We are not alone in this world

The supernatural—does it really exist? Does spirituality have anything to do with the physical world? When people die, where do they go? Is there more to this world than our physical eyes can see? All these questions were pounding in my mind while my big aunty (my dad's cousin) was staring at the television and watching some Bollywood-made movies. 15-year-old me found the movie uninteresting because of the witches and language that was spoken, which was a bit hard for me to understand.

About half an hour later, the movie was over, and my inquisitive mind made me ask a question that brought out a conversation of a lifetime. The story you are about to read is a true-life story about the supernatural and the physical world.

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Aunty, all this spirit in the TV is fake, right? There is nothing like spirit and magic, right?” She stared at me as she wondered what could have made me ask such a question. She smiled and said to me, “Yes, they are real, and the best part is that I have seen a spirit before.” It was then that I got more interested because there was no time she visited that she wouldn't tell us a story, but this time around the story seems to be a real-life story. Then she started

“After our grandfather passed away (my great-grandfather) in the village, since he was the priest of the village, there are some spiritual rights that must be done when all the grandchildren and children are around. I was staying very far from the village, so all the other grandchildren were around, and everyone was waiting for me and my parents. There was no phone at that time, so we just had to hope that people were waiting since we got the letter that indicated the date. The journey back to the village was so far, which was what caused our delay.

By the time we got to the village, the spiritual rite had started. I saw your dad and his parents already dressed, dancing, and getting instruction from the new head of house priest. It got to our turn, but the oil was still very little, so it was given to my parents. The priest said I was so young and pure that nothing would happen to me. I never understood what they meant until that night, when all of us were sleeping.

Everyone was asleep when I heard the voice of an elderly man crying. I stood up from where I was lying down just to see that everyone else was sleeping. Are you telling me no one could hear the voice of a man sobbing? I got up, walking through the passage, just to see this man in white sobbing. His cloth wasn’t glowing, but yet it felt like it was because I could see faint light around him. A naive little girl like me asked him what was wrong, and he said I wasn’t there to tell him goodbye. I couldn’t understand what he meant, but I told him I was sorry. We spoke for some time, then he said time had gone and he would take me to bed.

He carried me to the room, laid me down, and I went to sleep. The following morning, when the photographer brought the picture of my grandfather, who we had just buried, it was the same man who spoke with me that night.

Since that day, I have believed in the supernatural, and I know we are not alone in this world. The supernatural controls the physical.