Chai & Chithi 16 | The Desi Horror Podcast

I have chills. To tell me you went in. That is one of the wildest stories I think I've done. Aren't crows like mischanges of death or something? To think that my nightmares could have any implication or connection to reality is scary. Mad Deshafu. (dramatic music) Hi everyone, welcome to "Change It" here, segment where we tell some of the scariest, most terrifying and haunting stories that you send to us. I'm your host Arran. And I'm Ashwara. If you want to send these stories to us, email them at [email protected]. Arran, I know the stories that our listeners send into us are nightmarish and they give us sleepless nights, but not being able to read and tell our listeners stories for the last six months. That has given me sleepless nights too. So really excited. Like today will be a good night's sleep and so long for actually being able to get these stories out there. You know, a good circadian rhythm, melatonin. The right temperature in your room. And the right scary stories. So with that, let's dive into story number one. Hi Arran. Hi Isha. I'm Prabhav. Lots of love to both of you. My friend and I love your podcast and have never left a single episode of yours. Huge fan of yours. Both of you are explaining the case and speaking skills are brilliant. No offense to Arran, but I would love my story to be narrated by Isha. Well, you know what, Prabhav. That ain't happening. And I thought I liked you, but I don't know. I don't know. I don't know if I like Prabhav. That's really sweet. Oh my God. I feel bad. This was completely random, Prabhav. So we didn't know who this story was going to go to. But breaks my heart. I selected it because I liked it. Yeah. We both love you. Yeah. This story is 100% true and this story is from the previous year when I was in 12th grade. One day after college, I went out for some drinks with my friends. After that, I went home. It was around 7 pm in the evening. I reached home and my dining area comes first at the entrance of the home. As I was opening the main gate, I saw my family having dinner. I was surprised as I was not there at the table yet. And we as a family always started dinner together. As soon as I moved towards the inside, my heart sank. I couldn't believe what I saw. I was a little drunk, so I slapped myself and rubbed my eyes a few times. But what I saw did not change. I saw a young man having dinner with my family, talking with them, who looked exactly like me. I've been drunk quite a few times. I have never experienced that in my life. I mean, face color exactly like mine. It was like he was my twin brother. But I had no twin brother. I stood at my main gate in shock watching a duplicate of mine having dinner with my family. I didn't know what to do. Should I go inside, will he be dangerous? After two or three minutes standing there, I ran out of my house towards the main roast, confused and terrified. I took an auto from there and checked into a hotel. I was drunk and exhausted, so I went to bed with thousands of questions in my head. So many movies I have seen were why I was too scared. Yet I somehow managed to fall asleep. The following day, I woke up and realised I was in a hotel and what I saw yesterday at my home. I picked up my phone, expecting multiple missed calls and more than 10 or 20 messages from my parents, like where are you? Why didn't you come back home last night, etc? But to my surprise, there were no missed calls or messages which confirmed that I was not hallucinating the previous night. I literally saw a clone of mine. I realised there was only one person who could answer all of my questions. God, because I don't know who else can answer that question. But only one person who could answer all of my questions and that was my clone. So I checked out from the hotel and went back home. I slowly entered through the main gate, scared. When I entered, I heard a voice from the back. "What happened? You're supposed to be in college. And why have you changed your clothes?" This was my mum standing near the kitchen. I turned around, I wanted to explain everything to her. But when I realised that duplicate had gone to college pretending to be me, he was following my daily routine. I just made an excuse to my mum and went back to my room. I was relieved that facing that duplicate was postponed until the evening. As I was standing in my room, someone suddenly shook my shoulder and suddenly a bright light came into my eyes and my blurred vision transitioned into reality. This was all just a dream. I saw my dad opening the curtains, letting in the bright light. I was sweating but relieved that it was all just a dream. That was the only dream of mine that felt so real. It was 23rd November that day. I went back to my daily routine and a few weeks passed. Then one day while having dinner with my