‘ The Lamp Blinked Twice’

 

|| Hari Om ||

‘ The Lamp Blinked Twice’  

“Do you believe in Ghosts ?” He looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes. “ Do you mean the ones with clanking chains and bloodstained clothes? No, definitely not.“ An open-ended reply that invited his next question:  “Is there any other kind of ghost then ?” 

They were sitting on a bench in a quiet part of the Park. The leaves of the nearby trees were rustling gently in the breeze, as a subtle twilight light bathed the surroundings in its surreal hues.

Just a few feet away, the cliff sloped off gently to the sea below. It was a place where you could just stand still, a place to pause and breathe again. 

She grinned. “ Actually, there's a story about this very park ! “ She had a dreamy look in her eyes. He braced himself as she took a deep breath to launch full-tilt into a story.

“ There’s an old street-lamp along the walking path here. Its in a very quiet part of the park, and people generally don’t go there after dark. Only very specific people go there; the ones who wish to communicate with their loved ones, with people who are no longer here. The rumour is that if you walk past that streetlight, thinking of that specific person, they appear there, not physically, but just enough to give you a sign.” She made wide eyes to emphasize the other-worldly-ness of it all. He was more amused by her story-telling antics than by the story itself. 

“ What kind of sign ? “, he asked, dutiful in his role as a listener. 

“When they appear near you, the lamp blinks twice! “, He raised a skeptical eyebrow. She looked hurt at his utter lack of appreciation.

“Come with me, I’ll show you the place.”

They got up and started walking, breathing in the scent of the evening, the sound of the waves providing a subtle music to the scene. They walked on in silence, gathering in the details, saving each moment, trying to focus on trivial things like Ghosts and flickering lights, to avoid thinking about why they were actually there.

Soon, they reached a quieter part of the park. It was probably his imagination, but the air seemed to be very still. All the birds that had been chirping so merrily were silent here, not afraid, but waiting. 

They walked on, and as they rounded the last corner, he saw an old, rusty swing, lit in the orange light of a single old-fashioned gas lamp.

There was definitely something different here, something that brought out strange feelings, nostalgia and longing, as if the past and the present were yearning to meet, separated by only a thin veil of light.

They stood there in silence, would have stood there for God-knows how long. Suddenly, the lamp blinked twice. She looked worried now, he could see it. He felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine too. “ Did you call out to someone ?”, he asked. “No,“ she said, positively frightened now.

“ Why did you ask me that  ? “

“Because,” he paused and pointed a trembling finger over her shoulder: “There’s something behind you !

She turned and saw something large and white move right before her eyes.

She screamed her lungs out and burst into tears.

He, on the other hand, couldn’t control his laughter. The “Ghost” was just a fluffy white cat, sitting largely unconcerned by the world, atop its throne on a fence.

She saw his smile and burst out laughing too. They walked away from the “magic” lamp and back to their peaceful, non-haunted bench.

He thought for a moment and said, serious this time  “If ghosts are just supposed to be the energies of people who have moved on, why is it that they are supposed to be tied to places and things? I think they would be more attached to people”

“ Friends and family, the people we love, I’m sure a part of them is always attached to us, wherever we are. I’m not talking about the dead, but about actual living people. The memories of the time we spend together are enough to call out to each other's souls, even when we are miles apart. Some people don’t need to be there, to be there ! “   

“Aren’t you philosophical today” she laughed, but he could see in her eyes that she knew what he meant. He closed his eyes, at peace in her presence.

When he opened his eyes. She was gone.

He could almost see the after-image of her smile, of her silhouette sitting next to him. 

He shook himself back to the present, a different evening, a different season.

It had been more than a year, but the memory was still crystal clear.

That last evening, before all of them went their separate ways. Friends, from different places, with different pasts and different futures, converging for the briefest of moments before their paths branched out again.

Friends, colleagues, a temporary family, each of them with so many different colours to them.

And each had left a lasting imprint on his mind, none more so than her.

He got up and stretched. He started walking, completing a well-practised ritual, down a path that he had walked a 100 times now. 

He reached the old swing, with “that” lamp, feeling the warm glow inside of the people he carried within. “Some people don’t need to be there, to be there” He stood there in silence, waiting…

A 100 miles away, in another part of the world, in another park, she stood near an old street lamp. 

And as the memories flooded her mind, she looked at the lamp, calling out to those she had left behind, with all her heart,

…. and the lamp blinked twice

…. and the lamp blinked twice

“So when I smile

for no reason or rhyme

I know I’m in your thoughts

as you are in mine”

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This story is a work of fiction, however, it is as much the truth. Each of us have people in our lives that matter so much to us, that we carry them in our hearts. Particularly since the start of the pandemic, we have faced the cold reality of isolation and loss like never before. In these times, it is the warmth of our memories, our friends, our families that gives us the strength to keep going. 

And even when it may feel that you are alone and all is lost,  

Have Faith in Him. He is always with you, even without you calling out to Him.

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|| Shree Ram ||

|| Ambadnya ||

|| Naathsanvidh ||

-Dr. Arnav H. Tongaonkar

17/4/2021