This story is from my bachelor days at a distant place called Rawatbhata. In midst of dry arid jungle of Darrah, it was an oasis. A pristine blue-green lake surrounded by the hills of Aravalli range. The lake did not exist there even a decade before my arrival. An artificial lake created by blocking the flow of Chambal River by a dam. Most of the time of the year the surrounding had a barren brown look. The hills around had flat tops with good tree cover. The place was magical. Absolutely no pollution, everything was in nature’s unadulterated form. Not even any manmade noise. No radio station, no television, nothing. At such an unpolluted place, one would expect a pure blue sky with visibility of miles. But no. The barren land produced loads of fine dust to be thrown high up with wind. Most of the time there was a light haze all around. In summer you could often see whirlpools of wind playing like a child with dust, dry leaves making them to swirl and taking them up, moving erratically with small footprint on the land. In a short time it would get bored and stop playing. The airborne dry leaves then helplessly tried to get back to their origin.
Evenings were the most magical. With the sun going down the sky would become a pallet of color; red, orange, yellow in all possible shades. Very unpredictable. Every day the composition of color canvas would be something out of the world, even beyond the imagination of a grown up artist. Probably a toddler with a thick brush and bucket full of colors could create such unpredictable compositions. A lonely person looking at the evening sky can go crazy, particularly if someone is predisposed. I had bouts of such intimidating emotions handful of times.
The place waited thirstily for water throughout the year. When the rainy season neared the nature would get ready in anticipation. Just like a sprinter at the start line of the race track waiting for gunshot. A minutest hint of rain entire landscape will become lush green. No words can describe such transformation.

I was haunted by the soul of that place. It was capable of giving you all sorts of sensory and emotional experiences. Few drops of rain would embrace you with overwhelming smell of wet soil. Every flowering tree would create a territory of its own with its fragrance. Mornings were peaceful, with little chill even in summer times, grasses wet with dew, evaporating in no time after the appearance of sun light. Langoors were the original inhabitants of that place, human beings encroached there motherland. They always exercised their right to access any place, windows, rooftops, parapet everywhere. I heard from people that leopards visited once in a while.

Being a metro city bred person, in that magical world my initial days were mix of love and hate experience. Absolutely no urban amenities. In fact it was a mere village with few hot spots of human activity. I got a sharing room in a hostel. With large number of co-bachelors it was like a resident clubhouse. It was a fun life. After one and half years I got my independent quarter on a hilltop residential colony. With a small suitcase load of my belongings I moved to my one bedroom hall kitchen, ground floor apartment. Large enough for a bachelor. My belongings were too little to fill the built-in wall-cupboard. Thanks to one of my friends I got a folding cot with some bedding and one folding chair on loan. The bedroom had a large glass window overlooking a small patch of open field. The nearest house was at least 100ft away. Close to the window was a small tree and little behind that a street light. I had no curtains for the windows not even a single one. In that wilderness I didn’t think that anybody would be that curious to peep through the window to inspect the new occupant. So I did not show any proactiveness to cover the glass panes even with a few newspapers. Shutting the windows was not a choice in the hot summer days even though I was advised to do so to stop the uninvited slithering guests or stinging black scorpions. Bang opposite there was a small window overlooking the backyard. As the night grew, temperature fell sufficiently and the little cross ventilation made the room pleasant.

My daily routine was dictated by my duty timing. Morning 08:00 am is reporting time, another 45 minutes of travel by office bus. 30 minutes to go to bachelor’s mess and eat breakfast. Add 30 minutes to get ready. So getting up at 06:15 am was a must. Going to bed by 11 pm was absolutely necessary. I was slowly getting used to the lonely nights.

That eventful night was little windy and pleasant. Getting quickly into sleep was never a problem with me. But on that otherwise pleasant night what was disturbing me was the light and shadow play going on the wall opposite the window. I had absolutely no idea of the script of the shadow play of the tree dancing in wind along with the lamp post, but it definitely inspired a lot of scary imaginations in my mind. But as the night progressed melatonin hormone took over the brain and I went to sleep.

I do not remember what woke me up in the middle of the night. With the sleepy but open eyes I could see that light and shadow play still going on but this time with sound too, some low key sound of something moving periodically. Tried to feel the source but couldn’t. I thought some cricket or grasshopper was the villain. I had earlier experienced scary sounds being made by these insects in an otherwise pin drop silent night. I got up and walked up to the switchboard and switched on the light. The sound immediately stopped. Looked around the room; I noticed nothing unusual. I thought something was wrong with me, switched off the light and went back to bed. The moment I was about to get back to sleep, the creaky sound started again. I was getting really scared. I tiptoed to the switchboard and switched on the light. The sound again stopped. Gathered some courage and this time inspected the hall and kitchen too. I could find absolutely nothing. It was pretty disturbing in the middle of night.

It was getting difficult to get sleep again but after some time sleep crept in. How time I could sleep I don’t know, again the creaky sound as something is moving on the floor, woke me up. It was horrifying. I kept listening to the low key sound and tried to gauge the source. Apparently it was coming from the direction of the passage leading to the bathroom and to the door for the backyard. Switched on the light and the sound stopped. Must be some ghost. I was really scared. Still with speeding heartbeat I checked the passage. Nothing. This time I decided to not to sleep and wait for the sound to reappear. I kept on waiting for some time nothing happened. I was about to fall asleep, the sound started again. This time I did not switch on the light. Followed the sound. It appeared to be coming from outside the door. With all courage I opened the door. I felt that that sound was coming from the cemented floor of the way to backyard from the formed by the wall. Switched the outside light. To my surprise I saw a small piece of crisp cellophane paper merrily going round and round in the corner. A small whirlpool got created there by the light wind blowing. I picked up the paper. The sound stopped. I was so happy that it was not a ghost but playful wind that tried to scare me with a Near Ghost Experience. I went back to bed relaxed and with a proud feeling of having bravely confronted such a ghostly experience. Soon I went back to sleep.

I was not fortunate enough. I woke up again and heard a similar sound once again, but slightly fainter. I literally lost all my courage to get up and investigate. I covered my face with the pillow and tried to switch off my all senses.

When I got up again it was morning.

This is a real story of my life. It was not a ghost, but certainly a Near Ghost Experience.