Weird hands.

My aunt is an interesting woman. She is hilarious, feisty and also level-headed. She was the diva of her town,known for her sharp wit and devil-may-care attitude,topped up with hints of sarcasm. There you go!  the perfect recipe for a terrific woman! I was her younger sister’s first born,  naturally she took an instant liking towards me.  I became the apple of her eyes (continue to be till this day !). As a young boy of six years I had developed this habit of listening to stories narrated by her every night. Those were the golden days when we had longer summer holidays, which I would spend it with her in my state of origin, Orissa. She lived in Cuttack along with my uncle and her two daughters .

One day, I was bored of simple tales of kings and queens and asked her to come up with something unique. She knew without some new story I was not going to sleep, which in return would give her a sleepless night. My aunty being the tigress that she was (still is!), relished challenges and she was up to the task in no time. She warned me before-hand that this story might lead to me having crazy nightmares, but the six year old me did not care about any repercussions! Without any further ado, she began  the story. The incident happened years ago when my aunt was a little girl. During those days it was a famous tale, which had covered the length and breadth of her town,just like urban legends of today.

One full moon night, four friends decided to go see a late night show of “Sholay” which had released recently. After the show,  the young group was on its way back home. It was getting very e late and they were really tired and decided to take a cab back home. They looked for a while, to no avail. A cold breeze was blowing that night, cold enough to run shivers down anyone’s spine. The full moon enhanced the eeriness of the night, but nothing could scare our motley group of men. Although there was no soul in sight, they searched optimistically for a cab to ferry their tired bodies. They were startled by a strange sight, nearby there was a solitary streetlight and there was a person sobbing painfully.  The face of that person was not visible so the group went closer to inquired about the strange melancholy that had engulfed their fellow human.

No sooner had they approached with an empathetic enquiry “what’s the matter?” the person revealed their face. It was no ordinary sight, the person had the face of a goat and hands had hooves instead of fingers. The boys were petrified by this sight and made a run for their lives. They expected the abominable creature to give them a chase, but strangely enough it did not and when they turned back to check,the devil had vanished into thin air. Our group of merry men were visibly scared and desperately wanted to get home to their cosy beds and blankets. Suddenly out of nowhere a cab appeared and the boys got in, breathing a sigh of relief from their horrific experience.They got chatting with the driver and started narrating their ordeal. As they reached the part about odd hands of the man crying on the street, the driver interjected “what do you mean hooves instead of fingers? Do you mean to imply something like this?” and proceeded to stop the automobile and show his hands to the group.

You won’t believe what happens next”, said my aunt. I replied excitedly “please do not play games with me and finish the story, I can’t wait any longer”. She took pity on me and decided not to play any games and continued “alright darling, I spare you this time”. I was eagerly waiting for the climax. Drawing in a slow breath, taking the suspense to a crescendo she proceeded to show her hands to me.They were by no means any ordinary hands. Her hands had no fingers, but hooves.I wanted to scream on the top of my lungs but simply could not find my voice as I froze to the very spot. “unholy devil, please do not kill me”, I managed with a whimper. She erupted with a demonic laughter and screamed loudly,” I am here to take your soul”. I saw the rage in her bloodshot eyes, which gave a terrifying appearance to her pretty face.

The next thing I remember is lying on my aunt’s lap, her soft hands caressing my face and assuring me that I had just experienced a terrible nightmare.I was even more petrified and tried to free myself from her grasp, expecting her to turn into her devilish avatar the next second. She was surprised by this strange behavior and wanted to know the reason behind it. I proceeded to narrate the entire nightmare to her and she burst out laughing, not the evil one ,rather her regular sweet . "Ohh my poor baby" she consoled me and reprimanded me about my constant demand for horror stories, which were the reason for my constant nightmares.

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