About Me

I have done a lot of things in my life and have also worked in many different jobs to make a living and to experience life. This blog is just some of my musings, sometimes funny, sometimes inspirational, sometimes sad, sometimes angry, sometimes simple but all the time, it's just me.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

We only come out at night

We only come out at night, the days are much too bright
We only come out at night
And once again, you'll pretend to know me well, my friends
And once again, I'll pretend to know the way
Thru the empty space
Thru the secret places of the heart
We only come out at night, the days are mush too bright
We only come out at night
I walk alone, I walk alone to find the way home
I'm on my own, I'm on my own to see the ways
That I can't help the days, you will make it home o.k.
I know you can, and you can
We only come out at night, the days are much too bright
We only come out at night
And once again, you'll pretend to know that
There's an end, that there's an end to this begin
It will help you sleep at night
It will make it seem that right is always right
Alright?
We only come out at night

I sometimes do not know what to write. Sometimes I do know what to write but am at a lost of words to write it down.

Today is one such day. I want to write about the gratitude we should feel. But instead, I am going to write about some late night visitors. By the way, have you ever wondered why people only encounter ghosts or restless spirits at night? Have you come across someone who encountered a ghost during day time?

I have not and my stories are all night time stories as well. Some are true and some are fictional, the following is a true story, or kisah benar as we would say it in Malaysia. So here goes, my story about some visitors at night.

"Thong tong tong,” someone knocked on the door and jolted Neil up from his slumbering sleep. He looked at the clock on the Astro decoder, it was ten past one in the morning.

