Hi Steemit Family ,
How many of us love to hear or tell Ghost Stories ? Have you realised that it usually is at night , we just cant help it and as soon as one starts everyone has a ghost story to tell. It can be stories that have been passed down or you yourself have experienced .
At some point in our lives , quite a few of us have experience some form of Paranormal and Supernatural Activity .
When that happens , we start to question our sanity wondering if what we saw or heard was real or our imagination was running wild .
It always helps when we comfort our minds with the possibility of knowing that other people have also had similar experiences and we are not the only ones .
Its a very long Story . I can only tell you the part that I was directly involved in .
I still remember it very clearly as if it happened only yesterday . It was school holidays and I was spending it in my Grand Uncles house . It was an old chinese mansion with lots of rooms and a great big garden to play in . My days there was spent making kites and flying it . We would have fighting matches to see if we could bring down the opponents kites . Play marbles ( if you knocked their marbles out of the ring , you get to keep it ) , spin the top ( its like bay blades but ours were made of wood ) . remember those were the days where we did not have Ipads and our own individual lap tops . It was all out doors and we loved it . We hated being indoor , that was like punishment to us .
(
The kites that we made were very simple . It was like the pink kite in the picture below .
It was on a weekday , remember we were on school holidays so we get to sleep later then our normal bedtime . It was close to midnight and I was watching TV , next to me was my cousin who was a sleep . I could hear a female voice speaking in malay ( bang di-mana kau bang ? Datang -lah , aku tunggu , Dearest where are you ? come to me , I am waiting .)I was watching an english movie so who was specking in malay . As l turned my head towards the sound of that voice , low and behold it was coming out of my cousins mouth who was male. As you can imagine I jump up with a fright and slapped his arm to wake him up n told him what happened .
My poor cousin started crying and told me he had to go to her (Mina) . The hex that Mina put on him was very very strong . The more he resisted her , the worse it got for him . As he got up to leave , I quickly went to inform my grandmother about what just happened . She rushed to where he was and grabbed hold of his arm to stop him from leaving the house . I will never forget the pain my cousin was going through trying to resist the hex . Suddenly there was a strong sweet sickly smell of jasmin flowers in the air , with tears running down his face , he left the house and you could hear a faint female laugh following him . To this day , I will never forget that sickly aroma and that eerie female laugh .
After many year at my sisters place , we were all sitting around and telling ghost stories . I told them what happened to our poor cousin . By then I knew the full story of how it all started . Many years later , my sister decided to include this story in her series of short Grandmother Ghost Stories .
The original title was The Curse Of The Pontianak which I think was a better title
In the story , she explains ...
“… there is a female spirit called the Pontianak akin to the western vampire or ‘White Lady’. The word Pontianak (pon-ti-ah-nak) comes from the Malay phrase ‘perempuan mati beranak’. It refers to women who die in childbirth or worse, die as a result of an abortion. The spirits of these women would be doomed to wander the hereafter, forever seeking their lost babies. In folklore, they would appear as lovely, young girls who either steal babies or entice young men to make love to them in a twisted effort to have another baby.”
“The stories are all set in South-east Asia.”
“In south- east Asia , to tell a Grandmother stories is also to spin a bit of yarn. You take snippets of stories that have been passed around , whispered at family gatherings and stitch them together. If there are gaps , you add a little embroidery.”
“She is passing down stories that have been told to her . stories that she has overheard as the elders gossiped among themselves. Stories that would otherwise be lost and forgotten as the older generations pass away.”
This is a poem written by my Sister SA’YANG :
" When our bodies have returned to Mother Earth,
And our spirits back to Ether ,
Let our wisdom stand the test of time . "
" As long as our children remember our Stories ,
We will never be forgotten ,
And we will never die . "
" Aho ! All My Relations . "
" WALK WITH SPIRIT . "
It can happen anywhere and anytime . Cant wait to hear your experiences or some of you may have as my sister calls them "Grandmother Ghost Stories"
Waiting in suspense and will get the popcorn ready .
Rani