Some of us wanted to test our nerves, to check out the real from the eerie. That winter night seemed sinister and spine-chilling. Young and `bold' we wanted to explore it. And so our car pulled up near the place.

Deepa was the first one to step down from the car. We were in awe as she led the way. Did she have nerves of steel? ``He is there, yeah, he is there,'' she screamed. The rest of us held on to each other's arm. With a pounding heart and numbed senses, I gathered all the courage that I could. I saw a figure wrapped up in a shawl, sitting on the steeple of that house. I ran for the shelter of the car and with a lot of team spirit, the others joined me.

On the way back there was silence. Too shocked to speak a word, terror got the better of me. That night the scene kept revolving in front of my eyes and I couldn't sleep. Inside me, I could hear a voice, ``Ghosts are seen by evil-doers.'' I had been reared on this belief that ghosts do not exist for an honest person. Why should I be scared? I had to find the answer.

The more I thought of that spine-chilling incident, the more cynical I became. I was hit by an idea. I decided to check out that place in the afternoon. I expected broad daylight to reveal the truth for me and to restore that childhood belief. I declared this plan of action to my friends.

Deepa tried to dissuade me. But as I stuck to my guns she finally burst out laughing. ``Arre yaar woh toh chimney hai!'' In the night the broken chimney looked like a figure. Deepa said that it was a tradition of playing this joke on friends. The nail-biting experience was over with this much-needed revelation. After all, ghosts and honesty do not go along well!