family, I started telling this story to them. All of them made fun of me, but only my sister was laughing, not my parents. When I was at that part of the story in which I thought that the clone could be my twin brother, I saw a very serious and a bit sad face of my parents. I asked them what happened. They said nothing, but I said something was off. I asked them again and after insisting a lot, they finally told me that I actually had a twin brother. He died from a very high fever when he was only a few weeks old. No one ever told me this. I realized last month was my birthday and I asked his date of death and they said to 23rd November 2002. No. Prabhav. I have chills. That is so scary. As a perpetual nightmare dreamer, to think that my nightmares could have any implication of connection to reality is scary. That is terrifying. I mean, I'm glad I read your story because that is one amazing story. Still doesn't redeem the fact that you wanted Ashwarya to read it. So I don't like you. No, a great story. All right. So you move on to the second story. Let's do it. Yeah. To dear Ashwarya and Aryan, to say that I love your podcast would be an understatement because you both literally helped me when I had no one around me and needed someone to be present. I'm talking about my breakup, of course. Oh, should I get it? I wish I had a podcast duo during breakups. The funny thing is, you guys, we've gone through breakups while we've been producing this podcast and we felt like you've been there for us. That's true. So we don't tell you that because you guys don't have a community segment where we don't have stories. But basically, we have the same dynamic. I found this podcast during the toughest breakup of my life. Mad Deshavu. Hmm. Really? Hmm. Very bad Deshavu. About this moment or that line? Don't know this moment. I'm looking at this. Doing challenge at here in this room. That's very bad. Very bad Deshavu. Oh, okay. I'm going to continue reading. This was a freaky Deshavu. Okay. Anyway, all right. Breakup. Where was I? And that is one of the reasons why you guys hold a special place in my life. I'm also a lawyer by profession. And I'm compelled to state that your ability to convey well-research and accurate case studies is truly commendable. Thank you so much. What sets your podcast over? We're still about over. I like that. What sets your podcast apart, in my opinion, is your approach to providing background information about the alleged perpetrators. This humanizing aspect is a breadth of fresh air in a world where dehumanization seems all too common. It reminds us that as listeners, we must rise above the urge to dehumanize even when the perpetrators themselves may have failed to do so. This to me is what defines our humanity. That's adorable. That's beautiful. Yeah. Can't wait to see how it suddenly gets very unadorable when your story starts. Today, I want to share with you and all the listeners my true account of paranormal activity. But before I take you to room number five, zero one, I would want you to know a little bit about me and my family. My family hails from Old Delhi, or the Good Old Delhi Six. My siblings and I grew up listening to tales of witchcraft, black magic, and rendezvous with poltergeys are very normal childhood. No, I'm childhood, yeah. So, I think if you're in Delhi Six, yeah, I mean, yeah. Yeah. My grandmother, who is no longer with us, used to tell us that there was a sort of curse on our family. And we all seem to be magnets for ghosts. Until the day she passed away, she insisted that whatever presence they had in their old home, they brought it with them to the place where we currently live. Many times we have witnessed random banging noises. Shadows walking past us and the feeling that someone is lying next to us, when in fact, there is no one. The year 2014. Before I decided to become a lawyer, I was hell-bent on becoming an architect and had enrolled myself in an architecture programme on the outskirts of the city of Manesar, Haryana. I distinctly remember it was the 6th of September when I left home to live in the university hostel. When I reached the hostel, I felt this eerie urge to run away and leave the place immediately. My room was on the 5th floor of the building, and like any other horror movie, the lift was not working. This fact is important for the story, because it was precisely the reason why none of the wardens ever climbed up to check on us. That's terrifying. No, I'd rather have a dorm room where wardens don't come in on checkers. Not in a dorm room where you have an eerie sensation and feel no one to run away. You don't want a dorm room without the wardens. Come on. It's the fostering bargain of having a ghost or being able to do whatever the fuck you want to. I'll take doing whatever the fuck you want to with the odd occurrence of Bloody Mary. He's