From The Quill of Suranya

"What's so scary about Friday the 13th? So cliché." He murmured, seeing an advertisement in his co-passenger's newspaper. "All mumbo jumbo fed for commerce." The man smiled at his words. "They say spirits roam free on this day." He frowned at the man. "Have you ever seen one? Seeing is believing, sir. All these legends are only to scare people. Spirits don't exist." His co-passenger shrugged and got back to his newspaper, in no mood for a conversation, covering his view from the man on his left. The bus stopped at his designated bus stop. And he got down without sharing more pleasantries with the man, still reading the afternoon news. His co-passenger didn't look up. If he did, then perhaps he would have noticed how he got down, without waiting for the door to slide open. © Suranya

She stopped in her tracks. A feeling of being watched crept in. The alley was dark. And the dim light made shadows on the walls. She paced up her speed, feeling her own heavy breath and heartbeat at her throat. She stopped at the end of the alley with a sigh of relief. What she failed to notice was that someone was still breathing heavily at her neck from all the running. He failed to understand why they all kept running from him. How was he going to prove to his community that humans existed as an afterlife for every ghost? They called him a lunatic. Made fun of him. But the human hunter waited every day in the alley, hoping to catch one human who wouldn't be afraid. © Suranya

You pat me to sleep,  Every time I cry alone.  Your warm hug fills my heart  Every time I fail. You come to me,  In the darkness and silence.  I feel you near me  In every gust of sudden wind.  In raindrops and the smell of roses. They light lamps and pray to God.  They are scared of spirits descending  Tonight, on Chaturdashi.  But the naive men don't know  Some spirits don't even leave.  Do they? ~ Suranya