CoffeeShop Blues: 2015 Traveler's Edition - Page 10

CoffeeShop Blues That Inevitable Truth (A True Ghost Story) I was about the age of twelve when I had taken a trip to Delhi along with my parents. My father had a boyhood friend named Mr. Roy who had a grand mansion-like apartment in Delhi we used to stay at. As far as I recollect, the city was really beautiful. The capital of India, nearly fifteen years before, was far more posh, clean and ultramodern than contemporary Kolkata, where I resided. I visited almost all of the ornate, pristine monuments of Delhi like the Qutub Minar, Red Fort, and the other citadels created by the ancient rulers of India. Those places of extreme historical importance seemed to enchant me. I began to form a strong penchant for this place. The first day at that magnificent apartment turned out quite drab. After our return from the tourist spots on the second day my head began to reel and fatigue almost numbed my arms and legs. With blinking eyes and deep sleep fishing in my eyelids, I almost gobbled my dinner and jumped onto my bed. My room was adjacent to that of my parents. I curled myself in cozily on the white pillows and matching bedspread, and fell fast asleep. A sudden gust of chilly wind from the open window rattled my spine and I sat up bewildered, staring blankly at the curtains; swishing to and fro. It was early November and the weather was pleasant. I wondered about the sudden cold wind this early in the season. I mused on the whereabouts of the cold breeze but finding no clue fell asleep. The amber sunlight perforated through the glass windows and swept over my eyes. I woke up bleary. After brushing my teeth and having my breakfast, I again went out to rummage the centers of attraction and spotted a number of forts. It was the third day and as usual after my routine dinner my muscles began to ache, and I fell asleep. 10