The sound of lightening and lashing rain against the window panes woke me up from a deep slumber. Frightened out of my wits, I peered out of the solitary window. The branches of the tree outside swung from side to side in the strong winds of the storm, playing hide and seek in the dark shadows of the night and creating the weird illusion of an eerie dance. 

Barely eight-years-old at that time, I was petrified at not finding my mother beside me in the darkness. I longed for her protective arms around me. Creeping out of bed in search of her, I found her dozing uncomfortably on an easy chair next to my ailing and bedridden aunt’s bed.

The dim light emanating from the solitary bulb from a corner of the ceiling fell on her shrivelled, ashen and parched face. It was indeed a traumatic sight which sent shivers down my spine. A grim atmosphere prevailed in the house as Masi’s condition deteriorated each passing day. Family and friends felt distressed seeing her pain, suffering and misery.

Hearing my footsteps, my mother woke up and cautioned me to be silent lest Masi got disturbed. I lost no time in snuggling close to her. With the warmth and comfort of her arms around me, I soon dozed off. We woke up suddenly on hearing sounds of conversation. In the faint light of the room, we were surprised to see Masi, her head raised from the pillow, a broad smile on her face, apparently beckoning to someone to come and sit next to her. The facial expressions on her face were one of extreme happiness and excitement, in stark contrast to those of a severely ailing person.

Midnight visitors

Calling out to my mother she said, “Sarla, bring them lassi. Tired and thirsty, they have travelled a long distance to see me.” Looking towards the door, my mother walked up to my aunt’s bed. Resting her sister’s head back on the pillow, and pulling the blanket over her, my mother asked her gently, “There is no one here. Whom were you talking to? Who wants lassi?”

In an excited voice, my Masi replied, “Can’t you see Ma and Baba are here? I am so happy to see them so many years after their death”. She continued without a pause, “They will come again after two days to take me with them”. Tired and exhausted with the effort of speaking, my mother’s pacifying and caring touch helped her to gradually drift into deep sleep. 

The previous night’s strange occurrence had not left any tell-tale signs on Masi. Neither did she have any recollection of it. Somewhat disturbed by the unusual incident, my mother however, narrated it to other family members. Some passed it off lightly, some said it was the effect of too many drugs, while others called it a hallucination. 

But reality came to the forefront exactly two days later, when dawn broke with the wailing sounds of a dog, the harbinger of death. A pall of gloom fell on the household, as Masi passed away peacefully in her sleep in the wee hours of the morning.