Skip to main content

A Ghost Is A Wish

A few days ago, I was watching The Haunting Of Hill House and one of the characters in it said that a ghost is a wish. I thought it was bullshit back then because it was not only irrelevant but also insanely insensible and stupid. It was like comparing two oddly dissimilar things together, things where a comparison is not just highly unlikely but also highly absurd. How can a ghost be a wish? What kind of wish is it? Is it fulfilled or unfulfilled? But then, how would a fulfilled wish still be called a wish? A week later into a strange mourning, I understand better. I realize how less dramatic Life is compared to all those daily soaps we grew up watching which dramatized pain beyond feasibility, use recurring characters, doppelgangers or amnesia to dress up Death as a break from the monotonicity of Life, like one week of a vacation. But Death is everything but a vacation. It's a surprise (shocking) one way trip to oblivion; something one can't forget or escape or procrastinate . 
People believe in an ever expanding Universe but recent studies have taken a foot ahead to develop theories that suggest that there are multiple universes which in turn mean that we are just the tiniest of tiny part of an unfathomable Universe which belongs to the family of multiple universes. The greatest realisation of life is the art of letting go but the worst helplessness is when there is no time given for a proper goodbye. It is like knowing two distinct resting faces but not knowing what sets them apart. It's failing to observe or discern that singular condition that causes the change in phase. Death is like that connection and when you miss the death, that link is broken forever and there is nothing in this world that can bring back the time so that you can have just enough moments to say a proper goodbye. However, that's not possible because Death is a One Way Ticket, a Leap of Faith on a stranger.  Even if you take the leap knowing you can't jump Back To Life whenever you want to, you can never be sure of saying that pending goodbye. 
Incomplete things keep people on their toes. It's never the finished tasks that make people happy but the ones unticked on their lists that keep them on their toes and they would do anything to dissolve but knot in the stomach. All the beliefs and the rituals that we have are nothing but an  everyday reminder to our gross inability to let go or to accept the harsh reality. Naturally, we have to find something to hold on to. For some, its the belief in Afterlife: the belief that life continues in some other dimension even when it ends in this one we are living in. This is where the concept of hell and heaven dives in. It's a satisfaction to the soul that the person gone is not really gone. He exists somewhere else even if we can't see him or hear him or touch him or even smell him anymore. Some others believe in a lagging Universe. If there are infinite Universes in this wide multiverse that we live in and half of these infinite ones lag behind the one we live in, it is entirely possible that the replicas of humans dying and saying goodbye there, with the knowledge they have now would choose differently and perhaps have their moments of goodbye. For the last few, the idea of a ghost emerges and starts getting more prominent. Because anything would mean better than nothing. Any sort of continuity would be lighter than the heaviness of the void inside. Therefore, a ghost is a wish, a wish made by people who are not gone, who stay behind to bear the pain of those are gone on the voyage, ever trying to fill up the gap they have created, ever failing. A ghost is a wish to say that unsaid goodbye, to see life for one last time, to bargain that time back which Fact knows is gone forever. A ghost is a wish to tell the departed that he was loved and he will be missed and that the void that he has created on his way out shall stay empty, for eternity's sake. And with all the fortune in this world, a ghost is WA wish to revive a fallen time which can never ever be recovered again



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Imaginary Conversations with You

I went by your house last night again. It become a habit now passing by your place, drunk. Like it's some typical Bollywood movie. only it's not because I know what I am doing. I am in control and I'll never lose it. I looked up the window I used to always look up at. I saw me. Sixteen year old me. Patiently looking down from your window. There was a calm in her I know wasn't in her when I was sixteen. My breath grew shallow and paced up. There isn't anything the same in the both of us. You were right. I camouflage really easily and before I could know, I became this person. I think I gave in to the lifestyle; the parties booze and boys caught up to me and it's okay. I am not complaining. I won't say that that I detest the woman I have become. I absolutely do not think I should have been the way I was when I met you; fragile and easy to love. I don't want to be easy.  I don't want to love the way I loved you, like a traveller in a desert loves a mira...

A Face in The Dark: An Alternate Ending

Mr Oliver, an Anglo-Indian teacher, was returning to his school late one night on the outskirts of the hill station of Shimla. The school was conducted on English public school lines and the boys - most of them from well-to-do Indian families - wore blazers, caps and ties. "Life" magazine, in a feature on India, had once called this school the Eton of the East . Mr Oliver had been teaching in this school for several years. He's no longer there. The Shimla Bazaar, with its cinemas and restaurants, was about two miles from the school; and Mr Oliver, a bachelor, usually strolled into the town in the evening returning after dark, when he would take a short cut through a pine forest. When there was a strong wind, the pine trees made sad, eerie sounds that kept most people to the main road. But Mr Oliver was not a nervous or imaginative man. He carried a torch - and on the night I write of, its pale gleam, the batteries were running down - moved fitfully over the narrow for...

MeToo

Fear not. Luckily, I am not one of the girls who’s been thoroughly victimized by a man and this is not a post to draw attention to my woes. Rather, this is to turn eyes and educate minds on what MeToo was actually started for and how its meaning has been vehemently bargained in the last one year. Before getting right into the evolution of the movement, I would like to divulge a few details about the actual roots of this movement because in the recent developments related to the movement and the kind of movements I see Metoo ushered into, I feel there is a tremendous need to educate the masses, boys and girls alike to know the actual meaning of the movement before opening their blabbering lips and muttering bombastic words out aloud. The initiation of this umungous movement was officially on Oct 5, 2017 when reporters Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey pressed charges of sexual misconduct against Harvey Weinstein, the executive producer blaming him of harassment and paying out eight settleme...