Spooky stories
Remember any spooky stories with ghosts or midnight sounds or forbidden doors? Any scary tales from school, boarding days or colonial hill stations? Especially the stories that are true?
My school, La MArtiniere at Lucknow, has a 'Blue Lady' that, apparently, walks around at night, especially on the drawbridge over the moat around the college turrets. Her purpose or unfinished business remains a mystery..
One late night at NIFT, in my first year, I was helping graduating design students in preparing their collection in the night lab. We would occasionally go to the bridge on the second floor for a breath of cool fresh night air. That night we saw a door, that is always locked, banging away on the terrace of the building. Soon everyone was outside and the door kept banging. We all decided to go and see what the matter was but it was some time before anyone could summon up the courage to go. Finally some seniors went to check out the matter. Meanwhile an old watchman at NIFT, told us stories of suicide attempts, from that terrace, by frustrated students and how the college building was probably built on a burial ground..
Comment and tell me a spooky story or anecdote..
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October 1st, 2007 - 00:36
lol…the nift ghosts!!!
well we happened to do some ‘blank chit’ on the leather design bridge one fine day…spooky or not some miss/mr atma definitely came over to tell me i got a ‘B’ in geometry…which, considering the fact that im just “ok” with geometry… turned out to be true…these days i wonder whether that was the safest bet our dear bhut placed in order to make us believe him or her…i just hope when i die i dont come and haunt this place…..nift has haunted me enough to last me this lifetime and the next….
way to go malvika….its been a good read so far.:)
November 8th, 2007 - 02:59
Hi Malvika!
Yr blog reminded me of the innumerable major General Claud Martin’s noble spirit (read Claudy) stories that occupied the constantia estate!
Some of them were reaaally spoooky!
Gd !
Cheers
Kunal
December 2nd, 2007 - 08:22
As a child I lived in an old colonial bunglow in Pusa Institute.The house was surrounded with tall trees that whispered ominously with the slightest breeze on dark winter nights. Our old gardener told us that an English gentlemen who had lived and died there was sometimes seen floating among the trees. He still wore his hat. His spinster sister was also seen.
Whether the ghosts were there or not, the musty smell of people from a far off land and different climes hung like something there and not quite there in that place.