so scared in real life. He's completely lying. That's not what he would pick at. Nonetheless, I checked in. Everyone who's watched Boothbusters see her and do not believe this comment. Nonetheless, I checked in and set my stuff. On my first night in the room, just I was falling into a deep sleep. I felt as if someone had pulled my pillow from beneath my head. I shrugged it off because I was really tired, but it became a regular thing. And when I discussed this with my friends from different rooms, one of my friends who occupied the room right at the end of the corridor said that she felt the same. I changed my mind already. Of course, convinced that something my level in dwelt within those walls, I clandestinely investigated the building, stumbling upon a room on the fourth floor directly beneath mine. You're like that horror movie character who shouldn't be so curious that ends up dead at the end of the room. Just leave. Just leave. Just like, what are your blind kids never get out of? People have dropped out of college for much sillier reasons. You can ask me. Its windows were sealed with newspapers and the door was locked and sealed if you tell me you went in. You shouldn't blame the victim. You have to blame the victim here. You know, walk into. On asking the seniors, I got to know that a student some four years back had taken her life because some professor in the college had sexually assaulted her. There was a bit of calmness in my heart but also a sense of distraught. Returning to my room, I whispered my condolences to the tormented soul. But my words were met with cold silence and the room remained an enigma. I'm usually very skeptical by nature which is why I kept my door locked at all times. I had to shut my window with a towel because there was a dead crow hanging right outside my window and no one came to remove it because the lift wasn't working. It was a Sunday. Wait, aren't crows like messengers of death or something? In folklore. What about a dead crow? I don't know about a dead crow as I cancel out. I don't know. The crow crossed over to the ancestral soul. In so many Bollywood horror movies, like crows are the symbols of just the weird vibes. But I think they've just been stereotyped and I don't think the avian community would particularly like crows being racist against anyway. It was a Sunday and I thought that sleeping a bit longer would not hurt as much. But that changed when I woke up literally choking. I'm not a deep sleeper and I sleep in one position the entire night. That morning I woke up choking on my own hair. I remember having the same length of hair as that of Ashwarya and I woke up with half of them somehow inside my throat. I love the fact that you've been brought into this horror scene. I love it. Because it helps me relate. But that's scary. Desperate for answers. My friends and I gathered in my room. A friend having some knowledge of the occult fashion to make shift to BG board. Only the logical solution. The logical solution and we are not going to blame the victim. Although the victim in this case is like a dumb dumb a little bit. We followed the entire procedure and when we were convinced that we had someone present in the room with us we started asking questions. Since it was a makeshift board, there were only slots for yes, no, enter and exit. We posed mundane questions to establish the authenticity of the supernatural, asking it if it was Saturday, if you were all girls, or if I held a phone. With each response to room grew colder and our dread deepened. Room's getting colder is something people say. Evidence of spirit or banal being there. And usually not like a good spirit. But what do I mean? Driven by an unshakeable feeling that something malevolent lingered, I summoned the courage to ask the entity if it knew who I was. The planchette, trembling like a leaf in the wind, hesitantly pointed to, yes, oh my god. Fearing what I might discover, I inquired if it desired my presence. To our collective horror, the planchette spelled out, yes, panic searched through our veins. With mounting fear, I declared my intention to change rooms to my friends, to my utter astonishment, the planchette vehemently swayed to no. I asked if the entity was in fact the girl from room 402. Even now, as I am writing this, I am getting goosebumps. Honey, I'm getting goosebumps. The planchette moved to no. My friends and I ran for our lives. I sent some of the workers to vacate the room the next day and left the university altogether. It has to be one of the craziest things that ever happened to me. As my friends and I fled my room, we neglected to properly send the malevolence spirit back to its realm. I have since learned that the fifth floor corridor, particularly room number 502, has become a nightmarish epicenter of paranormal activity. The university has sealed