It was a bitterly cold evening.

Cocooned under layers of warm clothes, I strolled on the terrace of my apartment. Usually, on such occasions, I connect with friends and relatives- for some gossip, some catching up, some banter. That day I tried reaching out to Aman, my childhood friend. And though the signal was ‘weak’, I used hushed tones- in deference to those buried in the graveyard adjoining the residential complex where I live- we share a dilapidated wall; a gentle nudge and it can collapse like a pack of cards.  The interred and I are good neighbors- peaceful coexistence being the key to our cordial relationship.

When, after trying a few times, there was no response from Aman, I walked towards the door that opens into my apartment, only to be frozen in my tracks, as a haunting voice called out:

“Hi!!!”

I checked the screen of my handset- there was no message, no missed call. Scared, I looked around – there was no one to be seen.

‘Who is this?’ I muttered under my breath.

“It is me, Aman!!!”.

“What? Where? You didn’t respond to my call”.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself; I live in the grave you look at every day”.

Startled, sweat trickling down my brow, despite the intense cold, I retorted:

‘Is this a prank? Who is hiding behind the bushes? Come out, or I will call the cops.”

‘Why are you creating such a ruckus.’

‘Who? Me?? fraudster, how dare you talk to me like that.’

‘Mr. Malhotra, you are taking this to the extreme!!!’

“Oh!! You know my name as well?”

“Yes! Aren’t we good neighbors, albeit a bit snoopy at times.’

‘My ghosh!!  So, you are a wayward ghost? You want me to believe that? Do You?’ I mocked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“That depends on you, whether you want to believe it or not; but don’t forget that you have mauled me since the beginning of civilization and subjected me to so much misery.’

‘Me? How dare you accuse me of such misdemeanors?’

‘Don’t sound so offended, please!!! You know the truth!!!’

‘Aman, Peace!!! Oh!!! Haven’t you been around for so long, living rather comfortably, and I am sure will continue to do so in the time to come!!!’

‘Mr. Malhotra, you are talking on my behalf, without understanding as to how I am being bled, with a thousand cuts.’

‘Wait! Wait- I am doing nothing of that sort.”

‘You are,” Aman said in his soft, but firm voice, ‘With so much hatred, greed, anger- Peace doesn’t stand a chance to live peacefully.’

‘But then, no journey is without pitfalls – even for us humans.’

‘That is the trouble- my existence depends on you; I have no control over my destiny.’, Aman went on tearfully.

‘I have always stood by you, for you!! Haven’t I?’

‘But has it served any purpose?’ he countered.

‘I have limitations?’ I replied curtly.

He went on, ‘Even if the pogroms, ethnic cleansings and wars which you indulge in with such enthusiasm, as if there is no tomorrow, stop forthwith, the toxic fires raging in your minds will never douse.’

Exasperated with the direction the conversation was taking, I looked for an escape route, a closure, wondering as to who would take the first step. Mercifully, it was Aman- but not before he made a scathing indictment of my pusillanimity.

‘I pity you, Mr. Malhotra- you have become so weak that you can’t stand by my side, or even for yourself.’

‘Humm!! That is very rude,’ I said with bristling anger, aghast at the attack on my character.

‘I didn’t want to offend you; but your blatant intrusion and stubbornness has irked me no end.’

‘How was I to know that there is a ghost lurking in my backyard.’

‘So be it, but next time you talk to your friends, look for a different place, and ensure that Peace is not disturbed.!!!’

There was complete silence after this; the evening had given way to night- a thick fog was beginning to spread across the landscape. Slowly, I retreated to the security of my house-but later I kept shuffling in bed – fighting a fierce battle to seek answers for the cause of my weakness.