tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70685066141580870812024-03-05T16:08:05.053-08:00SLIPKNOTRahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-33260762255885146472023-10-30T11:30:00.002-07:002023-10-31T18:39:09.662-07:00The Pathology Lab<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigK0XL81wYe-fQcYcevP5rX7RCQW8GDXf5QFrv3Lq6T8LZeKoasCmlb9Z1ruJwXLHGIMkhpqBxJiIAje-2tuwHd1LjePdTn2zRfBtXaeUzkj_4gQk-2uBBbhbfHcP__MTkz7zKOytS5AzgvtpdpM_qylG6MDFOLFxODKqjdML5yOSHhIzyoYQKPopRQ39w/s1024/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigK0XL81wYe-fQcYcevP5rX7RCQW8GDXf5QFrv3Lq6T8LZeKoasCmlb9Z1ruJwXLHGIMkhpqBxJiIAje-2tuwHd1LjePdTn2zRfBtXaeUzkj_4gQk-2uBBbhbfHcP__MTkz7zKOytS5AzgvtpdpM_qylG6MDFOLFxODKqjdML5yOSHhIzyoYQKPopRQ39w/w640-h640/1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
pathology lab was quiet and still, save for the occasional hum of a machine or
the clink of glass. The technicians worked diligently, examining tissue samples
and slides, searching for any signs of disease.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One
night, a young technician named Sarah was working late. She was the only one in
the lab, and she was starting to feel uneasy. The shadows seemed to dance on
the walls, and the sterile air felt oppressive.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sarah
tried to focus on her work, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was
being watched. She turned around and saw that the door to the cold storage room
was slightly ajar. Sarah hadn't opened it, and she was sure she had closed it
properly before she started working.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sarah's
heart began to race. She slowly approached the door and peered inside. The cold
storage room was dark and eerie. Sarah could see rows of metal cabinets, each
one filled with drawers containing tissue samples and body parts.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sarah
hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and stepped into the room. The
door closed behind her with a soft click. Sarah fumbled for the light switch,
but it was nowhere to be found. She was plunged into darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sarah
stood there for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear her
own breathing, loud in the silence. Then, she heard something else. A faint
scratching sound.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sarah
froze. The scratching sound came again, closer this time. Sarah could hear it
coming from one of the cabinets. She slowly backed away, her eyes wide with
fear.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
scratching sound got louder and louder. Sarah could feel the hairs on the back
of her neck standing on end. She turned and ran, her footsteps echoing in the
darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sarah
reached the door and fumbled for the handle. She couldn't get it open. She
tried again, harder this time. The handle wouldn't budge.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sarah
was trapped. She pounded on the door, screaming for help. But there was no one
to hear her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
scratching sound was getting closer and closer. Sarah could feel it on her leg
now. She looked down and saw a pale, bony hand emerging from the darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sarah
screamed again, but it was too late. The hand grabbed her leg and pulled her
towards the cabinet. Sarah struggled to break free, but the hand was too
strong.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sarah
was dragged into the cabinet, her screams muffled by the darkness. The door slammed
shut behind her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
next morning, Sarah's colleagues arrived to find the lab empty. The door to the
cold storage room was still slightly ajar, but Sarah was nowhere to be found.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
police searched the lab and the surrounding area, but they couldn't find any
trace of Sarah. She had simply disappeared.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Some
say that Sarah's ghost still haunts the pathology lab. On dark nights, you can
hear her screams echoing through the empty corridors. And if you're unlucky
enough to be trapped in the cold storage room, you might feel a cold, bony hand
grab your leg and pull you into the darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 18.0pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 18.0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwgTAFza4yvwM3M5SwOkvnHDfELNpwWfy0nqz7UbTEMoCwu4YRFhkF-jTClV4KprJ-mb5vSZSn_s4Fqt1IHxQp_NgpUW6g3Mzx22FyEH12Sn26OFCl4iLRNgVN8yHDuWJgOfuWkj-VJ2bCtrOnpOjN1xhBxGrYiEQnBniq557UvnRdBXOTObEBHqkdfJdV/s1024/h1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwgTAFza4yvwM3M5SwOkvnHDfELNpwWfy0nqz7UbTEMoCwu4YRFhkF-jTClV4KprJ-mb5vSZSn_s4Fqt1IHxQp_NgpUW6g3Mzx22FyEH12Sn26OFCl4iLRNgVN8yHDuWJgOfuWkj-VJ2bCtrOnpOjN1xhBxGrYiEQnBniq557UvnRdBXOTObEBHqkdfJdV/w400-h400/h1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span><p></p>Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-75725685312108059152023-10-24T17:17:00.001-07:002023-10-24T17:17:50.600-07:00Star behind the dark clouds<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqL4Sf54tg53U3ouRAJKvI7Uz-BHTUYif4BgOTw1bgAmGXLHQqz6RClrZVederSXm9nig7K-a-Gm56jxIhuUpgI5q8Lx0pn3Rt9S_B4Lw3fLYSpCza5FbQ26zKCpQvmXxihbxAANWBa6sAV1tM1-q1Za45f22jg7CJXSZS77wluTBDeED2_5XCVge3Lh2/s1024/neon%20demon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqL4Sf54tg53U3ouRAJKvI7Uz-BHTUYif4BgOTw1bgAmGXLHQqz6RClrZVederSXm9nig7K-a-Gm56jxIhuUpgI5q8Lx0pn3Rt9S_B4Lw3fLYSpCza5FbQ26zKCpQvmXxihbxAANWBa6sAV1tM1-q1Za45f22jg7CJXSZS77wluTBDeED2_5XCVge3Lh2/w640-h640/neon%20demon.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">James, a diligent young man, dedicated himself to his
studies with fervor. He aspired to embark on a career in an advertising agency,
the prospect of crafting adverts that would captivate the world's imagination a
beacon of hope on his horizon. His heart belonged to his art, the canvas his
sanctuary, and the palette his voice.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the intricate tapestry of his life, he encountered a
pivotal character—Sarah, a woman whose charm ensnared his affections. Their
love bloomed over the span of six idyllic months, a season marked by shared
dreams and whispered promises. However, with the inexorable passage of time,
Sarah's ardor waned. She found James, once captivating, had become somewhat
banal, and in search of a new audience, she ventured into another's embrace.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">For James, the loss was a crushing blow. In the silent
darkness of his anguish, he withdrew from the world. He seldom ventured beyond
the confines of his solitude, immersing himself wholly in his art. He continued
his studies diligently, earning high marks, but the shadow of his isolation was
unnoticed by the oblivious eyes that passed him by.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">As weeks turned to months, a sinister metamorphosis unfurled
within his fragile psyche. Whispers, eerie and sibilant, invaded the sanctum of
his thoughts. These voices, like malevolent specters, urged him to channel his
anguish onto the canvas, compelling him to give life to grotesque depictions of
demons and devils. The murmurings grew more insistent, commanding him to
inflict harm upon himself, like a self-inflicted penance for his inner torment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fearing for their son's deteriorating mental state, James's
parents intervened, leading him into the austere office of a psychiatrist. The
diagnosis was bleak, and the prescription was a sojourn within the walls of a
mental ward, a place where he might receive the care he so desperately
required. James, bewildered and frightened, found it difficult to grasp the
gravity of his situation. Meanwhile, the voices continued to torment him, a
chorus of torment urging him toward self-destruction. In a moment of chilling
resolve, he slashed a knife across his own throat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Transported to the Intensive Care Unit, James lay on the
precipice between life and death. While the physical wounds gradually healed,
the scars on his fragile psyche ran deeper than any blade could reach. Even in
the sterile environment of the hospital, his fingers clutched a brush, and his
paintings continued to emerge, distorted visions that manifested his tormented
soul.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Eventually, he was relocated to a long-term care facility
nestled in the countryside, where he found solace in the unending strokes of
his artistry. He clung to the dream of a career in advertising, even as the
world raced ahead without him, indifferent to his aspirations.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">In this detached existence, his parents remained a constant,
visiting their son every few months, their hearts heavy with the burden of
witnessing his tormented journey. James's connection with reality had grown
tenuous, like a fragile thread ready to snap.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The life of James serves as a somber reminder of the
fragility of the human mind, a stark cautionary tale. As you mark the
milestones in your own life, cherish your loved ones, and celebrate the bonds
that keep you tethered to the world of the sane, remember the tragic narrative
of James. In the labyrinthine chambers of the mind, there exist shadows capable
of eclipsing even the most brilliant of dreams, leaving behind only a hollow
