Bizarre Conversations With My Dad
I was talking to a friend today and for some reason the subject steered to fathers. She asked me what a typical conversation with my dad was like, so I gave her some examples.
Dad : There’s a ghost in your bathroom.
Me : (Blink.)
Dad : Don’t worry. It’s harmless. I just thought you should know.
Me : WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS?!!
Or
Dad : Before you buy the flat, bring a cat into the house.
Me : (Wonders where to get a cat) Why?
Dad : Because if there’s a ghost in it, the cat will freak out.
Me : !!!!!
My dad is the kind of person who believes in things that cannot be explained away by science like restless spirits, feng shui, talismans and charka alignments. Living in a part of the world that is deeply rooted in superstition seems to provide a solid foundation for his beliefs.
When I was 9, I stumbled upon his stash of T. Lobsang Rampa books and found myself inducted into the world of astral projection, third eyes and auras. I think my dad is the reason why I am subconsciously drawn to the paranormal / urban fantasy genre and why all my WIPs seem to revolve around things that are unexplained.
The first house I lived in was an old two-storey building made of wood. It had five rooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, an outhouse and plenty of yard space. Years after we’ve moved out, my dad told me that the house was haunted. Being in my rebellious phase, I rolled my eyes and challenged him : if it was haunted, then how come I never saw any ghosts? He patiently explained that because there were so many of us living there, our positive energy far outweighed the ghost’s negative energy, thus the ghost was kept at bay. There were 11 of us living in the house at the time.
A few years back I ran into an ex-classmate. At some point down the line, our old house had passed down to her family. She told me that the house was haunted. She related how there would be mysterious footsteps late in the night and that they could sometimes hear a woman crying. I asked her how many people were living there. She told me 5.
Some day I will base a character in one of my WIPs after my dad but in the meantime he is a handy person to have around in the event of a zombie apocalypse or if you have an ectoplasmic squatter in your bathroom.
Oh and in case you’re wondering, my bathroom is currently a ghost-free zone.
Dad : There’s a ghost in your bathroom.
Me : (Blink.)
Dad : Don’t worry. It’s harmless. I just thought you should know.
Me : WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS?!!
Or
Dad : Before you buy the flat, bring a cat into the house.
Me : (Wonders where to get a cat) Why?
Dad : Because if there’s a ghost in it, the cat will freak out.
Me : !!!!!
My dad is the kind of person who believes in things that cannot be explained away by science like restless spirits, feng shui, talismans and charka alignments. Living in a part of the world that is deeply rooted in superstition seems to provide a solid foundation for his beliefs.
When I was 9, I stumbled upon his stash of T. Lobsang Rampa books and found myself inducted into the world of astral projection, third eyes and auras. I think my dad is the reason why I am subconsciously drawn to the paranormal / urban fantasy genre and why all my WIPs seem to revolve around things that are unexplained.
The first house I lived in was an old two-storey building made of wood. It had five rooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, an outhouse and plenty of yard space. Years after we’ve moved out, my dad told me that the house was haunted. Being in my rebellious phase, I rolled my eyes and challenged him : if it was haunted, then how come I never saw any ghosts? He patiently explained that because there were so many of us living there, our positive energy far outweighed the ghost’s negative energy, thus the ghost was kept at bay. There were 11 of us living in the house at the time.
A few years back I ran into an ex-classmate. At some point down the line, our old house had passed down to her family. She told me that the house was haunted. She related how there would be mysterious footsteps late in the night and that they could sometimes hear a woman crying. I asked her how many people were living there. She told me 5.
Some day I will base a character in one of my WIPs after my dad but in the meantime he is a handy person to have around in the event of a zombie apocalypse or if you have an ectoplasmic squatter in your bathroom.
Oh and in case you’re wondering, my bathroom is currently a ghost-free zone.