3 O’Clock at Night

Friends, I am your friend, Disha Darshan Shah Patwa. You must have read many of my stories — romantic ones, tales of betrayal, and even those on social and traditional issues, which you all appreciated a lot. I have written on every subject, even on faith and superstition. But to be honest, I never believed in ghosts or spirits, because I always felt they don’t exist. However, I do believe that souls exist, and so does negative energy, which attracts us toward it. I only accepted this after something happened to me. Earlier, I dismissed such things as mere imagination, but what I experienced that night completely changed my point of view. Even today, I cannot forget that incident — years have passed, but whenever those scenes come to mind, my soul trembles.

After my mother’s death, I was shattered. I had no desire to do anything. It wouldn’t be wrong to say I was slipping into depression, because I loved my mother deeply. I tried everything possible to keep her alive, but in her final moments, she angrily said that her condition was my fault — and then she passed away. She left me with that guilt. Time went on, responsibilities grew, and though I stopped crying, the pain only deepened. To ease my sorrow, I began writing. Slowly, writing helped me overcome depression. People loved my stories, which made me happy. But one night, something happened that changed my life forever.

Around 3 a.m., I had just finished writing in my bedroom. Since it was late, I quickly freshened up, turned off the light, and was about to sleep. Suddenly, my bedroom sliding door began shaking violently, then stopped. At first, I thought it was my imagination due to exhaustion, so I ignored it and lay down again. But it happened again. This time, I was terrified. I sat up and stared at the sliding door — it was shaking on its own, without anyone touching it. I gathered courage, turned on the light, and opened the door. The terrace outside was empty. I convinced myself it was just my imagination and tried to sleep again. But as soon as I closed my eyes, the noise started again, louder than before. I panicked and ran to my father, who was sleeping in the hall. Since he is hard of hearing, he couldn’t hear the noise. I asked him to wear his hearing aid. While he was putting it on, the noise grew even louder. But the moment he wore it, the sound stopped completely. Shocked, I told him everything. He said it was just stress from writing and advised me to rest for a few days. My sister, too, dismissed it as imagination and asked me to stay at her house for peace of mind. But I refused, as I couldn’t write anywhere except my own home.

The next day passed peacefully, but as night approached, my fear grew. By 10 or 11 p.m., I didn’t even feel like writing, though I forced myself. That night, nothing happened, and I felt relieved. But while sitting in the washroom, the light began flickering on and off. After a few times, it returned to normal. I couldn’t understand why these strange things kept happening to me. Whenever I told people, they said I missed my mother too much, and that grief was overpowering me. But I knew it wasn’t just imagination. My health worsened, yet no one believed me. Finally, I went to a renowned astrologer and told him everything. He advised me not to get caught up in such matters, to focus on my career, and to marry soon. Until then, he told me to recite the Hanuman Chalisa twice daily. I followed his advice, and gradually things improved. Strange activities still happened at home, but they never harmed me. Soon, my marriage was fixed. When I told the astrologer, he assured me that nothing would trouble me anymore. Curious, I asked if everything I experienced was just my imagination. He smiled and said that some negative energy or spirit was trying to attract me. Since my house was near a cremation ground and opposite a peepal tree, such forces were drawn there. And because I was mentally weak after my mother’s death and trapped in guilt, those energies tried to overpower me. They target weak people — which I was then. But now, nothing can harm me. He warned me never to walk that path again. His words shook me deeply, but life eventually settled. I got married, and today I even have a child. Yet, whenever I think of that incident, fear grips me.

Even now, whenever I visit my old house, I cannot sleep at night. People may debate whether ghosts exist, but I am certain — souls are real.

हिंदी में सच्ची घटनाओं पर आधारित इस डरावनी हॉरर कहानी को पढ़ें।