off the entire floor, contemplating its removal to exercise the sinister presence that haunts it. We were but naive 17-year-olds then blind to the depths of the supernatural. I now understand the inescapable power of these entities and I shudder at the thought of anyone who would attempt to make contact with the unholy beyond. I would urge to think twice before indulging in anything related to the occult. Stay safe. I just called M a dum-dum, but I mean fantabulous writing. Incredible, incredible writer. Yes, you guys may not know, but the college that I was in back in the US, my freshman year, so my first year of college, I was on the topmost floor of our dorm building and it was called the Gelston Hall and it was named after Mary Gelston, one of the first females to go to college over there and the floor was that allegedly Mary Gelston's spirit roamed the halls of that floor specifically, so the topmost floor in the building never experienced anything, but if I was to experience something, wouldn't have just left the college, I would have left the country ran, ran for my life for sure. All right, it's my turn now to tell you guys the two stories that I've picked for this session. Yeah, I hope one of them is like, I wish I ran red. I know that's not going to happen, but it would be some vindication. I don't think you would select a story which says that, at least, you know, I selected it knowing that I'm going to be embarrassed a little bit. Sure. All right, moving on. The first story by me starts like this. Hello, Rana Nishwarya. I would like to begin by saying something that I believe most listeners would relate to, whenever I listen to the Desi Crime podcast, I feel as though I'm sitting there with my friends, you guys discussing grave topics and intermittently cracking jokes. You all have a knack for making your fans feel at home and cozy. So here I am writing to you about something paranormal that happened to me more specifically to my friend. So me and my friend are postgraduate students and I had to spend a good part of our semester doing field work. We had to live in close quarters to the slums. As the work we did had a lot to do with helping out the underprivileged. Living with them helped us build empathy to better device remedial plans for them and gave us a first hand experience of the tough lives they live. This incident took place a couple of months ago when me and my two friends decided to rent a little flat in the urban slums so we could work closely with those nearby. Now something about such a neighborhood is a lack of sanitation and private washrooms. We tried to find a flat with a restroom but the most we could find was some enclosure in the house where we could only go number one if you know what I mean. This implied that for our other business we had to rely on public washrooms. The public washroom was big with multiple stalls yet there were always people outside each stall waiting to use the bathroom next with a bucket in hand and the smell would drive us all crazy. But I would still prefer to queue up to use the stalls as opposed to going in the VR's when the bathroom stalls were vacant. Using the public washroom at at night always gave me the heebie gps so I tried to avoid it at home. as much as possible. I mean it's the coming together of two horrid things, right? The smell of an Indian public bathroom. Yes. Coupled with spirits. Which tend to make places smell worse. Smell worse? Yes, I agree. Yeah, I'm broke. Nobody thought that public washrooms could be. What kind of a disgusting ghost is haunting that? Let's find out. Yeah. My friend, on the other hand, is the poster child for a skeptic fearless don't give two fucks free spirit. She had no qualms in using the public washrooms at night. But that would change soon. One dawn around 4am, she got up to go to the public washroom. After finishing what she had to do, she closed the door behind her and began to leave when someone called her. Hey. The text here says, a shook shook. And then in the bracket, it says, this is my best attempt at the Indian Onomatopoeia of someone calling someone. So that's what I'm guessing it sounded like. Exactly. