"An Educated Ghost in Need of a Friend to Talk To"

At that time, I was in my second year of college. It was a moonless night, and everything around me was pitch dark. I couldn’t even see my hand stretched out in front of me. It was around 11 PM. In my village, that’s quite late, as most people are winding down for bed by then. I was walking down the road, heading home after a friend’s birthday party. The fun and food were over, and now it was time to return. The shops were all closed, and only a few stray dogs were wandering the streets. I crossed the main road and entered a narrow alley.

To get home, I had to pass through this alley. The chirping of crickets filled the air, making the atmosphere seem a little eerie. But I wasn’t afraid of ghosts or spirits. I had walked through this alley many times before, even at 2 or 3 AM, bought cigarettes from a nearby shop, and headed home. So that night, I wasn’t scared either. I walked along, holding a cigarette in my hand, occasionally checking the path with the light from my mobile phone while humming a song, “I saw you, baby, and my heart started to sing.”

Then, suddenly, from the middle of the alley, I heard someone call, "Excuse me, brother." I turned on my phone’s light and scanned the area, but I couldn’t see anyone. I thought maybe someone from one of the nearby houses had called out to me. I continued walking, but just two steps later, I heard the voice again, "Excuse me, brother, I need to talk to you." This time, I stopped. I felt a little uneasy, but not because of ghosts—more like I was worried it might be a thief.

I thought to myself, if I run now and it turns out to be someone I know, I’ll look like a fool. So, I cleared my throat and said in a firm tone, “Who’s there?” The voice replied, “Brother, I’m like your little brother. I’m in serious trouble, and I need your help.”

I responded, a bit annoyed, “Why are you talking like a ghost?” The voice answered, “Brother, I’m a ghost. But just because I’m a ghost, does that mean I can’t talk like a normal person?” I didn’t know how to reply. I thought about calling for help, but then I wondered who would be around at this hour to hear me. The voice then said, “Brother, if you just give me your cigarette, I’ll be able to come out from the shadows and explain everything. You know, ghosts are scared of fire.”

I looked at the cigarette in my hand. It was almost finished. I took a final drag, threw it down, and stamped it out. Then I said, “Alright, tell me your problem.”

The voice began, “Brother, my name was Uttghat. The way I lived, my name was Utpall. But after I died, I became Uttghat.”

I asked, “How long ago did you die?” The voice replied, “It must have been thousands of years, brother.” Then, the voice added, “Brother, let’s walk and have some tea while I tell you my story.”

I was surprised and said, “Do ghosts drink tea?” Uttghat replied, “Why wouldn’t we? Ghosts drink tea more than humans because we stay awake all night scaring people. If we don’t drink tea, how can we stay alert?” I was unsure of what to make of this, but I kept walking.

I then said, “Listen, I’m not in the mood for tea with a ghost tonight. I need to get home and get some rest. Just tell me what happened to you.”

Uttghat continued, “Brother, I was a very educated ghost. I studied up to second grade, but after that, everything changed. I was part of the talent pool in class five and eight. But then, I stopped studying, and I became a ghost.”

I was confused and asked, “How could you be part of a talent pool if you dropped out after second grade?”

Uttghat answered, “You see, in the world of ghosts, things work differently. While people like you study primary school and high school first, we ghosts start at the advanced levels, like college and beyond. We get our degrees first, then go back and learn basic things. That’s why it seems strange.”

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or feel uncomfortable, so I asked, “But why did you stop studying?”

Uttghat paused before replying, “I stopped because of a girl named Sneha. She was my classmate, and we fell in love. But when I confessed my feelings, she rejected me. After that, my studies fell apart. One day, I gave her a letter with the words, ‘I saw you, baby, and my heart started to sing.’ She loved the message, but she asked where I got it from. I lied and said it was a line from a Hindi song, but it was something I wrote for her.”

Uttghat’s voice held a deep sorrow, and I could feel his pain through his words. After a pause, he said, “You know, I shouldn’t have gotten so upset. But that was the turning point in my life. I became obsessed with my failure, and that’s when I died and became a ghost.”

I thought for a moment and said, “You need to move on. You’re a ghost now, and you can’t change the past. It’s time to let go.”

Uttghat responded with a melancholic laugh, “You’re right, brother. But you know, I still think about her sometimes. I’ll never get over it. But I’ll remember your advice. If I ever need help, I’ll come to you.”

With that, Uttghat faded away, and I stood there for a moment, feeling a strange sense of sorrow for this lost soul. I shook my head and walked the rest of the way home, realizing that sometimes, even ghosts need someone to talk to.