This is totally unrelated to anything in MIT or Manipal University. Nor is this about anything vaguely related to this educational town. Well, this is just an English assignment I wrote in school and something I particularly loved. Walking down from behind the dimly lit road behind Academic Block 5, MIT, I glanced upon the spooky building for Printing Technology Students. And this should with excessive exaggeration describe the same..
And there she stood, a majestic creature, but still, worn out, old, dilapidated. She stood tall and mighty, staring out like a ghost in the pale moonlight, staring back with an intimidating glare. To add to the effect of a perfectly real horror movie, the skies had turned dark, as if to please the majesty standing firm, right beneath. The moonlight managed to filter through little pores in the dark clouds, little rays of faint silver making her silhouette light up in an ethereal manner. She was a ghost, a house so old, so ancient …and so ghostly.
The gate lay open, standing strong, with rusty ferrous bars, facing the strong stormy winds of the night. It moved slightly, creaking loudly, spouting high pitched wails like a banshee in tremendous distress. Behind it, lay a vast expanse of an unused garden, a humongous army of weeds, ready to face the war against the stormy night. The hedges were disheveled, unkempt, probably home to an array of insects and birds. Quite nearby, there lay a thicket of old banyan trees, wraithlike, eerie, its hanging roots resembling a cruel witch’s hair, spouting out wickedness, swishing in the stormy breeze. An owl, somewhere in the thicket, gave a loud quavering hoot.
A Herculean flash of light, blinding, electrifying, announced the arrival of the storm, lighting up the house momentarily. A huge bungalow, old, completely in ram shackles. The walls were peeled, blotches of blood red brick showed beneath, some, being covered by a huge infestation of thick, dark, ivy. The windows were dark and opaque, the wooden verandah radiated age and neglect. The air smelled old, and the atmosphere felt damp.
The cool freshness of the night breeze suddenly changed to a damp decomposing smell, very faint, yet in existence. Dark silhouettes welcomed guests, with quilts of dust, and a ceiling of thin glinting strands of sticky cobwebs. Shards of glass from shattered windows lay on a side, a souvenir due to probably a tramp, its blank panes now creaked open and shut due to the stormy breeze. A faint sound of pattering feet echoed all over the place. Obviously, this place was infested by mice and all sorts of inconceivable rodents. As one moved deeper inside, a strange smell of decomposing food infused with the now vividly existent dampness in the air. Seemingly, the last inhabitants of the house had left in a hurry, leaving behind a feast for the household pests.
And there she stood, tall and mighty, yet haunting, in the middle of that dense thicket of vegetation, extinct to the outside world, but still, intimidating and eerie for the unfortunate ones she catered to.
Originally posted as ‘Ramshackle’ at The K-Math Files.