I was midway into a R rated activity on my plush bed, when I got this call asking me to come out of my house. What’s it with bachelors and their wee hour woes. These two friends of my mine were parked outside my flat’s gate threatening to step in, on the slightest hint of protest to their madness. I tiptoed my way out to the car and off the night took off!
These collaterals from unprotected sex dating a quarter century back were driving me to De Monte Colony at quarter to 3.00. For the uninitiated, De Monte Colony is one of the most haunted places in Chennai and 3.00 AM is regarded as time of devil widely. This is the thing with men,they would want to go on a date individually. But these types of activities seldom happen without bonhomie.
“What are we going to do incase the rendezvous with the spirit happened? And I don’t think disturbed spirits are that gregarious, to have a pep talk about the other side with us. We don’t have a fucking back up plan dudes”,I screamed.
“Chill dude,just go with the flow”, the reply comes in chorus.
We were there before the red flagged house of De Monte colony. This one had turned from a residential structure to a monument of fear,looking down at us through the veil of wild vegetation with an air of mockery at our misplaced chivalry.
We jumped into the property, with the nervousness of a fish to its bait. It was a collage of horror movie tropes with broken doors, creeking windows, cobwebs, wooden flooring reverberating footsteps across the house.
Idle mind is devil’s workshop, but here we were at the devil’s workshop with idle minds. Talk about taking figurative to a whole new literal level!
We were moving together as a group to every nook and corner, as we were pretty aware about the fate of wanderers from ghost movies. After scurrying up the stairs and opening a few shelves, I managed to convince the guys about the impotency of the place. And they came to a compromise with a selfie by the doorway.Yes, the sore thumb of narcissism sticks its head out at the most uncanny places.
I was relieved that I was returning in a piece, when these two miscreants startled me with our itinerary.A cemetery in the vicinity was the next stop. I was so tired to even reason with them, that I decided to embark on this virtuous quest meekly snuggled in the back seat.
Funny how civilized men derive adrenalin gush out of annoying dead people rolling peacefully in their earmarked graves,lusting to turn into a valuable mineral some day to adorn a successor’s neck as jewellery.
Blame it on James Wan for making Conjuring, that suddenly made paranormal look accessible and ghost hunting cool..
Fortune favours the brave they said. They couldn’t be more right. We couldn’t get inside the cemetery as its perimeters were adorned by beats cops.I was relieved that we weren’t going to take inventory of dead people.Also, by then dawn was about to break and we were worn out,but redemption was around the corner.
South Indians have this fallacy, that most of the bad things which happens to a man like bankruptcy,balding and break-up happen because of an empty stomach.So we went to Ratna Cafe,one among the prominent restaurants founded strongly on this fallacy as the Sun woke up a little earlier than usual.
But have to agree that nothing cheers a South Indian like a mug of piping hot sambar scathing through the tender fabric of freshly baked idlis does.Given our relentless tryst a while back, it could be called-“baptism by idlis”
The morning was tantalising with saffron clad sky,boisterous birds chirping symphonies and dew drop clad virgin leaves But sometimes all isn’t well that ends well. As just when we were about to leave,these two imbeciles came to a conclusion that every time we took this paranormal pilgrimage,it must end with a breakfast at Ratna Cafe.Phew!