It was an exciting day for my grandmother and her family. After years of planning and saving, they had finally built their dream bungalow in Nashik. She, along with her five sisters and one brother, had worked hard to make this home a reality. To celebrate, they hosted a grand housewarming party, inviting friends, neighbors, and especially their aunts.
Among the guests was an aunt known for her uncanny ability to sense the unseen. The moment she stepped inside the house, she hesitated. Her face stiffened, and she glanced around uneasily.
“Something is here,” she murmured.
The family laughed it off. “Come on, it’s a brand-new house! There’s nothing here,” they reassured her. No one took her words seriously.
That night, one of the aunts decided to stay over. She was given a cozy room on the first floor. As midnight approached, she awoke feeling thirsty. Stepping out of her room to fetch water, she noticed a small figure standing at the end of the hallway. A little girl, no older than four or five, stared at her with wide eyes.
“Yethe ya…” (“Come here…”), the girl whispered in Marathi.
The aunt, though startled, felt an inexplicable pull. She walked closer and found herself engaged in a long conversation with the child. The girl spoke sweetly, asking simple questions about the house and the family. This encounter repeated for two more nights. On the third night, the girl made a peculiar request.
“If you give me a frock, I will be very happy,” she said, her voice filled with longing.
The next day, puzzled yet compelled, the aunt bought a beautiful frock for the little girl. That night, as expected, the girl appeared again. When the aunt handed her the frock, the child’s face lit up with joy. She twirled around, showing off her new dress.
“How do I look?” she asked.
“Beautiful,” the aunt replied with a smile.
At that moment, the girl gave one last twirl and vanished into thin air.
The next morning, the shaken aunt shared everything with the family. As she described the girl, my grandmother’s father listened intently. His face turned pale.
“During the construction of this house, a tragedy occurred,” he finally said. “One of the workers lost his young daughter right here in this room.”
The description matched perfectly. A chill ran through the room as everyone realized the truth. The girl had never left—she had been waiting, longing for something as simple as a new frock.
From that day on, the family believed that they had unknowingly built their home over a sorrowful memory. Yet, after the aunt’s gesture, the girl never appeared again. Perhaps, at last, she had found peace.
Narrated by: Aadi
Location: Nashik, India
Time Period: N/A
Credit: http://www.youtube.com/@Hoezaay