He had just returned from his afternoon shift in Texas Instrument where he was working as a supervisor. He did not like the rotating shift work especially the afternoon shift which started at 3 and ended at 11 and with all the paper work  he had to do, he was rarely back by midnight.
He lived on the fourth floor of the walk up flats in Taman Kosas which he had rented when he started working in Texas Instruments. It was cheap and it was bare and sometimes the walk up and down the stairs was the only exercise he ever got.
It had been a long day and he had barely got to sleep before the loud knocks on his apartment’s heavy wooden fire door.
He had no peephole, so he yelled out, “Who is that?” wondering who would visit him at that God forsaken hour.
No reply from the other side. He yelled again while looking below the door in the tiny gap to see if there were any feet. There was no sight of feet or shadows. He heard some footsteps and then there was silence.
It was nearly 3am when Neil finally fell asleep again. Then he was awoken again by some loud music at 4:30.
He got up, looked out from his balcony to try to source where the loud music was from and noticed a guy in the school canteen across the road from him flats. The guy was flipping roti canai while listening to loud Tamil music from his boom box.
Neil shouted from his balcony, “Oi, diam lah, orang tengah tidor sini.” Of course nothing was heard through all the noise and Neil was just too tired and lazy to walk down the four flights of stairs. So, he stuffed some cotton into his ears, covered his face with a pillow and went to sleep.
That was not the end of the story.
“Thong tong tong,” someone knocked on the door and jolted Neil up from his slumbering sleep. He looked at the clock on the Astro decoder, it was twenty past one in the morning. Was this a dream, did this not happen yesterday.
Again, he went to the door and shouted, “Siapa tu, hantu kah?”
Again there was no reply. Again no shadows or feet under the gap at the bottom of the door.
After a few minutes which seemed like eternity, Neil took a rolled up paper and opened the door, but there was nobody there.
This really spooked Neil and he could barely sleep.
When the roti canai maker came across the street to prepare his roti canai with his loud Tamil music, Neil was wide awake. The Tamil songs, although giving him a headache, were a distraction from the spookiness.
The next morning, he quickly goes to the locksmith that is in one of the shop lots near his flats and ask the locksmith to install a peephole.
Then he calls his mom. He explains what has occurred in the past few days and asks his mom for advice.
“You’ve not been saying your mantra at night and in the morning have you? You need to pray daily. Just say your mantra. Go to temple if can and try not to pass by any graveyards on your way back home.”
“But Maa, I have no choice, there are graveyards everywhere, I have to pass them to come home from the factory.”
“Then go to temple. And for crying out loud, wash your feet before you enter the house. This will wash away any evil spirits that have come along with you.”
Neil wondered how he was going to wash his feet on the fourth floor outside his apartment. There were no taps outside or on the ground floor.
At work, he told the story to a few of his operators and asked for their advice, most of them chimed the same advice as the mother. Wash your feet. Go to temple. Some suggested go see a bomoh.
“Thong tong tong,” someone knocked on the door and jolted Neil up from his slumbering sleep. He looked at the clock on the Astro decoder, it was half past one in the morning. Three days in a row.
Again, he went to the door and shouted, “Who is that? Why are you coming here at this hour? I have nothing for you, please go away.”
Again there was no reply. Again no shadows or feet under the gap at the bottom of the door. He looked through the peephole and there was nothing. He opened the door and nobody was there.
He was really spooked now. He went to the 7-Eleven around the corner, bought some cashew nuts, peanuts and beer and just sat up watching re-runs on Astro.
Again at 4:30, like clockwork, the roti canai man started his racket.
The next day, Neil decides to put a baldi full of water outside his flat and he goes to work and inquires about some bomoh’s in that area. Nobody seemed to know a bomoh but knew a cousin third removed or my mother’s cousins sister in law or someone who went to one. But personally, nobody knew a bomoh in the area which he found to be a lie considering he was in Keramat area of Ampang/Ulu Kelang.
During his dinner break at 7, he went to the Raja Rajeshwari temple in Ulu Kelang and spoke to a priest who could barely speak much Malay or English. Neil was not a Tamil and could not communicate well. The priest however gave him something tied on a string with a saffron yellow cloth that seemed to have something in it, apparently Sanksrit mantras to ward of any evil. He was told to wear it or keep it in the pocket.
That night, Neil went home, braver, with the temple blessings. He reached the top of the stairs and removed his shoes and socks and washed them thoroughly and wiped them with a face towel he had hung on the railings of the grill.
He was sure that thing or person will not dare come back again with all his protection. He even lit a sandalwood joystick and did his mantras.
He waited for the hour to be prepared. 1am, 1:10am, 1:20am, 1:30am, 1:40am …. Nothing.
He just nodded off around 1:50am then suddenly “Thong tong tong,” someone knocked on the door and jolted Neil up from his sleep. He looked at the clock on the Astro decoder, it was two. He had barely slept ten minutes.
He quickly went to the door, yelled, and without even bothering to look through the peephole, he opened the door suddenly.
The sudden movement shocked the intruder outside. It was a transvestite who immediately went,, “Sorry lah Abang, salah rumah.”
Neil was going berserk. “What do you mean wrong house? Have you been the one knocking on my door for the last four days? Why did you not answer me? Did you not realize it was the wrong house? Bloody hell, stupid bloody …..”
The trans apologized profusely and started walking down the steps and before Neil could say anything, vanished in thin air. Literally disappeared. Neil opened the door and went down a few steps, but the trans was nowhere in sight.
Was it a dream or a reality? Neil was wondering was the trans real or a aberration, a ghost?
He was no longer scared yet he was spooked and wondered whether he had witnessed a restless trans spirit.
While he was thinking about the occurrences of the last four days and having a nice cold Tiger beer on the balcony, he noticed the roti canai men set up his station and boom box in the school canteen. Neil was no longer in the mood for Tamil songs and immediately called the Ampang Police station and reported a disturbance of peace. The police said that their patrol car was making its rounds and they will get the patrol car to warn the guy.
As he continued drinking his beer, he saw the patrol car pull up and yell something at the roti canai man and pointed towards the row of Kosas flats that Neil lived in. The man immediately went to the boom box turned it off and came back profusely apologizing to the two policemen and pleading something. They had their summonses book out and were about to issue him a summons when Neil noticed a common exchange. Of course no summons was issued in exchange for a few red notes.
Neil smiled and went to sleep soundly and only got up at noon the next day to get ready for his last day on the afternoon shift. Peace at last, thank God almighty, Peace at last.


I hope you enjoyed the story above. It really did happen.


Take care and be well.

1 comment:

Glenda said...

Enjoyed the story. We have a ghost in our house - but he is not an evil spirit - just one that has been trapped here on earth hoping for a way out.