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. OK. Right. It sounds like a horrendous ghost, which are cheap ghosts living in dirty water. Yeah. She turned to where the voice was coming from and found that someone was calling her from outside the window. She could see her hand. Thanks for the sound effects, Arun. The friend could see her hand waving at her and then asking her to come closer in a come-hither fashion. Please don't go close. Being the bad-ass, she is. She laughed at first. Thinking it must be the neighborhood boys playing a prank on her. No. But then in the next moment, her stomach sank. You see, this public washroom was actually too storied. And she was actually on the upper floor. There was no way a human hand could reach that height to wave at you. The moment she realized this, she ran as fast as she could. As soon as she reached a house, she burst out crying, threw up. And later in the day went on to develop a high fever. It was astonishing to see such a strong spirit, breaks her devastatingly to the point. She had begged us to vacate the house and leave for good. On her insistence, we ended up moving out of the slums. To this day, she refuses to go into detail about everything that happened and lives in fear to a certain extent. And I, on the other hand, have strengthened my resolve and my rectum to control whoops at night forever after love, SR. Yeah, using a bathroom at night. That's all the question. I will now forever be scared. You guys, with every story, give me a new fear I never actually had. So now, using a washroom late at night. Let's see. Let's see the fear the next story gives you. Yes, let's see. The next story begins like this. Hi, Ashwarya and Arran. I hope this email finds you in the best of health and life. You too. My name is S, and I'm 22 years old. I came across your podcast after knowing about the burari case. And since then, I've been hooked. You guys have made my daily two-hour commute bearable and exciting. I cannot describe those days when I've scrolled down to see if there is any of your episodes that I've missed by mistake. But alas, the plate sign on each of the 98 episodes released till date adds to my dismay, but makes me wait for Saturday. Or as Arran said, they see day much more eagerly. That's adorable and we're so glad to be back. So, let's start with the story. This story happened about 10 years back when I, along with my family, moved into an army accommodation in the city of Kolkata. Initially, my dad lived alone in this house. While me, my mother, and younger sister were busy packing our life packet Mumbai to move to Kolkata. Completely relate. My father is an army personnel. Hence, this was not the first time that we were given army accommodations. Hence, I had my quality assurance glasses on to scan each corner of the house for the standards I set after staying in so many areas. - Is that something you did? - I think I was really young. - Did I anti-do that? - I bet she did, but also it's very little. You can do once you do get a house. So, I think a part of you is kind of, okay. - For the most part, they're clean, you know, then I think every other army officer is chill. But yeah, once you get one, you kind of get one. - What would our civilians know? - Yeah, nothing. - Libyans. - Talk to the hand. But there was something about this house. It was huge with 3.5 bedrooms, a really long hallway and much more. - What's 3.5 bedrooms? - I think like maybe a much smaller bedroom without a washroom, like without enough space for like a full desk, something to that. - Like half your body can sleep? - What's it's wrong? What's it's not 3.5 bedrooms? - Not half your body, but like. - It's like four bedrooms, but a small bed. - Like a much smaller bedroom. - It's called a study. - No, it describes it like that. It's a three BHK, like there's no space for a study. - There is no 3.5 BHK either. So it's either a four BHK or three BHK or three bedroom in a study. There, I've never heard a three and a half bedroom. Unless you are me people. - No, I don't think there is a specific 3.5 bedrooms in the army, point being I understand what S is trying to say over here, just catch the drift. - Okay. - There was something about this house. It was you to 3.5 bedrooms, a really long hallway and everyone in the family loved the house and they soon settled in. I being the eldest kid asserted dominance by announcing that I get to pick a room for myself as I am older, also relate. - Relate, really? - But no matter how much dominance I asserted, I was too scared to sleep alone in the room, also relate. (laughing) Hence the room I chose was more like an office to me, spending only morning hours in the room and leaving by the evening. I chose the room that is at the parallel end of the house. Let me explain, let's say that you enter the house, straight ahead of you through the narrow hallway, you can see the door to my room. Just beside my room towards the left was my parents' bedroom and towards the right, little ahead was a spare room which my dad used as his office. The head of that was a spare room that we used as a store room. You move a little more ahead than you enter the living room that's attached to the dining area, which again is attached to a kitchen, et cetera. After a few months, we had a guest over at the house. My parents gave the guest my room to use. Let's call this guest, Ravi Amkel. - Imagine if his name was actually Ravi. And she's just like, this is her, yeah, I'm kind of protecting her. - I'm gonna be anonymous