In the early 90s we used to have a lady co-worker whom we know well since we all share the same crammed office spaces above Khidmat Supermarket, near what is now the PETRONAS complex in KK. Sadly she died during childbirth but the baby survived. About a year later, I and my office buddy were the last people to leave the darkened and deserted office. As we passed a certain door, suddenly my friend started to walk briskly past me and going for the exit while rubbing his arms as he was cold. Me? I took my normal pace, turned off the last lights and locked the doors.
Later in the parking lot, he asked me, “Didn’t you feel anything just now in the office?”
“Gee, I saw a ghost. She was standing by the Accounts door, by the office plant. It was Maria. I couldn’t see the face because she was looking down the floor, and I could not see the feet too.”
“I didn’t see anything.”
“You passed her shoulder to shoulder.”
Holy Shit! My friend showed his goosebumps all over his arms, and tried to rub them down. Now, my friend is no ignorant smuck; he reads Proust, does a mean AutoCad, and although a buddist, can quote from the Bible better than many christians, and have seen off 3 kids to Canadian graduate schools. He is also a helper in a tapikong temple and he sees dead people all the time. He says that people get sick when ghosts latched on to them, and people are most suseptible when their “life’s candle” are at their lowest flicker. The sickness starts when the ghost follow you around. A really sick person, he says, he have seen the being so latched on to the victim that they look a superimposed photograph. Eeeeh, scary!
The second story is a first-hand experience related to me by my late dad. Now, my dad was not a loud, attention-grabbing, always-pull-your-leg type of guy so I have no reason to believe he was bullshitting when he related the following story.
Years ago in my kampong there was only one gravel (and in rainy season, more mud than gravel) road that traverse the place. If the villagers need to go to other directions, they have to follow footpaths or the padi fields bunds. Now these bunds are so narrow that people can only walk single file. If there is another guy walking towards you, one have to step down to the muck that was the padi fields to give way.
One day, my father took his leave from a feast to go home. The time was dusk, just when the last rays of the sun bathed the fully grown rice stalks. He had a companion with him—an old lady who begged him to accompany her because she was afraid of walking in the dark alone. He also knew that she had the sad gift of able to see souls and dead people and so he was happy to accomodate her.
Well, whaddayaknow? As they were crossing the rice fields, suddenly the old lady start making noises like “eheeeh eeeheh eeeheh” and acting scared. She hurriedly pulled my dad down to stand calf-deep in the mud and among the tall padi stalks. My dad wanted to know what was this all about but the old lady only continued to shiver and make noises. After a while, they went back up the bunds and continued their journey. Later, when they reached the village, she told my father that she have seen the tombiruo (soul) of someone. She told my dad who that person was and predicted that he will not be long of this world. True enough, 3 days later the guy passed away.
So there you are—2 ghost stories. As a rule I am leerly of stories if they are hearsay but in these cases, the related experiences were straight from the horse mouths.