A DIY kit to a ghostly night
Vikram Bhatt, the silver-haired Bollywood director, recently made his television debut. Bhatt, as you know, is a purana premi of the horror genre and that’s what he has brought to late-night TV viewing: Haunted Nights, on Sahara One.
The stories are routine: Pret aatmas skulk about, waiting to enter homes and bodies. Anything new can arouse their interest — family shifting into a new house, especially in the hills, and especially without a proper greh pravesh puja, or the arrival of a bahu, doll, darban, vagehra, vagehra.
According to Bhatt and his Haunted Nights, the DIY stuff to keep pret aatmas away is simple: All houses must be vaastu-fied — pret people, you see, are finicky aesthetes and unsightly interiors, especially silly direction of beds, ugly ceramic frogs and cheap crystal balls put them off and they don’t deign to spread their aatank in such surroundings; second, don’t bring home random stuff lying on the road, by a tree or under the ground.
Going by Haunted Nights, it’s easy to tell if bhoots and bhootnis are flitting about your house: Be alert to any hulchul in cupboards, bin mausam mist, fluctuating bulbs, Godji’s diya going off, bats circling in your living room, nimboos turning black, cats purring while broiling themselves on the kitchen burner.
The purpose of Haunted Nights is not just to scare us, but also to prepare us, for bhootdom. I drew many important lessons from it. So, for example, if a bhootni does decide to inhabit you, as happens often in Haunted Nights, try and look at the bright side: You can rotate your head 360 degrees, heat/freeze liquids, break furniture, send people flying by just staring at them.
Unfortunately, though, there is a downside as well. All this bhootni-giri takes a toll on your looks. But whether you are from this world, the netherworld, or lurking in between, there is no reason that perfectly groomed women should let themselves go when they become chudails. So do keep a vanity case handy, stocked with all-season chapstick, nail cutter and filer, under-eye nourishing cream and a spray-on hair conditioner.
The other concern humans who turn into pret aatmas have is their voice. All that screaming, shouting, issuing dire warnings followed by evil laughter isn’t good for the vocals, so pop some honey-flavoured lozenges and try and gargle before you go hang upside-down.
My final tip, and this one really is an important etiquette issue, so pay attention. Once you have turned into an angry aatma, your diet will mostly consist of raw meat. But all that biting and bloody mouth is revolting. So I suggest that in your free time you practice the art of sushi making. Humans can also be chopped, julienned and sculpted into presentable California Rolls. And I’m sure they’ll taste as good, with a bit of miso made out of mommy-in-law, of course.
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