This is the tenth part of Lakshmi Raj Sharma's ghost story set in rural India. Please Share.
Lakshmi's collection of short stories is available on Amazon on http://www.amazon.com/Marriages-Are-Made-India-ebook/dp/B0085COD1W/ref=pd_sim_sbs_kstore_1
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THAT NIGHT (Part 10)
This statement embarrassed me and as I tried to find ways of clearing my position and my guilt, Manoj rushed down towards him and gave Pran two tight fists on his face. I tried again to separate the two, but my mind was no longer working clearly. Pran had awakened the dormant feelings that I had built up for Sonali and I had to work hard to try and prove that Pran was lying.
Pran had clearly put me on the defensive. With one statement he had thrown me out of the race. After that day I found it difficult to face Sonali. I had to forget what I had once wanted. Pran was clever indeed. Even in such a difficult moment he was managing to remove one hurdle from his path.
I somehow managed to stop Manoj and Pran from getting into a dangerous fight that day but I knew that this could not be prevented for long as both had decided that they would not give up Sonali. Sonali also began to avoid me as she already had enough men interested in her. Her trust in me had lessened after Pran revealed my feelings for her.
There seemed to be a lull before the storm for about three weeks after that. And then the storm came with all its ferocity. It was an actual storm, not merely a metaphorical one. I can never forget THAT NIGHT.
THAT NIGHT it was absolutely dark. Not an iota of the moon was visible. Gradually clouds were gathering in the sky; making layer after layer like the ranks of an army filing in one behind the other in rows to attack the enemy. It was hot and humid, with crickets trying their best to remind the clouds that they were supposed to burst forth, not only stand in a place making their fortress stronger. Some owls flew hooting and screeching from one shady branch to another to find a safer place. They seemed to provide a variation to the pitch at which the crickets sang. Now and again the odd, solitary, toad croaked and then paused lest he seemed out of place in the setting. An old woman was heard telling people on the streets to go indoors. Everything was building up to a cloudburst. Good things of daytime had hidden themselves and the night was having her day. Then gradually it became windy. The wind built up its tempo slowly but surely; it whistled, it howled and it roared. A tree was uprooted and catapulted, electricity poles unable to bear the pull of the swinging wires began to bend double in defeat, tin roofs broke up into small parts and flew all over and hit whatever they encountered. It seemed as if the world was coming to an end THAT NIGHT.
I somehow managed to stop Manoj and Pran from getting into a dangerous fight that day but I knew that this could not be prevented for long as both had decided that they would not give up Sonali. Sonali also began to avoid me as she already had enough men interested in her. Her trust in me had lessened after Pran revealed my feelings for her.
There seemed to be a lull before the storm for about three weeks after that. And then the storm came with all its ferocity. It was an actual storm, not merely a metaphorical one. I can never forget THAT NIGHT.
THAT NIGHT it was absolutely dark. Not an iota of the moon was visible. Gradually clouds were gathering in the sky; making layer after layer like the ranks of an army filing in one behind the other in rows to attack the enemy. It was hot and humid, with crickets trying their best to remind the clouds that they were supposed to burst forth, not only stand in a place making their fortress stronger. Some owls flew hooting and screeching from one shady branch to another to find a safer place. They seemed to provide a variation to the pitch at which the crickets sang. Now and again the odd, solitary, toad croaked and then paused lest he seemed out of place in the setting. An old woman was heard telling people on the streets to go indoors. Everything was building up to a cloudburst. Good things of daytime had hidden themselves and the night was having her day. Then gradually it became windy. The wind built up its tempo slowly but surely; it whistled, it howled and it roared. A tree was uprooted and catapulted, electricity poles unable to bear the pull of the swinging wires began to bend double in defeat, tin roofs broke up into small parts and flew all over and hit whatever they encountered. It seemed as if the world was coming to an end THAT NIGHT.
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