echo of what once was.</span></p><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuTwEzsCDpb29HzQKKZsvlgsIvYyRKcdExUIWWchNfxewmq9nlTK1nfPu4cdkgA-qJpj9BPgUPVD8SxXoKZkRxhH9MUXfpDUV4tdM9FWYdygh1Anj2xn-jYnAdrjUuAbWiZfum1RTeLOXisrfIdOFT-MLeQd1tAZ21Ne-9oo-ZJICsRGj-CLSOEkJdo0jg/s1024/boy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuTwEzsCDpb29HzQKKZsvlgsIvYyRKcdExUIWWchNfxewmq9nlTK1nfPu4cdkgA-qJpj9BPgUPVD8SxXoKZkRxhH9MUXfpDUV4tdM9FWYdygh1Anj2xn-jYnAdrjUuAbWiZfum1RTeLOXisrfIdOFT-MLeQd1tAZ21Ne-9oo-ZJICsRGj-CLSOEkJdo0jg/w640-h640/boy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-61706189434474945702023-09-23T16:54:00.004-07:002023-10-24T19:54:55.973-07:00Surgical theater<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6liscL0nDd8IhnWM45UwvOhfiWhCnBGy7H3-r4schj_3E_ikv1BuhgrNgtvVmW0k27HBijrf7PrEWhjwkLIaifpg0pyjDEgZwIDFgygpQp3b4FBRnwPfo6OtuNKyFE6gxwD4yV1Rq_Uyvf2yty-xXyeJH7tz7bvyBGl_pRUF4Lc3CSPr0088xX87Zjle/s1024/ss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6liscL0nDd8IhnWM45UwvOhfiWhCnBGy7H3-r4schj_3E_ikv1BuhgrNgtvVmW0k27HBijrf7PrEWhjwkLIaifpg0pyjDEgZwIDFgygpQp3b4FBRnwPfo6OtuNKyFE6gxwD4yV1Rq_Uyvf2yty-xXyeJH7tz7bvyBGl_pRUF4Lc3CSPr0088xX87Zjle/w640-h640/ss.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">My apprehension gnawed at me like a ravenous beast as I
prepared to undergo my first surgery. What intensified the dread was the stark
absence of my beloved grandmother, who was relegated to a lonesome vigil on the
frigid hospital's edge. As I awaited my fate, cloaked in a sterile gown, I
strained to quell my anxieties.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The kind nurse had soothingly assured me that a
tonsillectomy was a trifling matter, a routine procedure performed countless
times with an air of simplicity. The words were a frail lifeline in the storm
of my trepidation. Guided by the nurse's words, I embarked on the journey that
would soon plunge me into an abyss of terror.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">They wheeled me into the surgical theater, the lights above
casting a cold, unfeeling glow. The anesthesiologist loomed over me, his
demeanor reassuring, but his presence added to the disquiet that gnawed at the
edges of my consciousness. He placed the gas mask over my nose and mouth,
instructing me to count backwards from ten and to inhale deeply, with a warning
that the gas might conjure odd visions and thoughts.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I obliged, the world around me dissolving into a
disorienting haze. The masked figures in the room wore eerie, unsettling
smiles, their expressions meant to provide solace but instead resembling
sinister grins. Their surgical masks dangled beneath their chins, revealing the
ominous, leering countenances beneath.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">And then, in the throes of my stupor, my gaze landed upon a
surreal, nightmarish vision. The surgical instruments, once objects of sterile
precision, had transmuted into grotesque cutlery. Scalpels resembled gleaming
butcher knives, and forceps took on the semblance of cruel, serrated forks.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">As my consciousness waned, the grotesque transformation of
the operating tools left an indelible mark on my psyche. The world dissolved
into a turbulent abyss of confusion, and my mind became a realm of bizarre
hallucinations. The last vestiges of my awareness succumbed to a dark,
inescapable descent.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">My ordeal began in a surgical theater, but the path that
unfolded took me into realms of horror and madness, where the line between
reality and nightmare blurred. The smiling faces of those who were meant to
reassure became macabre masks concealing a dreadful truth—the ordeal had only
just begun.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhhS4oY6lUpCkGWGM1Bs1pv8caYEC8DfL9PtGyfJFdWlyp38z2XEMT3Ox20D3saeOiKi7JHxX8XAPWgtLx2uQECJ01t4uErST4Cxu5HbAccVmkGo01eQ6tIKIizADgaPd8glFytwSEY8oKaGn1QWsZPhh-0wjPaK1ROvywi3rFgJm6jMnwC2ZqCg7gzhk/s1024/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhhS4oY6lUpCkGWGM1Bs1pv8caYEC8DfL9PtGyfJFdWlyp38z2XEMT3Ox20D3saeOiKi7JHxX8XAPWgtLx2uQECJ01t4uErST4Cxu5HbAccVmkGo01eQ6tIKIizADgaPd8glFytwSEY8oKaGn1QWsZPhh-0wjPaK1ROvywi3rFgJm6jMnwC2ZqCg7gzhk/w640-h640/image.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><p></p>Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-86271125869750627572019-10-01T10:49:00.003-07:002023-10-24T18:52:49.235-07:00Secrets of the Underground<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
<p class="MsoNormal">I awoke in a pitch-black room, disoriented and groggy. The floor
beneath me was damp, and I lay there, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the
complete absence of light. There were no windows, no sources of illumination to
guide me. As I tried to sit up, I was abruptly stopped by a solid barrier
above, causing me to smack my head against the confining surface. A feeling of
panic welled up as I moved my arms, encountering nothing but the same dampness.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Desperation led me to attempt moving my feet, wiggling my
toes, and bending my knees until they met the unyielding ceiling. I reached up,
searching for any opening, but my hands met only empty air.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Struggling, I attempted to shift my position, trying to scoot
backward, but the space was so constricted that my efforts quickly proved
futile. My mind raced with questions, one of which was how much precious oxygen
I had left in this cramped enclosure.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Finally, I managed to roll onto my stomach, though the darkness
persisted, and there was still no sound to be heard. I cautiously explored my
surroundings. On my left, I encountered a smooth, damp wall, while on my right,
my hand brushed against an object. It felt like a bone – smooth and cold to the
touch, with tiny, irregular bumps in some places. It was roughly the length of
my hand.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the oppressive darkness, something suddenly stirred. I
strained to listen, and my heart pounded as I heard a faint scraping sound –
slow and soft. My breath caught, as I was unsure if my mind was playing tricks
on me. Then, I heard it again, confirming that there was indeed something in
the confined space with me. The sound was not like a slithering creature but
more akin to a soft object being dragged across the floor.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Determined to escape, I inched forward, my hands
outstretched above my head to guide me. The texture of the ground beneath me
began to change, no longer flat but sloping upwards. I pressed onward, the
strange noises growing closer. There had to be a way out, I told myself, as I
dared to hope.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">With a concerted effort, I managed to lift myself into a
crouching position. I reached my arms above my head, anticipating more space or
an exit, but my hands met only empty air again. Panic and frustration gnawed at
me as I realized there was nowhere left to go. A breeze wafted down from above,
and I looked up to discover a small hole emitting a feeble, grayish light.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I cried out for help, my voice raspy and hoarse, but my
pleas were met with silence. My calls persisted, growing more desperate, and
the thing behind me began to quicken its approach. No longer moving slowly and
softly, it now scampered toward me with an unsettling intensity. Its breath
grew louder and more erratic, and I could smell its putrid stench.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In my frantic state, I pounded on the walls, screaming for
assistance. Dust rained down over me, and the sounds outside remained elusive.
There was nothing but the wind, and no sign of any human presence. As I
continued to shout for help, I felt a presence at my feet, and sheer terror
gripped me as I felt it begin to climb.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It had claws, sharp as a cat's, and its touch sent shivers
down my spine. The creature was freezing cold, and I could hardly bring myself
to look at it. Stringy hair dangled from its grotesque head, and its eyes were
large, black orbs, seemingly even darker than the surrounding darkness. It was
about the size of a medium teddy bear, its breath hot and fetid, carrying the
stench of death and the unnatural.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The creature fixed its gaze upon me, and I let out a scream
of pure horror. In a terrifying instant, it lunged for my throat, and my world
once again descended into an inky black abyss.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYW-r7BaIOfux5vNZ75TRYMiKf5VaW1dITphna9IQmdpa-Tprdrt1lPbUCdXthd0ISPmICzF8-LIL2H0StKXTxfnmBS80oPz8s-D_aS3DvrkZipwHhtvKWfBULlNkO3w8cWCdAEidHp6qsZYogaK2KfVXXKrs-PT05T5iFCqy91nmHNCa5ssKcIZ3Bnqk/s1024/ud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYW-r7BaIOfux5vNZ75TRYMiKf5VaW1dITphna9IQmdpa-Tprdrt1lPbUCdXthd0ISPmICzF8-LIL2H0StKXTxfnmBS80oPz8s-D_aS3DvrkZipwHhtvKWfBULlNkO3w8cWCdAEidHp6qsZYogaK2KfVXXKrs-PT05T5iFCqy91nmHNCa5ssKcIZ3Bnqk/w640-h640/ud.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p></div>
Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-45593657261101023082016-10-31T21:16:00.001-07:002023-10-24T19:13:43.318-07:00Don’t let me die<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In the dimly lit hospital room, the nurse stood, her heart
heavy with a truth she had yet to reveal. The patient, a man whose fragile
existence was tethered to an array of life-support machines, suffered from a
myriad of ailments that danced on the precipice of death. Each breath he took
seemed like a fragile thread of existence, one that could snap at any moment.
