Detoxification My Way - Day 3 : A Ghost Story

It is Friday already. Sigh.....I usually look forwards to Fridays but when I am on holiday, Friday means Monday is just around the corner. Sigh.....It has been a wonderful three days at home. This morning I spent a few more hours in my garden. I feel so peaceful and rested.

Today is day three of my detox and I feel good. Yesterday, I had a lot of time and I visited by friends' blogs to catch up. And that's when the withdrawal symptoms started. You see, I have been eating salads with very light seasoning. I miss my cili padi. I miss my sambal belacan. And that after only two days :(

Japanese Rose.

I started craving for chee cheong fan, spicy fried chicken, cakes, you name it. And it didn't help when I settled down for the evening in front of the TV. Fox Crime was airing Perception, not my favorite show. So I switched to BBC Entertainment.

Masterchef Professional was on halfway but I didn't really fancy the artsy fartsy food. Then the next show came on. Sorry, can't remember the name but it featured pastries and baked goods. Adoi! Looking at the crispy and buttery French croissants really has me twitching on the sofa. Not to mention the custard fruit tarts, Victoria Sponge Cake and Madeleines. 

After that was Madhur Jaffrey's Curry Nation. I love Madhur Jaffrey! Her curries never fail to get me all fired up. The sight of freshly prepared dosai and pakoras dipped in curry really tortured me. Oh I miss my Indian curry! It didn't help that this morning I caught a whiff of my curry plant, which by the way is experiencing a growth spurt.

Photo taken this morning. Lots of new shoots coming out. I must cook curry soon!

When it was time for lunch today, I just couldn't face another salad even though I love salads most of the time. I settled on steamed chicken seasoned with Bragg Liquid Aminos, a dash of sesame oil and garnished with spring onions and ginger. And I made a simple cucumber pickle. It was quite good and I was happy.

Another variety of Hibiscus bloomed this morning.

Do you believe in ghosts? If I am not mistaken, this month is the Hungry Ghost month. Ever since I was small, I have always been fascinated with ghosts and the paranormal . I think this must have been my grandpa's influence.

I used to watch the Sixth Sense with my grandparents on Thursday nights. That was a TV series back in the seventies starring Gary Collins. My grandpa also had a big collection of books on the supernatural.

I have to admit that I am big coward. I will not watch any horror movies at night if I am alone. Of course I am a lot braver now than when I was small. But still.....In spite of being a scaredy cat, I still want to watch horror movies and read ghost stories.

One of the creepiest movies I watched was Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (the 1970's version) when I was in secondary school. At that time, my family was living in  the government quarters in Batu Buruk, Kuala Terengganu. And that house, my friends, was haunted.

Another pinky bloomed this morning.

It was a single storey bungalow with a big garden with two other similar houses adjacent to ours. There were a few big trees at the front, side and behind the house. They were Acacia, Casuarina and Flame of the Forest trees. There was also a cashew nut tree and a passion fruit plant.

I don't know when the house was built and for how long it had been occupied. What I know is that it didn't have good vibes. There were two bedrooms, one at the back and one at the front. My brother and I shared the front room. The master bedroom was at the back and had a study room attached.

One of the things that I found strange was the color of the paint in the dining room and master bedroom. The dining room wall was a dark green and if your drew the curtains, the whole area would become dark even during the day. The master bedroom was painted dark purple. And that room was perpetually dark and gloomy.

The study room (I have goosebumps as I write this) was small and musty and I could never stay in there for more than a few minutes. There was so much negative energy in there and it makes you want to bolt and run.

Behind the kitchen was a servant's room and a space my mum used to hang our laundry. I guess there must have been an attached toilet in the servant's room but I never ventured back there because I found in creepy.

There was a toilet behind the house which we never used. I reckon that toilet was there for the guard or gardener. And that particular spot, right outside that toilet was especially creepy even during the day. I will always hurry past that spot if I ever passed by the backyard.

We had a gardener who came to take care of the grounds. One of his job was to sweep away the dry leaves as there were many trees outside and they shed loads of dry leaves. He used a broom made from coconut fronds (penyapu lidi) and it made a characteristic swish, swish, sound as the broom scrapes against the concrete outside.

One fine day, I did something mischievous. As I mentioned, I have a fascination with the paranormal and had been reading a book called Witchcraft in America Today. It was an old book in my grandpa's library.

In one of the chapters of the book, I read that you can predict answers to questions by using a ring tied to a string. Lower that ring halfway into a glass and hold it there. Ask a question and the ring would swing like a pendulum. If it hits the glass once, the answer is yes and twice if the answer is no.