and cool, but no, he was actually Ravi. - Now let me explain my room. When you enter towards your left, there is a small bed. Again, towards the left side of the bed is my study table, which is positioned in such a way that it touches the windows so that I could have the best reviews while I studied. At around 2.30 AM that night, Ravi uncle woke up after feeling quite chilly. When he opened his eyes, he could see that he was floating on the bed. At first, he couldn't comprehend what's happening, but he was about three to four inches above the bed floating. He anxiously looked around to see a dark, black figure standing in front of the study table in my room. After staring at the figure for a good five seconds, he fell back onto the bed. Ravi uncle rushed out of the room. The noise made my dad wake up. He went to be with Ravi uncle who narrated him the entire story. However, my dad never shared the story with any of us. Now let's fast forward to a year when my parents were hosting a stayover/nightover for three families in the house as my dad got posted out of the city and it was our final night at the house. In one of these families was my friend, let's call her Disha. What if she was actually named Disha? She's coming up with good anonymous day. People come with XYZ and you're like, what if people just have a yearning desire to have people in their life with a specific name? Like I really want someone in my life named Disha. You do want a Disha? No, I don't. Oh, okay. I was like, that's very weird. No. I don't. I mean, yeah. But you know the names I have, I want to give my daughter and something. Yeah, I feel the same way. Like any names are really like our names. I don't want a random to just pop up. Yeah, sure enough. Okay, so Disha. Disha. Disha was my age. We connected a lot at the mere age of a seven grader, which is around like 12 to 13. Because Disha would be with me throughout the night, I decided that we could both share the room and I can finally experience sleeping in my room at night. Disha and I watched movies on my laptop, ate snacks and soon fell asleep. Until 3 a.m., when I woke up to find that Disha was not in the room with me. For a moment, I could feel chills down my spine but I blamed it over my imaginative mind and quickly ran to my parents' room to spend the rest of the night there. Maybe it was due to the sleepy drowsiness that I did not think about Disha and straight away fell asleep between my parents. Next morning, I asked Disha, "Hey, did you leave in between the night?" Disha said, "I woke up in between and didn't feel like sleeping there anymore." I responded, "What do you mean?" Hesitantly, she stood in front of me while her parents called her from behind to get in the cars so they could leave for home. Okay, never mind, I thought to myself while bidding goodbyes to her and the other families. By the evening that day, I called her up after finding her daily diary in my cupboard and that's when she said those words that sent chills down my spine. She said, "S, it likes to watch. It likes to watch by the window." - Fuckin' it. this is when my brain connected what i heard ravi uncle telling my dad while trying to catch his breath it just watches after the phone call i urged my dad tell the incident with ravi uncle in detail and do not hold back any details that's when my dad told me the story as i described it earlier dad even had his own points to add while dad lived in the house alone he could hear a tupperware falling down late at night not from the kitchen but from my room but my dad never made anything of it he blamed it on his need to get more quality sleep now that i think of the incident i'm thankful that my dad actually withheld the details because i would not have been able to live normally in the house if i knew the details and since the stayover was the final day of us at the house we've never looked back since then i think about those hours of the day when i would lock my door and spend hours in that room does this mean it was watching me all the time with that we've come to the end of my story i hope you enjoyed it enjoyed it i'm scared shitless like it watches no no it just watches i'd rather you do something yeah then just watch me post as me take my body but please that's really scary yes that that's really scary i think the ending today is directed more to us yeah stay safe stay yep stay doubly safe yeah stay crazy yep yep don't get too crazy though and stay desi i distinctly don't know if you like what we do here desi studios and absolutely love what we're wearing today this is merch you can go buy all for yourself you can buy this desi crime merch in our youtube store on the link down below at cut up merch keep the engines at desi studios rolling so we can pair videographer right behind the camera to make these amazing episodes just for you