His pale skin clung to his frail frame, and his eyes, haunted by the specter of
death, darted about the room.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But the man was no ordinary patient, for he harbored a visceral,
unrelenting terror of death. He'd demand his life be preserved at any cost,
raging at the nurses as if they held the keys to his very soul. "Don't let
me die! Don't let me die!" he'd scream, his voice a desperate wail that
filled the sterile hospital corridors.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As the nights turned into weeks, the nursing staff grew
increasingly curious about the origins of this dread that consumed him. What
was it that kept him clinging so fervently to life? The answer came with a
chilling clarity, as one fateful night, the man's condition took a sudden,
ominous turn for the worse.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The nurse, alerted by the frantic beeping of the heart
monitor, rushed to his bedside, clutching emergency supplies and a racing
heart. What she saw next, however, was something she couldn't have prepared
for.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The man was no longer lying on the hospital bed; he was
hovering about two inches above it, an eerie grin etched across his face. His
eyes, once tormented, now gleamed with an unsettling malevolence. He laughed, a
sound so haunting it sent shivers down the spines of the medical team.
"You stupid bitches aren't going to let me die, are you?" he sneered.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Before anyone could respond, the man's body contorted in
agony, and he went into cardiac arrest. Twenty harrowing minutes later, his
life finally ebbed away.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yet, the true terror had only just begun. A doctor
pronounced the man dead, and the room seemed to sink into an unsettling
silence. Suddenly, as if spurred by an unseen force, the newly-deceased man sat
upright in his bed and started to laugh, an unholy mirth dancing in his eyes.
"You let him die. Too bad," he taunted.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What occurred next defied all reason and science. A
spine-chilling scream pierced the room, an agonized wail that seemed to emanate
from the depths of despair. Then, in a hushed whisper, the words "don't
let me die" echoed throughout the unit, a spectral chant that sent a
shiver down the spine of every nurse present.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The hospital's staff was paralyzed with fear, their faces
drained of color. No one dared to venture anywhere alone, as the hospital's
corridors seemed to hide malevolent secrets. But by morning, the chilling
whispers of "don't let me die" had vanished, leaving behind an eerie,
unexplainable silence.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The tale of the man who laughed in the face of death and his
haunting presence would forever linger in the minds of those who had witnessed
it, a macabre reminder that there are realms of existence beyond our
comprehension, where the line between life and death blurs into something
profoundly unsettling.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnp1sr312DfMCAcIBeTKj1SU3X__v8Lac_uucuZFooK58UDQFucbGHIVkzCbxSgBDnbsroEQ3Xu0lV4PFz4GTOlCwmsOUTndKKUHcmuXrENl6wMnvqlaI9QL7ZYLW6IhNxCfW6Vds1FuatdUGEJHase8ob-IMZQdA2vWgBoEfhlThZDvBi-LuiRV58CEJi/s1024/bed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnp1sr312DfMCAcIBeTKj1SU3X__v8Lac_uucuZFooK58UDQFucbGHIVkzCbxSgBDnbsroEQ3Xu0lV4PFz4GTOlCwmsOUTndKKUHcmuXrENl6wMnvqlaI9QL7ZYLW6IhNxCfW6Vds1FuatdUGEJHase8ob-IMZQdA2vWgBoEfhlThZDvBi-LuiRV58CEJi/w640-h640/bed.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p></div></div>
Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-21907792492494926192015-08-09T21:10:00.002-07:002023-10-24T19:53:59.136-07:00Reflection <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Throughout the annals of history, a plethora of myths and
superstitions have sprouted from the enigmatic world of mirrors and
reflections. One of the most ubiquitous superstitions we've all encountered
pertains to the ominous consequences of breaking a mirror – a seemingly
innocent act believed to bestow seven years of ill fortune upon the careless
transgressor. Yet, perhaps even more disconcerting is the profound connection
ascribed to mirrors in relation to the human soul.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The prevailing notion is that mirrors, by virtue of their
ability to capture one's reflection, also possess a fragment of one's essence.
In certain cultures, it is believed that mirrors can even reflect the presence
of an individual's very soul.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Undoubtedly, these deeply entrenched beliefs have given rise
to an assortment of superstitions and customs. Some of these convictions likely
originated in a time when mirrors were scarce and of subpar quality,
particularly in the pre-industrial era of Kurseong, West Bengal, where they
often produced grossly distorted images. In fact, numerous cultures hold that
the reflection in a mirror mirrors an alternate world or dimension, serving as
a portal to the spirit realm. In this realm, the natural order is inverted;
darkness becomes light, good is transmuted into evil, and day morphs into
night, creating a topsy-turvy reflection of our reality.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Not surprisingly, it is posited that souls residing in this
alternate realm seek to return to our dimension, exploiting the reflection in a
mirror as a gateway.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Traditionally in Kurseong, it is customary to turn mirrors
to face the wall upon the passing of a household member. The belief is that if
the departing spirit catches sight of its own reflection, it may choose to
reanimate the body. In certain regions of Kurseong, this practice extends to
the act of emptying all water containers, as the liquid's reflective property
is thought to provide a medium through which the disembodied soul can find its
way back. Romania takes this notion a step further, where all water containers
are covered at night, under the belief that spirits roam during those hours and
could inadvertently drown in water. In alignment with the philosophy of
wandering spirits, Romanians also hold the belief that opening doors and
windows at the moment of a loved one's demise facilitates the spirit's passage
from this world to the next.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In stark contrast, the inhabitants of Macedonia deliberately
place containers of water at gravesides, aiming to ensnare any malevolent
spirits that may lurk within, thereby averting nocturnal torments.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All these myths collectively contribute to the idea that
water and malevolence are an incompatible mix, which may partially explain the
water-defeating fate of the wicked witch in "The Wizard of Oz."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yet, apprehensions surrounding reflections were not confined
to water and mirrors alone. Eyes were also regarded as vessels capable of
trapping souls through their reflective qualities, leading to the practice of
averting one's gaze from the deceased. It was believed that the visage of death
reflected in the eyes of a corpse could be transmitted to onlookers, sealing
their fate with an inexorable and imminent demise.</p></div></div></div><div><div class="MsoNormal">
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-6774899255259710702015-03-22T18:40:00.003-07:002018-12-29T21:01:05.290-08:00The Consequences of Midnight<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> </span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">It all started when
I met my first husband, I was only 18 years old and strange things began to
happen as soon as he entered my life. I always had a feeling of someone
watching over me, but it wasn't until we became engaged when I was 19 where I
first saw what I can only describe as a ghost.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><u1:p></u1:p><u2:p></u2:p>It
was a Monday morning, very early about 1 in the morning and I heard a whisper
of "don't trust him, please don't trust him", I put this down to
being in a sleepy state and ignored it. At exactly 3:00 that same night I woke
to a man at the end of my bed just watching me, he had no face and I couldn't
make out anything apart from that the figure was that of a man, it was just a
black figure.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><u1:p></u1:p><u2:p></u2:p>Needless
to say I ran out the room terrified into my parent's bedroom who both described
me as being "incredibly pale and looking fearful". After this I
refused point blank to move back into my bedroom, I moved into my little
sisters bedroom who I shared with, and then roughly 2 months later, again at
3:00 on a Monday morning I was awoken to the same figure walking around my
little sisters bed while she slept just watching her, as I darted up he just
vanished.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><u1:p></u1:p><u2:p></u2:p>After
discovering that no matter where I slept it appeared this would still happen I
moved back into my bedroom, again on a Monday morning at 3:00 I was awoken with
the man whispering "watch him, be careful just watch him". During
that month a smell of what I can only describe as drainage and death appeared
in my bedroom, literally just in my bedroom, as soon as you went past the
doorway when leaving the room the smell would vanish, we called out the
plumbers who cleared all the pipes running through my room but insisted that
all pipes were clear, the smell lasted a week and then just faded away.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><u1:p></u1:p><u2:p></u2:p>I
then married my partner and moved into a house a street away from my parents,
turns out my husband wasn't such a nice man, he cheated on me constantly and
after a year we got into a fight which resulted in me being strangled and
getting a broken finger. I left my husband and remained in our house on my own
for 6 months, during my time in the house I found a young girl in a long white
night dress playing hide and seek with my living room door.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">She appeared every
time I had a low day and thought about trying again with my husband. I never
did, I moved back in with my parents. During my time in the bad marriage my mum
hired a medium who described our family so well; my father’s job, my brothers
personality everything, so my mum questioned here about someone being un the
house but she said there was no man, just a naughty young boy who was harmless.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><u1:p></u1:p><u2:p></u2:p>Little
did I know but my Nan in the Dover Lane had also been to see a Medium. It was a
group session and my Nan was picked out from the crowd with the lady stating
"you have a grandchild who can see things, she has a gift but doesn't know
how to use it yet" my Nan has over 40 grand children but she insists it’s
me that she was told about.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><u1:p></u1:p><u2:p></u2:p>I
am now married again to a wonderful man, but as most people he has a history
and comes with an ex wife and a daughter, I get on incredibly well with my step
daughter but sadly my husband and myself have problems with his ex wife. I let
things bother me and upset me, and when things get too much for me I wake in
the night with what feels like a reassuring hand on my head.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><u1:p></u1:p><u2:p></u2:p>Sadly
I also have feelings of being attacked in my sleep, once it was a brutal
attack, I myself wasn't moving, I woke in the same spot as I fell asleep, but I
really felt like I had been attacked I was covered in sweat and was very
scared. I have also had the feeling if someone pulling at my feet while I
sleep... This always occurs when my husband is away working.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><u1:p></u1:p><u2:p></u2:p>I
also had a dream about 6 months ago of 3 people arguing saying "she's not
ready yet" over and over again.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u1:p></u1:p>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Basically I would
like to know... What on earth is happening to me? Has someone been warning me?