Out of curiosity, I tried it at my grandparent's house. I predicted what dress my mother would wear when she came to fetch me. It was accurate. I predicted what position I would get after my exam. It was also accurate. Unknown to me, I had summoned something from the other side and it was the one answering my questions.

A few days after playing with the ring, strange things started to happen. At night, I could hear the swish, swish, sound of the gardener's broom sweeping outside my room. Surely it couldn't be him sweeping the garden at night.

Then, late at night I could hear someone arranging my books on my study table. My study table was just across from my bed. Did I open my eyes to look? Please, lah. Don't expect Ms Scaredy Cat to open her eyes. I was hiding under my blanket. In the morning when I checked, everything was in place just like when I left it. Weird.

And then, there would be sounds coming from the cupboard beside my bed. In that cupboard was a doll, a male version of the Barbie doll. It belonged to my cousin and he had left it behind. When I checked the cupboard in the morning, there was nothing unusual in there. Just toys and some odds and ends.

One night, I experienced something that I would never forget for the rest of my life. I still remember it was a Wednesday night because they next day, Thurday, was the day I went over to my grandparents to spend the weekend (In Terengganu our weekend is Friday and Saturday). 

My mum had taken my youngest brother with her to a neighbor's dinner party. My dad was at home with me and my younger brother. As usual, my brother and I went to bed at 8:30pm (we were a disciplined lot). Late into the night, I felt someone tugging at my pillow.

I usually hug my pillow when I sleep. My first thought was of course my pesky brother. Why is he pulling at my pillow? I held on tight to my pillow. The tugging got stronger. That was when I realized that my brother, who was sleeping in the other bed beside mine, could not be the one doing the pulling. 

As my pillow was being pulled, I instinctively pulled back harder. My eyes were closed the whole time, OK? Whoever it was at the other end decided to let go and because I was pulling so hard, the pillow landed on my face.

And that was when that something pushed the pillow down hard on my face. I turned my head to the left so that I could breathe and it kept on pushing. My heart was racing in my chest and I was such a coward I dared not move. After a while it stopped pushing. And something else happened. 

I felt myself floating above my bed. Yes, fat old me levitating as if I were as light as a feather. It was a very, very weird feeling. It lasted maybe for a minute or two. And then I felt myself coming down onto the bed but the strange thing was that both my legs were still in the air. As if I was doing tummy exercise.

I forcefully lowered my right leg but as soon as I let go, my leg floated up again. I forced my leg down again and guess what? The force that was holding my legs let go and both my legs dropped down and hit the edge of the bed. Which means that my legs were really floating......

After that, I heard the sound of a woman wailing in the distance. Very scary. I did not move at all even though I could feel that there was no more presence in the room. My pajama was soaked with sweat. I dared not even open my eyes. It was only when I heard my dad opening his bedroom door did I move and open my eyes.

When my mum woke up, I immediately went to tell her. My mum believed me and told me to throw away the ring (luckily it was a costume jewelry ring). If I remember correctly, I threw in in the rubbish bin outside and somehow that ring didn't get disposed and at night, I could still hear the "gardener" sweeping the pavement. It was only when I took the ring and threw it outside the vicinity of the house did the noises stop.

My ordeal did not stop there. The next evening, it was my Thursday with my grandparents. I was relieved that I did not have to spend the night in my room as I did not know if that thing would come back.

But, late night in my room at my grandparents, the curtains right beside my bed somehow brushed against me as if it were blown by the wind.  Mind you, the windows were shut. This time, I jumped out of bed and switched on the light.

The next morning, I requested my grandma to change the curtain to one that was longer so that I could use the bolster to hold it against the wall. I also related to my grandparents what had happened at the quarters.

My grandpa, who personally has had encounters with the paranormal tried to calm me down by offering logical explanations. I guess he didn't want me to be scared.

My henna plant.

When I went back home, thankfully nothing happened. My family moved out after two years because the quarters were being refurbished to house dignitaries coming in from other states to attend the installation of Sultan Mahmud (late father of the present sultan of Terengganu, Tuanku Mizan).

It was only after we moved into our own home did my mum tell me of her own experience at the quarters. I also learned that some nights, my brother could feel someone stroking his hair. Eeekk!!!

So that's my true story for you. And I have a few more but I shall save that for next year's detox. Hah! Hah!

My pink Hibiscus plants are blooming abundantly.

Tomorrow I will walk down memory lane and tell you about my experience living in a residential school. See ya!