Everyone loves a ghost story—until you live through one. This is not fiction. This is my true ghost experience, something that happened to me as a child and still gives me chills to this day.
It was sometime around 2010. My parents had gone to attend a wedding in another town and told us they’d return the next evening. That night, it was just me, my sister, and my younger brother at home.
We ate the dinner Mom made before she left and watched a movie on TV—and chatted for a bit. Then we went to bed. I was on one side, my sister was in the middle, and my brother was near the wall.
The night felt calm. Too calm. All we could hear was the distant whistle of the Gurkha (night watchman) outside. That sound usually made me feel safe… but not that night.
Suddenly, my brother shouted, “Akka!” We both woke up in shock.
He said, “Something pulled my bedsheet!”
I told him it was probably just the wind coming through the window—trying to calm him down. We moved around—my brother came to the middle, and my sister went to the corner. It took a while, but we all fell back asleep.
Or at least, we tried.
I pulled my bedsheet completely over my head and lay still. That’s when it happened.
I suddenly felt someone sit at my feet on the bed.
No sound. No movement. Just the clear pressure of a presence. Someone—or something—was there. Watching.
I was frozen. I didn’t have the courage to move or uncover my face. But then I did the only thing I could…
I shouted as loudly as I could: “Govinda!”
That name, I believe in gave me strength when I was scared.
As I screamed, my sister and brother woke up. We all ran into the hallway, scared and out of breath. We were so panicked, we forgot the phone in the room.
By then, it was around 4 or 5 AM. We could hear neighbours sweeping their yards and drawing muggu (rangoli) as they started their day.
We ran to a nearby aunt’s house and told her everything. She helped us call our parents. They were deeply worried and returned home early. Even they were shocked by how scared we were.
I still remember that presence at my feet. The fear. The way we ran. And the strange peace I felt after calling out in faith.
To this day, I don’t know what it was—a ghost, my imagination, or something else.
But this remains my true ghost experience, and I’ll never forget it.