Or is someone tormenting me?</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-40501147178669641322015-02-12T11:48:00.008-08:002021-02-26T09:34:38.421-08:0014th Feb<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"> A doctor entered the <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">hospital in hurry after being called in for an urgent surgery.</span><br /> He answered the <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">call asap, changed his clothes and went directly to the surgery block.</span><br /> He <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">found the boy’s father pacing in the hall waiting for the doctor.</span><br /></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"> On seeing him, the <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">father yelled, “Why did you take all this time to come? </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 24pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"> Don’t you know that my </span><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">son’s life is in danger? </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 24pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"> Don’t you have any sense of responsibility?”</span><br /></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"> Hey.. wait a minute <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">today is Valentine’s Day. So you are in a fancy date with your lady?</span><br /> Am I right <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">doctor?</span><br /></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"> The doctor smiled <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">and said, “I am sorry, I wasn't in the hospital and I came as fast </span></span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 18.6667px;">as</span></div><div style="line-height: 24pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"> I could. </span><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">after receiving the call and now, I wish you’d calm down so that I can do my</span><br style="font-size: 18.6667px;" /><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"> work”. </span><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">“Calm down?</span><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 24pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"> What if <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">your son was in this room right now, would you calm down? </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 24pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"> If your own son dies </span><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">while waiting for doctor than what will you do?” </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 24pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"> said the father angrily.</span><br /> The doctor smiled again and replied, “We will do our best by God’s grace and<br /> you should also pray for your son’s healthy life”.</span><span face=""calibri" , sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"> “Giving advises when <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">we’re not concerned is so easy” Murmured the father.</span><br /><br /></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"> The surgery took<br /> some hours after which the doctor went out happy, “Thank goodness! Your son is<br /> saved!” And without waiting for the father’s reply he carried on his way<br /> running by saying, “If you have any questions, ask the nurse”.</span><span face=""calibri" , sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"> “Why is he so <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">arrogant? </span><br /> He couldn't wait some minutes so that I ask about my son’s state”<br /> Commented the father when seeing the nurse minutes after the doctor left.<br /> The nurse answered, tears coming down her face, </span><span face=""calibri" , sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 18.6667px;">“His son died </span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 18.6667px;">yesterday in a road accident,</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 18.6667px;"> </span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 18.6667px;">he was at the way to burial ground when we called him for your </span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 18.6667px;">son’s surgery. </span></div><div style="line-height: 24pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: 14pt;"> And now that he saved your son’s life, he left running to <span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">finish his son’s burial.”</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 24pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 24pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;"><span face=""calibri" , "sans-serif"" style="color: #6fa8dc;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCxJQbQkuU7vq58ylSaTN3yOfWr20On-YVc_ohuuWftrQ1xH4yZtsMes1SimoTPZBzVYSPSS5X7lv4mqAWuTbe5EVQb9LiiAb3v6j-0hjm4JUfnXXQPAwRNue9I3LQN-0ttOw9qJMqbMWt/s910/grave-cemetery-rip-tombstone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="607" data-original-width="910" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCxJQbQkuU7vq58ylSaTN3yOfWr20On-YVc_ohuuWftrQ1xH4yZtsMes1SimoTPZBzVYSPSS5X7lv4mqAWuTbe5EVQb9LiiAb3v6j-0hjm4JUfnXXQPAwRNue9I3LQN-0ttOw9qJMqbMWt/w640-h426/grave-cemetery-rip-tombstone.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div></div></div></div></div></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-6039085712529150062015-01-14T17:02:00.000-08:002018-10-17T14:53:23.364-07:00 Mutation <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDfMHGEPhyphenhyphencuxlQShQUbvcKTLnwzflavGhq6rEYEy9R0KOWp9pWtwq55GB0unUXW4QGT3DXuJIlmfHDiFerEl3n1K2zsMO6XDfVXOpclZJ6-ZS-patoeGC8YC_n6gFwrQvvwTT6NcCyUys/s1600/MU.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="620" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDfMHGEPhyphenhyphencuxlQShQUbvcKTLnwzflavGhq6rEYEy9R0KOWp9pWtwq55GB0unUXW4QGT3DXuJIlmfHDiFerEl3n1K2zsMO6XDfVXOpclZJ6-ZS-patoeGC8YC_n6gFwrQvvwTT6NcCyUys/s320/MU.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Breathing heavily,
my eyes begin to burn. I start to freeze from my toes to the top of my head.
Inside feels cold and broken as if I was dead. I get the eager to have a taste
of blood. The thought rolls in my mind for a few minutes. Hunger builds up inside,
before I get the chance to move I fall to the ground. My eye site is gone.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I open my eyes and
see nothing but darkness around me. I get up slowly, my body is very weak. I
start to smell something that makes me want to go after it. So I run towards
the smell like I was hunting for food. I reach where the smell was coming from,
my eyes become wide. My fane’s grow, and I bit down on the animal that I had
been after. The taste of blood flows through my body. Soon as I am full, I get
a boost of energy as if I had been reborn.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I wipe the blood off
my face. My eyes go back to normal and my fane’s go back to their normal size.
