A Halloween to remember

Rise dear ones,

For I now have a story to tell my grand kids. And oh! what a story it would be. On a cold winter night, the kiddos on the floor, a few lying down and another few sitting up right (inherited from their Grandpa Mr. Upsi, whom I have never seen lying lazily on a floor) near the fire place, me on a wooden rocking chair that creaks every now and then. A warm cozy place it would be. I might even add in a few tidbits to keep the story sizzling. But for now, for you my three readers, I present the actual facts. Fiction down the drain.

So last night, the night before Halloween, I felt bloated (too much of pooran poli or methu vada, I couldn't' tell) and nothing, nothing but a jog, could ease my bloated self. It has nothing to do with watching too much Julia Roberts/Sandra Bullock/Renee Zellweger flicks, where the heroine runs a mile or two, to clear her heart and mind of life's brutality. They come back, sweating and take a warm shower and the next scene you know, they are as warm spirited as a cup of warm cider on a cold winter night. My wanting to jog had nothing to do with it of course. (yes, we have netflix account and movies come and go, like the milkman of yesteryear's).

At this point, I would like to let the readers know that it has been quite a while since I jogged and quite a very long while since I had had a night jog. Mr. Upsi gnawed at my decision, but by now, he has accepted the eccentricities of his lovely wife. Ha, the sweet travails of couple hood!

The little one was fast asleep by now. I changed to my jogging out fit (which is nothing but track pants, white Tee and sneakers. Not that you are interested in my attire, but a story needs to be wholesome). Opened the front door and a cold gust of wind swept my face. It is October, for Lord's sake and no sane person jogs at 8:30 pm on a cold October night. When I was little, I wanted to prove to the world that I was different. And then I grew up. Didn't know whom in the world I should be proving to and what for. But sometimes the streaks of childhood surfaces like flotsam. And last night, maybe, I thought jogging at night would prove something. Its either that or I need to shed my insanity once in a while to keep my sanity.

So anyways, reminding myself of a determined bull ready to knock the rodeo off, I braved the cold and started warming up. Then slowly gathered pace and momentum. Before I knew it, I was running six miles an hour, along the dark alley ways and down the path. The trees loomed larger than life, the clouds dark and gloomy, evoking a tangible sense of danger. The kind of night where one is sure that the battle between orcs and beasties are in full swing in the sky. Or as if Hogwarts school is in full frenzy (now that Dumbledore is so popular).

Everything around me was eerie and creepily quiet. Not a single soul around. But only evil spirits hanging out, grueling Horcruxes and having a vile ball of a party.Thoughts of ghosts, specially of a desi kind, white saree clad and feet a foot away from the ground and long hair, crossed my mind. I keep my desi roots, you see, even when it comes to deathly hallows.

But I kept the pace. One brave woman, I was.

And right then, when I was about to take the bend, I saw the silhouette of a brooding figure, holding on to a dog. The figure half seated on the lawn that joins the pathway. An illusion, perhaps? But a nanosecond later, I knew this was for real. Right there, I was going to be battered blue and dead. Racing pulse, pounding heart. I let out a loud 'help'. Nothing came out at first, but a faint shortness of breath. And then, on top of my voice, gushing with all force and might, and with a thick mallu accent, I shouted 'yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeellllppppp'. I never knew that would be the first word one would let out when face to face with death eaters. Not an 'AAAAAAAAAaaaa" or "Ammmmmmmaaaa". But an "yeeeelp"!!

The figure leapt out. It was a she with a dog (didn't stay longer to find the gender of the dog, you story-poopers!) The lady apologized 'oh I saw you coming and didn't want to scare the hell out of you. My dog was a little nervous". Or something to that effect. I couldn't clearly hear her, forI was still running.....running for my life....away from her. The dog was howling, and I muttered a 'sorrryy.....I afraid of dogs'. Liar. As if it was just the dog I was afraid of. I ran home like there was no tomorrow.

Stammered for a second on how to narrate this whole escapade with Mr. Upsi and Grandmom. "You know what happened", panted a slightly shocked me.
"what? chased by a ghost or a dog?", asked Mr. Upsi, eyes still fixed on the football game. Faint sound of Grandma's laugh heard on the background.

Second thoughts on Mr. Upsi having an office affair with a blonde and having me out of the way, through this attack? Did he hike up my insurance premium? (Here, I blame the netflix movie over dose.)

"Ok..this is what happened", and I narrated the works.

A slow evil smile dawned on Mr. Upsi and I said "ayayyay.....happy spooky Halloween. I was kidding. LOL, you believed me, didn't you? Jee. HOHAHA."

Grandma looked skeptical. To believe or not, that was her question.
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Now - Ini, Mini, Miney, Moo (names of my grandkids)-- tell me, did Grandma make up this story?