It was way past midnight. I was returning from a late night shoot of one of my horror films to my eighth-floor apartment. I crept into bed, and was trying to sleep when I felt that the ghost from my movie was lurking behind the wall-cupboard.
I felt an almost electric shudder down my spine. I laughed out loud at my own imagination. The ghost’s laugh came out from behind the wall blending with my laughter. Startled, I gaped at the wall. There was complete silence.
I reminded myself that the ghost was a figment of my own imagination. Now my own imagination was playing tricks with me, it was scaring the hell out of me. I smiled to myself at the absurdity of the situation. My mind told me to go and check if there was anything or anyone behind the cupboard. My sensibility said, “No, don’t be silly.” After debating whether I should or shouldn’t, I resisted the temptation to check out my fears, and just kept staring at the cupboard. After gaping for a long time, I couldn’t resist calling out to the ghost, “Are you there?” In response, there was dead silence.
I felt a rush of anger at myself, for my dread of the irrational. Yet my mind again insisted that I should go and check if there was anyone behind the cupboard. Simultaneously, my sensibility warned me that I would be a big hypocrite for having always claimed that I don’t believe in ghosts.
Finally, after much procrastination, I turned away from the cupboard and closed my eyes. And then sure enough, I heard footsteps slowly approaching me from behind my back. I hated my mind for torturing me, for playing tricks with me. As my sensibility continued to argue with my mind, I could feel someone getting into the bed.
I started rapidly analysing my mind on why it was imagining such stupid stuff. And then I could feel the sound of someone’s breath approaching me, I almost felt the breath on my neck. I whirled around. There was nothing and no one in the room. As I looked around, every object in the room from the TV set and the books to the painting on the wall looked back at me as if they had a life of their own. All the objects seemed to be conspiring along with the ghost behind the cupboard.
I felt helpless, my mind was having a whale of a time scaring me. And then I had this idea. I picked up my cell phone and called up the actress who was playing the part of the ghost in my film. She said, “Hi Ramuji”, a little surprised that I was calling her up so late in the night. I made up some production-related story and had a conversation with her for a while. On hearing her normal voice and having a normal conversation, the fear of the ghost was exterminated from my mind. By the time I hung up, I was normal. I went back to sleep, gloating inwardly that I had defeated my mind with the ammunition of my sensibility.