I look down on the ground at the animal. It was tore into pieces. My eyes begin
to water as if I was crying. I think to myself ‘what have I done, who am I, or
what have I become?’ those questions roll in my mind for a few minutes.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-27922894007242644352014-06-25T14:30:00.006-07:002020-06-25T21:16:32.588-07:00Spectral or Ghost?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div><br /></div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#f7cb4d">Spectral</font><font color="#3367d6"> </font><font color="#f7cb4d">o</font></span><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#d52c1f">r</font></span><span style="color: #3367d6; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#d52c1f">Ghost?</font></span><span style="color: #3367d6; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">Rick, a 34-year-old investigator
who also said he could see and hear spirits, described his role as Psychic
between the home owner or business owner and the spirit world. He said his
abilities began with sensing other people’s emotions when he was young, and he
was eventually able to see spirits with my mind’s eye, in the same way we
daydream or imagine. Rick reported that he always felt a sense of purpose to help
people and explain this strange other side of life. Sina and Rick clearly
believed that a higher power gave them gifts of discernment to help the living
and the dead. By claiming that their abilities were present since childhood,
they rooted their claims in a sense of perceived destiny. <o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">Sina’s account is interesting in
that she used the phrase dumb luck to describe his entry into paranormal
investigating yet also claimed that the field chose her.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">Niron, the man who believed his
father was haunting his home, did not claim to be sensitive but nevertheless
explained that investigating gave his life purpose. At the time I was 32 and
kind of just, like, floating through life, always in the back of my mind it was
like, if I die tomorrow, is anybody going to ever remember anything about me? I
don’t know why it just kind of happened by dumb luck, but honestly it’s the
best thing that’s ever happened to me.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">To reconcile these two aspects
of his history, Niron offered a retrospective account that placed his
experience within the interpretive frame of the calling. Rather than framing
his experience as destiny.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">Rick ‘’ Not everyone believes in
ghosts, spirits and the paranormal. But are there strange goings-on in your
home that you sometimes can’t explain? One possible conclusion could be that
it’s haunted” <o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">Sina “I always pray to God may
god will send angels our way and protect us on these investigations.”<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">Niron “I am exposed to not only
the paranormal, but the deepest secrets of individuals’ lives”<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">Chapter – 1 <o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">Rick, believes there’s a few
easy ways to tell if your house is home to spirits. And before you think that
it’s only old buildings that can be haunted, think again.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">1. Feelings of being watched.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">2. Feelings of someone standing
behind you.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">3. Feelings of being touched by
unseen hands.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">4. Feelings of the hair on back
of your neck standing up.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">5. Feelings of cobwebs on your
face or body.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">6. Feeling a cold breeze as if
someone has walked past you.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">7. Dark depressing feeling,
especially in one particular location.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">8. Lights turning on and off, or
up and down, on their own.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">9. Frequent electrical problems
such as lights inexplicably turning on or off, or appliances not working or acting
up<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">10. Sounds of items being
dropped – but when you go to investigate, there is nothing there.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">11. Seeing unexplained shadows
from the corner of your eye.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">12. Strange behavior from pets
in the property: e.g. dogs barking or growling at something you cannot see,
cats staring in a particular area as if they can see someone.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">13. Hearing voices, whispers,
footsteps, thuds or someone calling your name.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">14. Mists or unexplained moving
shapes.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6">15. Unusual smells such as
unexplained perfume scents, flowers, cigars, cigarettes, food or even the
stench of death and decay.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
</p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><font color="#3367d6"> </font></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-26973877690428261142014-06-20T11:52:00.002-07:002018-10-17T15:09:41.610-07:00The Red Wristband<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></b></span><b><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></b>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></b></span><b><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">When you are admitted to a hospital, they place on your wrist a
white wristband with your name on it. But there are other different colored
wristbands which symbolize other things. The red wristbands are placed on dead
people.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">There was one surgeon who worked on night shift in a school
hospital. He had just finished an operation and was on his way down to the
basement. He entered the elevator and there was just one other person there. He
casually chatted with the woman while the elevator descended. When the elevator
door opened, another woman was about to enter when the doctor slammed the close
button and punched the button to the highest floor. Surprised, the woman
reprimanded the doctor for being rude and asked why he did not let the other
woman in.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 18.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The doctor said, “That was the woman I just operated on. She
died while I was doing the operation. Didn’t you see the red wristband she was
wearing?”</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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this?”</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-55582115777792018632014-04-22T21:18:00.002-07:002018-10-17T15:20:06.631-07:00Black Tears <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">This happened when I
was into my second year of Medical School. Usually we had to stay back in the
hospitals either to assist the seniors or work over our cases. Let me confess
that I, being the first doctor in our family, was never used to seeing so much
of blood, pain & death lying around - not to mention the nauseous smell
of the medicines & chemicals. Most of my first year went into crying
for home, puking during practical and crying more...</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">It was in the month
of August that I and my classmate Sheena stayed back in the morgue to complete
our case studies. Just the same morning, a critical case had arrived in the
hospital wherein a woman of 29 was badly hit by a speeding car. The woman
breathed her last about an hour after being admitted to the ICU. Her family,
including her parents, her two daughters and her relatives were mourning
endlessly. Apparently, the woman was a widow - her daughters were crying
dreadfully, kneeling before their mother's dead body. Me and Sheena were
horrified watching the total chaos.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">It was around 9 pm
and we were working over an teenage accident case. Suddenly, we realized that
the dead widow was lying just two bodies away. We were overcome with whist of
fear and depression, especially because we had seen that very woman pass away
this morning. We started talking about what would happen to her little
daughters and her parents.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">All of a sudden,
Sheena shrieked and pointed out horrifyingly at the woman. I turned around and
saw that black tears were trickling down the dead woman's eyes. I was shocked
for a moment but then I thought this might be some kind of biological reaction
(something like rigor mortis. I told Sheena to calm down - I told her this
might be some kind of after-death reaction and we should note it down so that
we can ask our professors about it. This calmed Sheena for a while.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">However, after 5
mins, we could hear distinct noises - more of moans coming out of the woman's
body. Tears continued to trickle down. It was as if the woman was either alive
somewhere and moaning or she dead and repenting it. Either ways, I and Sheena
were scared and ran out to call for help. Our seniors came inside and checked
the body. Surprisingly, there were no moans - the body was lying as cold as
ever.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">Today, even after 5
years, we still have this memory fresh in our mind.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-3806427766785877982014-03-03T20:05:00.002-08:002018-10-17T15:29:09.841-07:00Highway to Hell<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<h3 class="r">
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<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Manohar felt great. He had the road all to himself. For hours his
only company had been the thousands of tiny insects dancing in the beams of the
headlights.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Cool mountain air rushed
into the cab through the open window. It carried a hint of rain, but the sky
was cloudless, marked only by the countless sparkling stars and the thin glow
of a crescent moon.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The feeling of freedom and
power as he pressed down on the accelerator was overwhelming - almost
intoxicating. Only one thing bothered him at the moment. He didn't know where
he was.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Not that he was lost.
Manohar never got lost, at least not for very long. He just didn't know
where he was. Or why. Or how he'd come to be there, or where he was going.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He was just driving, all
alone, in the middle of nowhere, for no reason that he could remember.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He knew other drivers who
would fall into a semi-sleep at the wheel. They'd experience a temporary
disorientation. But Manohar knew that he hadn't dozed off. He was wide
awake, and fully aware of everything around him.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He thought back, trying to
remember when he'd stopped last</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Two days before he'd been
in Forest road. That's where Sara lived, so he certainly couldn't forget that.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">After Forest road..
Nothing. Two days were missing.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">He looked straight ahead
through the darkness, trying to find the telltale dome of light of a city or
town. Eventually he must come across a town - something that would give him his
bearings. The road stretched out, surrounded by dense forest, on and on, with
no signs of ever ending. The view in the mirror was the same.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The radio was silent. Its
light tried to tell him that it was working, but nothing came through the
speaker but soft static. Every channel was the same. Either he was too far from
any transmitter, or absolutely nobody was on the air.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Without warning a man
appeared in the road ahead. In the frightening and helpless second before
collision, Manohar saw that the man was just standing there, arms raised,
and smiling.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> Manohar's hands
automatically tightened on the wheel. There was no impact. No thud.
Manohar clearly saw the image of the man slide through the cab and then
disappears through the back wall of the van.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> Manohar braked hard
and fought to keep the van from going out of control. The right wheels bit into
the gravel of the shoulder and sent up a wake of dust. Just inches from a large
and very hard tree the van came to a stop.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Adrenalin shot through his
veins as he hopped from the van. He looked back through the darkness and saw
that the man was now walking toward him, and still smiling. Just fifty yards
away the man stopped, and then waved.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"Hello. I was
wondering if you'd be by tonight. I've been waiting for you."</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> Manohar felt the
blood rush to his face, leaving a streak of icy cold along his spine. His hand
was shaking badly. Fighting a desperate flood of panic he reached into the van
and pulled out a large wrench.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"Hold it right there,
Man," he commanded.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The man shrugged.
"Okay, if that's what you want. But you might as well put the wrench away.
It won't do you any good."</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"Step closer and
we'll see just how much good it does. Now who the hell are you, and what do you
want with me?"</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"It doesn't really
matter who I am. You're Manohar , right?"</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"Yeah. So
what?"</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"Well, Manohar,
I've come to release you from this world."</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The chill along his spine
exploded, spreading a tingling numbness all through his body. Breath came hard.
The man began walking toward him again, arms open.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"Stand where you
are!" Manohar screamed.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The man ignored it, and
was smiling even wider than before. "There's no need to be afraid,
Manohar. Accept it, and it will be much easier.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Using both hands
Manohar raised the wrench and hurled it at the approaching stranger. It
sailed through him and slid along the road behind.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"Calm down,
Manohar. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm going to help you. I'm here to
release you from this world."</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> Manohar tightened
his fists, knowing very well that all his strength wouldn't help him against
this . . . this creature of darkness. "How can I fight a ghost?" he
thought in panic.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The man came very close
before he stopped, and then stood looking at Manohar and smiling.
