high up in the sky. Street lights blink open when it's not completely dark. Some people set off to work, while others return home looking so tired as if they just sold their souls. Perhaps they did, how else would they buy stuff? Adults are weird too.

But not as weird as the battered old one-storeyed empty house down our street. Like those few old men in the metro who refuse an empty seat. Standing crookedly on its worn foundations with only the sheer power of will, as if still trying to maintain its reputation in front of its younger neighbors. How can the same house look so different during the day and at night? During the day, you wouldn't bat an eye at this house. It blends in so easily with its neighbors that most people forget it even exists. During night though, it seems like one of those houses you see in those horror TV shows. Like a fusion of the normal and the paranormal. An old dried-up tree, with leaves grazing the foggy broken glass paned windows and a rusty old mailbox on its dark grayish lawn, that had lost its hue due to years of neglect. However, what caught my eye today was none of its usual hideousness.

Behind the broken attic window, just above the front door, I saw a faint yellow glow. Is that a candle? Who would light a candle in an empty house? I hadn't quite followed my thoughts to a conclusion when I found the answer to it. Draped completely in white, a hooded figure, stared intently at the candle, like a moth admiring a flame. I gazed at it for a while, but could not make any sense of it. The more I tried to understand what it was, the more my eyes seemed to blur, not unlike paying attention in math class. Like trying to walk straight through a fog or trying to remember a dream you just had, whatever it was, it seemed to be just outside my reach. I was awake, wasn't I? Then, as if through the fog it turned towards me and I froze. Those intense white eyes seem to glare at my soul. A chill ran down my spine. Panic-stricken, I tried to run, but I couldn't. My body wasn't mine anymore. It seemed to be calling at me. Unknowingly I took a step towards the house. No, I wanted to. I wanted to see the candle, its warm aura seemed to call me. I couldn't look away. I stepped past the broken fence, onto the overgrown lawn.

“Ravi?... Ravi !? ”

An arm tugged me back into reality. I broke out of the trance. It was Jyoti. I had forgotten he was here with me.

“What are you doing?? One minute we were talking and the next you're having a staring contest with someone? Your face is all red.”

I fell on my knees. I was sweating profusely.

Was it fear? fear of death? No, it didn't feel as simple as that.

It took me a while to regain my voice.

“I-”, I stuttered as I pointed at the window I was looking at. And not surprisingly, the figure was gone. But not the candle. I am not dumb, I know a ghost when I see one. Jyoti, on the other hand, laughed at me when I explained everything to him.

“Do you even know why that house is empty?”, he enquired.

Of course not. What ten-year-old would want to know about what happens in his neighborhood? We're more concerned about what happens in the next Power Rangers episode.

“Shall we go in? ”, I suggested.

“What? Didn't you just say you just saw a ghost? ”

“I'm still curious. Who wouldn't want to see a ghost up close? Plus, I want to check out the candle. Why would there be a candle in an empty house? Also, I've always wanted to go into the house but my father wouldn't let me. And I thought you weren't afraid of ghosts. ”

“Of course, I'm not afraid. I don't believe there is anything like a ghost. All those horror shows are fake. Don't you know that? ”

“People like you are the first ones to die in those shows. ”

“Fine. I’ll go! But you owe me a treat. ”

I knew taunting him would work. It's too easy. Also, I don't know why, but I knew it would be reassuring if I had Jyoti by my side. He's not at all skinny, but it would not be right to call him fat. He's somewhere in that sweet gray zone that parents want their kids to be. Overall, if I had to choose someone from a group of ten-year-olds to support me on my Ghostbuster mission, I would pick Jyoti because- well, he seems stronger than me.

“Sure! Who's a goood boy? ”

“Screw you! Not a dog treat. You'll treat me to the special panipuri down the street. ”

There goes my pocket money for this month, I thought.