Ghost stories from India

The Vessel of Embers

In the village of Malgundi, nestled along the western coast of India, the sea was both a giver and a taker. My father, Raghunath, had been a devout man, a...

The Fourth Room

It was a Tuesday when I decided to visit Mira at her new flat in the quiet suburb of Kothrud, Pune. The building, called ‘Sai Residency,’ was a recent construction,...

The Mango Tree’s Gift

My name is Arjun, and I am a 32-year-old lawyer, living in a cramped apartment in Vashi, Navi Mumbai. But my childhood was spent in a different world altogether—a quaint,...

The Unseen Tenant

I had always prided myself on being a rational man. Ghosts, spirits, the paranormal—these were things for the superstitious, the suggestible, the ones who watched too many horror films. My...

The Weight of Silence

Two years before I met the thing that now lives in my walls, I worked late at the Meridian Data Center, a glass tower that loomed over the industrial park...

The Hollow Hearth

I had spent my whole life laughing at ghost stories, dismissing them as the fanciful inventions of bored minds. I was an engineer, a man of logic and evidence. So...

The Sixth Floor Tenant

The building was called ‘Sunrise Heights’, though the sun rarely touched its grey concrete facade. My parents moved into apartment 6B on a muggy July afternoon, thirteen years ago, when...

The Pale Road

Twelve years have passed since that muggy August night, yet I still wake in a cold sweat whenever a phone rings in the dark. I am Sarvesh, and this happened...

The Silent Passenger

In the summer of 2019, my parents and I lived in a small, isolated house on the outskirts of a town called Harlan’s Hollow. The house was old, with creaking...

The Blue Door

My name is Maya, and I’ve always been a skeptic. Growing up, my grandmother told me stories of spirits that lingered in the old family home, but I chalked it...

The Maroon Wraith

In the autumn of 2008, Meera and her husband Arjun moved into a sprawling three-story house in the quiet outskirts of Jaipur. The building was old, with high ceilings and...

The Hollow Bell

The air in the city had turned sour with the smell of rain and exhaust, but the farmhouse was a world apart. It sat alone in a wide, flat valley,...

The Lily-Grave Vigil

Three summers had passed since I’d last stepped onto Bristol’s damp, grey soil, and now I was back, not for the city’s infamous nightlife, but for a solemn duty. My...

The Third Toe

In the autumn of 2002, my grandmother Lila moved into a small apartment on the third floor of the old Grimsby Mill building, a sprawling brick complex that had been...

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