"Being dead isn't so bad. You'll see."</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"But I don't want to
be dead!"</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"I'm afraid you have
no choice, Manohar. There's nothing you can do about it." The man
opened his arms again, as if to take Manohar into his embrace.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> Manohar backed up
quickly and yelled, "Get away from me. No spook is going to touch
me!"</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The man smiled and lowered
his arms. "Do you know what a ghost is, really?"</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">A drop of sweat fell down
Manohar's nose and into his mouth. "Yeah. They're dead people."</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"Not all dead people
are ghosts, but you're right, in a way. Some who have died just wander around,
and won't let go of this physical world. They sometimes stay around the spot
where they died - such as this road."</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Cold kept spreading
through Manohar until now he was shivering. He swallowed hard, trying to
remove the grapefruit sized lump in his throat. "Then why don't you just
leave!!! Why do you want to go haunting a road for?"</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The stranger stared at
Manohar, the smile gone. "You don't understand yet, do you
Manohar? It's not me who's haunting this road. I'm quite alive. You are
the ghost. You died on this road thirteen days ago and have been driving it
ever since. Now you can leave. There's no reason for you to stay lost any
longer.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">"You're dead,
Manohar."</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-68754517959131213772013-12-08T18:47:00.002-08:002018-10-17T15:30:40.261-07:00Remember me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5SGPSiBFQIaDZN07bd5MDBNiKVwVhA3TIdTbKuUGji3pDCiQvpSqQ_s3XUnBlccANKXaZVUjBU8KCY5Ud4na2MMU8DTVzMX7OI875kdK0Ym1NPUx2HetCImqryp7iqE4LRsDJmhLc38v/s1600/remember+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5SGPSiBFQIaDZN07bd5MDBNiKVwVhA3TIdTbKuUGji3pDCiQvpSqQ_s3XUnBlccANKXaZVUjBU8KCY5Ud4na2MMU8DTVzMX7OI875kdK0Ym1NPUx2HetCImqryp7iqE4LRsDJmhLc38v/s1600/remember+me.jpg" width="492" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Remember me .....</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In the cold of the
winter I still remember when we felt our love</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">For the first time</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And we were walking
all night</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">To taste our fear of
darkness</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Every time when I
looking in your eyes</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I see sorrow of love</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And you still let me
to touch your pure heart</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Remember how we had
our dreams</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And we suppose to
share them</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But now dark angel
took them away from us</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In the midnight when
moon and stars shows up</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And we were dancing
all night</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Can you remember it?</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And when you kiss me
it makes me feel alive</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<o:p></o:p>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And the touch full
of passion</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">It makes me like I
am in heaven</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-35277605158935335232013-11-02T20:33:00.001-07:002019-01-04T19:36:35.809-08:00Tales from the Dark Chapter- 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Once Upon a Time, a
girl named Alice lived in a castle with her step-sister and her step-sister's
boy-friend. Alice and her sister hated each other. One day, Alice stole her
step-sister's wedding ring and ran away. Her sister sent out guards to find
Alice. When they found her, they brought her to the castle of the prince (the
step-sister's boyfriend / Jax). That night when the guards came back with,
Alice the step-sister and the prince were sitting in front of the lit
fireplace. The step-sister grabbed the ring and threw Alice into the fire. When
the fire was out, all that was left of Alice was a part of her throat, the
esophagus.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">To this day, Alice
is still looking for her sister to kill her. Of course, her sister is already
dead but her spirit still exists. Go into the bathroom, in front of the mirror.
Take a candle with you and light it. Turn off all of the lights except the candle
and say her name thirteen times (Alice...) and open your eyes, you might
see her. But be careful, because every eight years is Friday the 13th of
February and if you ever mention her name in your life, on the 13th she
will give you a fright night because that is the night she got killed. The last
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-21039455126329391652013-10-28T21:36:00.000-07:002019-01-04T19:34:57.510-08:00Tales from the Dark Chapter- 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">K.D. (Kamalika Das)
lives in a small area of Assam called Abhayapuri, where there is little more
than gas stations, schools, houses and cows. She usually considered this place
rather boring, but one night a few days before Halloween would change all that
for her.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">On this night, K.D.
was driving her boyfriend to his house at about 8:30 p.m. being a person who
says she can almost always sense imminent danger or evil, K.D.'s heart began to
beat rapidly. For some unknown reason, chills ran down her spine and she began
to perspire, even though she had the car's AC on full blast. "I was
getting an eerie feeling that something evil was up ahead," she says.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">We are all familiar with
how an animal's eyes glow in a creepy way when a light is shone into them.
"Up the hill about two minutes from my house, a black dog walked right in
front of my car," K.D says. She thought it was peculiar that the animal
was just casually walking across the road without any apparent fear of getting
hit by her car. "I hit the brakes and managed to stop about five feet from
the dog," she remembers. "It just stood there and stared at me. I
turned on my high beams, and when I saw its eyes, they were a golden reddish
tint. It stood there for about a minute, then walked away. I hit the gas and
sped off, terrified. But when I looked back, the dog was nowhere in sight."</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">K.D. proceeded home
but could not shake the weird feeling of dread that overcame her before and
during her encounter with that black dog. Was it a harbinger of something more
terrifying? K.D. believes it was a catalyst for a very disturbing dream a few
nights later.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">"I dreamed that
I was in my room listening to music when it all of a sudden stopped," she
recalls vividly. "I looked at my iPod and it was still playing, but there
was no sound. I looked at my door and there was a man in a black trench coat
staring at me. It wasn't the fact that there was a man in my room that freaked
me out, it was his face. It was red with black cracks all over, and he had
horns. His eyes were a deep gold with no pupil, and he had long fangs coming
out of his mouth.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">"I just sat
there staring at him. Then he said, 'It's time....' And that's when I noticed a
watch in his left hand. When he spoke, his breath came out as smoke and reeked
of burning spoiled meat. He made a grab for my neck and that's when I woke up.
The first smell that came to me was burning spoiled meat."</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-49672352087900808922013-07-01T21:15:00.001-07:002018-10-17T15:41:10.247-07:0011.11.11. in Muzaffarpur<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">My name is Niki from Barauni,Begusarai, (Bihar).</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Since my childhood
I've had several paranormal experiences. I always felt I could see and feel the
supernatural. Being a kid, nobody believed me so I rather keep my experiences
to myself and related it to those who faced similar experiences. This incident
occurred when I was in Muzaffarpur during my college days. I used to rent a
flat with five other girls. The flat was a two-story building with just two
houses.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">One was ours and the other
on the second floor belonged to two old ladies who never really interacted with
us. They were weird anyways. It was a huge flat with three very big rooms. I
used to stay in a single room, four girls in adjacent room and the last room
was given to another girl. The four girls opted to stay together in the same
room. There was a dining area in the centre with kitchen opposite to it. I
always found the dining area very weird as the walls were black, as if they
were burnt. Three girls from the adjacent room used to work in call centers, so
they arrived at 2:00am each day. That night Shweta (the girl from their group),
the last room girl and I were chatting until late night in my room and we
didn't realize when the clock struck 2:00 am. The other girls (Fatima, Moon and
Neha) rang the bell. Now, we had a grill at the building entrance and the flat
was in the floor, so we had to go down to the ground floor to open the gate if
somebody comes at night. So Shweta and the last room girl went downstairs to
open the gate for them. I was alone in the flat. Suddenly both of them came
running. I was surprised and asked them what happened? They looked at me and
said, "Niki, why did you shout so loudly and we could hear a loud
sound". I was surprised. How is it possible for me not to hear that loud
sound and shout in that 2:00 am silent night? We found it very strange but
ignored the incident. Days passed by quite normally, but each one of us in the
flat always felt a spooky presence when alone. That day was my last day in that
house. All other girls had already shifted to different places. I found a place
for myself too, and it was the last night I had to spend in that house. I
remember all my furniture was already shifted to the new house. All I had in
the house was my double bed mattress and a pair of clothes for me to wear for
the next day. It was around 12:30 am. I was speaking over the phone and lying
on my mattress, which was placed on the floor as the bed was already shifted.
The room door was closed (not locked). Suddenly the door opened of its own.
Please bear in mind the door was a heavy wood door which cannot be moved by
wind because first, it was tight. And second, it was an old age thick heavy
door found in old houses. When the door opened, it moved me back. I could
clearly sense somebody in the room. I kept my phone down. I was horrified by
then. I could not move. I was still lying on the mattress.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> It was complete
silence. I could hear somebody breathing. I could hear somebody walking on the
floor barefoot. The sound was very clear and distinct. I wanted to move but
could not. Somehow I gathered the courage to pick up the cell phone lying
beside me and dialed my mom's number. I was crying and told my mom whatever was
happening to me each second. My mother got to know immediately what it was and
gave me the courage to fight the evil. She made me realize that power of God is
always there to protect me.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> I always carry my
God's picture in my purse. I somehow managed to grab my purse and take out
God's picture. It gave me strength. I stated chanting the name of Lord
repeatedly and could feel the energy fading.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> I then felt alone.
Very alone. The whole night I could not sleep for a second. I continuously
chanted prayers and waited for the sun to arise. Many days later, after moving
from that flat, I was once passing from the same area with some of my other
friends and told them about my incident. One of my friends who stays near that
same flat said that it was a haunted house and the whole area knows it. It once
caught fire killing a man.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-32338231120406888362013-06-24T19:46:00.000-07:002018-10-17T15:42:47.692-07:00 The Janitor<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">This incident was
related to me by my cousin. She works at the outpatient section in the
hospital.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">That night as usual,
she was getting ready to go home when one of the nurses there ask her if she
don’t mind checking some paperwork before she go. So she decided to stay for a
while.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">The checks didn’t
take long, she manages to finish the paperwork’s before 11:30 pm.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">(The time when the
janitor would come to lock the doors of the respective outpatient sections)</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">As she was walking
happily ready to go home, she realizes that she had forgotten her wallet. She
rushed back to the hospital so that she could catch the janitor before he locks
her section.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">As she was running
frantically down the corridor towards her clinic, she saw the janitor locking
the door. She shouted for him to stop telling him that she had left something
behind.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">For whatever reason,
he ignored her. She continued running towards him. Running and shouting.
