Whenever a passing wind blew,
The sound of the front doors two
Made such a screeching noise
That terrified all the neighbors.
The house full of cobwebs,
And the jumping jolly rodents,
Were the sole occupants
Of that haunted house.
As a love-failure girl, teenaged
Years back committed suicide,
They dared not go near
That house out of fear.
A government doctor posted
To that remote village needed
A separate isolated house
To reside with his spouse.
He got that house cleaned,
All the doors well greased,
The walls colorfully painted,
And on a good day occupied.
By the dead of night, one day,
A sound in the front hallway,
Of someone walking he heard.
But seeing none went back to his bed.
In the medical college he studied,
How many dead ones he dissected?
He wasn’t afraid of any ghost
That, he believed, didn’t exist.
At the Doctor’s courage, they admired.
“The ghost fled out of fear,” they said,
“For the Doctor’s knife that tore the dead
Can even cut the ghost of the dead.”