Finally, as she was about 3 feet away from him he turn towards her and smile.
What she saw freaks her out. The janitor’s face was hideous and his skin looks
as if it had been bitten off by thousands of maggots. Before she fainted, she
heard him said “Did you forget something my child?”</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">When she regains
consciousness, the real janitor was looking at her. He asks her what happen and
told her he was a bit late today as his son was sick. He helps my cousin up and
then told her never to walk along the corridors again after 11:50 pm. He never
told her the reasons why and i don’t think my cousin wanted to know either.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">By - Rahul Banerjee</span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-18100813971090299872013-05-30T19:52:00.002-07:002018-10-17T15:45:32.681-07:00May 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">It
was the end of may and the harsh wind blew hot and humid, kicking up a storm
for the evening hours. Off to the north the black clouds had started to brew
and roll. It was about 6:30 PM and my date was late. He would not tell me where
he planned to take me, it was a surprise. Now, being 30 minutes late, I began
to wonder what could possibly be going on, if I would be going anywhere.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I
walked out onto the open front porch and could almost smell the rain coming. It
began to grow darker. I decided if he arrived, we would just stay at my house
until the storm passed. Then started to worry that he may be riding his
motor cycle; motor cycles and thunder storms do not mix. He knew I despised
motor cycles, but. Well hopefully he would be in his truck.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">As
the dreaded motor cycle came around the corner, the rain began to spit big fat
drops. He got off the bike and indicated we needed to hurry up. I told him I
was not going, it was raining, IA was not getting on the bike, and I wouldn't
even if it was not raining. After he became increasingly angry with me and
refused to stay at my house until the storm passed, he got on the motorcycle
and started off into the down poor I looked up and all I could see was flashing
red and blue lights, such as those coming off an emergency vehicle. I watched
for a few minutes, thinking there must have been an accident right in front of
my house. I could hear screams of agony, sounding as if they were coming from
in a few feet in front of me, no one was there. I turned around to grab my iced
tea I had brought on to the porch with me, as I turned back, the lights were
all gone. There was no evidence of an accident either.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I
shook my head and turned to go into the house, as I turned I could hear the
unmistakable roar of his motor cycle starting, and then screeching tires. I
whirled around and nothing was there.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I
turned back around after a few moments and decided I would sit on the porch for
a while; surely the heat had gotten to me causing me to see and hear things.
About 20 minutes later, my mom called me at the screen door telling me I had a
call. I asked who it was as my mom was familiar with all of my friends, she
stated she didn't recognize the voice. I went in and answered the phone.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">The
voice on the other end of the line clarified my name and asked how I was
related to Mark, my would be date from earlier. I told them I was not related,
that we had been dating for a few weeks. I was then informed that he had my
name and phone number in his back pocket so I was the first person they called.
Mark had been in an accident on his motor cycle. The roads were wet and slick,
he skidded out of control and came to rest on a couple of those sand barrels
that are used for street barriers.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">As
the accident was being described to me by phone, I looked up and saw the
flashing red and blue lights again, I heard the screech of tires. I closed my
eyes tightly and said a silent pray. As I opened my eyes, again the lights and
the screeching sounds were gone.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I
was told to contact his parents and come to the hospital; they would not
release his condition to me over the phone. I told my mom, she drove me to his
parents home and I told them of the call. We all went to the hospital together.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">By
the time we arrived at the hospital, Mark's left leg had been put into a cast
all the way to his .., his scrapes and cuts had been cleaned on his arms and
face and he was arguing that he did not need to have the cervical collar on.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Mark
ended up staying in the hospital overnight for observation, but he eventually
recovered completely. We did not continue to date after that night.</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "comic sans ms"; font-size: 18.6667px; line-height: 19.9733px;">By- Rahul Banerjee</span><br />
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-9426654312689163882012-07-04T01:57:00.000-07:002018-10-17T15:47:26.668-07:00Darkness within<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">As I looked into the mirror, and saw the creation which was fading</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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I sailed the darkened waters of my soul on the ship of flaming hate</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Towards the land of the damned..</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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The cold winds of the darkness blow strongly</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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The cemetery glows in the dark</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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A thousand times, thousand voices are screaming from beyond</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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A number of faceless shapes march forth from the darkness within</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Life is slowly passing away, poisoned by guilt and sin</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Embraced in Black lie</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Only waiting to X the greatest of life's events</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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And I begin my journey..</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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As hands of greater characters unveil the world</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Plunging through space and time, my prison has now been slain</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Purifies my soul .. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-29070500688985125812012-06-28T02:21:00.003-07:002021-02-26T09:39:38.848-08:00The Rehab Center<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6D8zlRVvFuzjglGpHm8dUZPJ0sNl6wcq5lTBygIeO02jV7A-z04JYtz8gRNbcTQxhGhgWZwStl__Qit9HTxtgc3QHSeh0bYwd8rboLcNsClsg3x2OrzP-TdDVhOUf6LZ4snDTgQFyOzdq/s810/g.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="539" data-original-width="810" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6D8zlRVvFuzjglGpHm8dUZPJ0sNl6wcq5lTBygIeO02jV7A-z04JYtz8gRNbcTQxhGhgWZwStl__Qit9HTxtgc3QHSeh0bYwd8rboLcNsClsg3x2OrzP-TdDVhOUf6LZ4snDTgQFyOzdq/w640-h426/g.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> </b><b><br /><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b><br />
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">28th June 2012.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span><span style="color: #0b5394;">
I was staying in a 3 month rehabilitation program. There were four of us in the
room.</span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">One night </span>I awoke at 3:00 a.m.(which is how it has always been for me)</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">and I saw </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 18.6667px;">an apparition on the wall kind of floating above one of the other girls that was</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><br /></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Sleeping. It was a very clear image .She had a towel on her head like she
just</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">got out of the shower. She looked pasty white with dark circles under her
eyes</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">and looked tired. Her face was clear and I was a little wearing a
bathrobe.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">She just kept staring at me and she seemed very sad. I was a little
frightened</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">at fast and then I realized she was an addict who had struggled like me.
I kept</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">staring at her then I told her it was okay, that she could go home now. I
then</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">closed my eyes. This all took place within a 20- minute time span.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I could not go back to sleep so I got up to have cigarette. There was
another</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">girl sitting outside that had been there for a while. I told her what I
had seen</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">and described the girl in detail. She started shaking and became
visible upset.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">She told me the story of that girl I saw. she had been a client at the
facility.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">She was a beautiful girl that sang and played guitar. she was well liked.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But as I said, she was an addict. One night she couldn't take it anymore</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">and blotted out of the facility. She was hit by an oncoming train and was
killed</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Nobody knew if she did this on purpose or not, but the consensus was she</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Committed suicide. It had happened one month ago.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The next morning, I spoke to one of the counselors about this.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I described the girl face then showed me a picture of the girl. It was
the face</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">exactly as I had seen it. </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-85685753286693247562012-05-22T00:34:00.001-07:002018-10-17T15:51:55.833-07:00Sophie<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-u5UMNycobsQH5ZrHVIy9FA-eedgmKDpXCsxHsc41ZZzkyai7rUQYAdo2Z0-mnpKvGqnxDMoCT0hjQWPrarA3jxzx9v9D9195XdZragUhNU1t_BYcWdunfSuBG11WDWriul-FWJuM5Pr/s1600/night-driving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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Sophie made her way home on a dark wet December evening. She had been worrying
as to if her car would be up for the whole journey home.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">It had been acting
up lately including having trouble starting it early that morning for her trip
to work, leading her to be thirty minutes late for work. Sophie had so much to
get through that she stayed behind for those extra thirty minutes after she was
due to be off so that her work load wouldn’t fall behind any more than she
already was behind.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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The road ahead was a long dark one, with lamp posts being few and far between.
Rain began to fall lightly and the car was travelling well. Sophie turned her
radio on, flicked through the stations until she came to a song she liked, then
began to hum and sing away to herself.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
Traffic too was light. The full on lights of an oncoming car almost blinded
Sophie. She beeped and shouted out a profanity as the vehicle passed. It braked
and u-turned before beginning to follow Sophie. She suddenly regretted beeping
the car as it had passed her. The car behind approached quickly, beeping and
flashing its lights. Those lights shone bright in Sophie’s rear view mirrors,
once again almost blinding her. Sophie began to panic and increased her own
speed, once again worrying about the ability of her car to bring her to safety. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Sophie reached into her handbag which was sitting on the passenger seat and she
attempted to get her phone. The distraction along with the speed she was
travelling and the car behind her still beeping and flashing its lights almost
lead to Sophie to lose control of her car while at the same time caused her to
drop her mobile phone. Having that happen was the last thing Sophie needed.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Further panic ensued when the vehicle pulled up along Sophie. The male driver
signaled across with a pointing motion and Sophie presumed he wanted her to
pull over. There was no way she was going to do that. The other car continued
to beep and that just made Sophie want to go faster so she did pick up further
speed and the accompanying car began to once again fall behind.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">
How long more could her car continue like this? How Sophie wished she had left
work on time. She could be at home with her </span><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">fiance</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">. Right now she did not know
if she would get back at all.</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">
A deer in the road made Sophie break suddenly and this lead to someone coming
from behind her, as in the back seat of her car, to be thrown through the front
windscreen. The deer escaped unharmed and a man lay stretched out on
the ground. The perusing narrowly missed hitting the car it wad been following.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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The male driver got out and went to check on the driver of the car he had been
perusing, the reason to which was that he seen a suspicious presence in that
car and followed to warn the driver. Sophie was in shock but physically
unharmed. Police arrived about twenty minutes later and the man on the ground
never moved. However he was still alive. It was confirmed that this man was an
escaped convict whom had been serving life imprisonment for murder.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-74778541322633648502012-05-19T00:21:00.003-07:002021-02-26T09:42:45.712-08:00James and sarah<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNvThpWLmQysFd3v44inUJRKV9RsNsNhgvGKTt1j43yrvQs2YfGhIloZCZBwsgDTfR-InRxACOQSp5GleNEPKcokxSD7L4aBCU8sFCrsAIragDxSR6orlqv9j3k1uQr2ZuhUmyprgk7Pr/s1600/Break-Up-For-Her-Friends-Last-Movement.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="564" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNvThpWLmQysFd3v44inUJRKV9RsNsNhgvGKTt1j43yrvQs2YfGhIloZCZBwsgDTfR-InRxACOQSp5GleNEPKcokxSD7L4aBCU8sFCrsAIragDxSR6orlqv9j3k1uQr2ZuhUmyprgk7Pr/s1600/Break-Up-For-Her-Friends-Last-Movement.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">James studied hard</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He wanted to work
for an advertising agency</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Designing adverts
that would stun the world</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He loved his art</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He fell for a girl
called Sarah</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">They were together
for six months</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But in time Sarah
lost interest</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">She found him a
little dull</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And found somebody
else to impress</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">James was devastated
and crept silently into his shell</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He rarely went out
and immersed himself in his art</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He still did his
studies and got good marks</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But nobody notice
him slipping away</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Into a world of his
own</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He started to hear
voices</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Telling him to paint
pictures of demons and devils</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Telling him to start
cutting himself</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">His parents took him
to see a psychiatrist</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Who recommended a
spell on a mental ward</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">So he could receive
the appropriate treatment</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">James was somewhat
concerned</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He didn't quite
grasp what was happening</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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the Intensive Care Unit</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He continued to
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work in advertising</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But the world was
passing him by</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">His parents still
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">But his contact with
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Think of poor James
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And having children</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span face=""Calibri","sans-serif"" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He is lost in his
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-23578161307688778462012-03-13T00:49:00.000-07:002018-10-17T15:55:44.104-07:00Death Paradise<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Kolkata : Metro
service between Dum Dum and Maidan station were disrupted on Morning after a
22-years - women committed suicide at sovabazar sutanuti. The women was
later identified as Rimpa Das,a resident of Grish Avenue. The reasons behind
her taking this step could not be ascertained. She jumped in front of a Kavi
Nazrul - bond train at 7:40am. The motorman applied emergency brakes, but could
not stop the train on time. By the time it stopped, three compartments had
already passed over her. Commuters were evacuated and the train reversed to
recover her mutilated remains. The body was handed over to police around
8:15am. Normal services resumed around 8:17am,a senior Metro officer said. He
said all service between Dum Dum and Maidan had to be stopped as power in the
third line had to be switched off to retrieve the body. Normal services were
run between Maidan and Kavi Nazrul, though There have been 19 suicide attempts
on Metro tracks this year. While five persons were rescued ,the remaining lost
their lives. We have taken some measures to prevent suicides station staff keep
a lookout for people behaving strangely. Commuters are also forbidden from
getting too close to platform edges.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">Police Report –</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">College student
Rimpa Das, a resident of Grish Avenue, had left her handbag on the
platform before jumping on the track. “Inside the bag was a piece of paper in
which the girl had scribbled her landline number and made a plea to convey the
news of her death to her parents,” said an officer.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">The news reached the
girl’s family around 8.30am. “Rimpa as usual had left home around 7.10am for
her tuition class,” said Cousin Anju Kesh. “She was the only daughter of her
parents who wanted to marry her off quickly. But Rimpa wanted to complete her
studies first.”</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">Neighbors said Rimpa
had a relationship with one of her college friends but her family was against
the relationship. Family sources, however, denied knowledge about any such
affair.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068506614158087081.post-58483995722807975682012-03-05T21:46:00.002-08:002018-10-17T15:57:12.958-07:00Swanwick station<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">When I was 18 I had a girlfriend who lived 20 miles away at Park Gate. To
get to, and from there I regularly used the train from Cosham to Swanwick
station. To get home on this particular Sunday evening, I arrived at 11:00 pm
on Swanwick station. It is a fairly remote and dingy station and it was unusual
for anybody else to be there at this hour, but a lady in her late 40's or early
50's was seated waiting for the last train. She was about 5ft 4 inches tall, of
plump build, with permed hair, and was wearing a "camel" coat and was
carrying a very large canvas shopping bag, which had a tartan pattern on.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I sat down to wait for the train (which were frequently late). After a
few minutes the lady asked if there was a train as she "had to get back to
Portsmouth". I told her that I was also waiting for the same train and
that it should be along soon. Several times she asked the same question and
reinforced that she "must get back to Portsmouth". When the train
eventually did arrive, she remained seated but became very agitated and began
to cry. I told her that this was the last train, but several times between sobs
she repeated: "I can't go back". I asked if I could help, and
suggested that if she got on the train that perhaps we could talk about any problems
she had. But again she said "I can't go back". Meanwhile the guard
had got off of the train to point out that this was the last train on that
night and that if I was getting on I should hurry (from his angle he probably
couldn't see the lady). Reluctantly I got on the train, and as it pulled out of
the station I could see her sobbing.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">On the journey home I felt guilty about leaving her, as she was obviously
very upset about something. On arriving home at Cosham I telephoned the Police
at Park Gate and briefly related the story and asked if perhaps somebody could
visit the railway station and see if she was ok. I gave a description of her
height, dress, and the bag she was carrying. I assumed that perhaps some
domestic dispute was the cause of her distress.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">On arriving home from work the next evening (Monday) my mother drew my
attention to an article in the local paper, "The Evening News". She
knew that I caught the train from Swanwick and this article was appealing for
witnesses to an accident near that station. I immediately recognized the
photograph included in the article as the lady from the previous evening, the
description of her clothing, height, dress and bag also matched perfectly. The
article was appealing for witnesses to an accident where the lady had been
killed whilst walking along the railway lines.... ON THE SATURDAY EVENING.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I telephoned the newspaper and suggested that they had confused the
dates, and that I had spoken to the lady, they checked and to my surprise
insisted that the accident had been on Saturday. I then telephoned the police
who listened to my story, and indeed confirmed that I had reported the incident
on Sunday evening, however were adamant that the incident had occurred on
Saturday.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">In a subsequent article in the local paper I learned that the lady was
called Maureen Hampton, she was a patient in a local mental hospital
(Coldeast). She had been allowed out on the Saturday and had been to
Portsmouth. Returning in the evening she had missed the station at Swanwick and
got off of the train at the next stop (Bursledon), not being familiar with the
area she had decided to walk the short distance back to Swanwick along the
lines, and been struck by a train.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Now, I wish I had remained or touched her!!! However, I caught the bus
after this!</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>Contributed by Peter McKechnie</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGYQKB0TjpdCuJqTfnBa02kp71p7GZ27LQWNYD8HVVtF7N2-UidHx-_Txrxd0wdcFY2mqwm8RKyRg3ezcLreKmHQdhghi5XI6eeQdMH5LW-taOqiEx_g4rssaiRtC5rYRNqpfNldtEjxRg/s1600/37314+Loughborough+station+night+shot+IMG_0587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGYQKB0TjpdCuJqTfnBa02kp71p7GZ27LQWNYD8HVVtF7N2-UidHx-_Txrxd0wdcFY2mqwm8RKyRg3ezcLreKmHQdhghi5XI6eeQdMH5LW-taOqiEx_g4rssaiRtC5rYRNqpfNldtEjxRg/s640/37314+Loughborough+station+night+shot+IMG_0587.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Rahul Banerjeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02425052857851559432noreply@blogger.com