Chapter Six: The Freedomic Halloween

I must have said that I work for a old generic english newspaper house. It is not a very popular job for writers like me but it pays decent. However this decent pay is a difficult achievement. It happens to be so because one has to drill water in the desert for it.

 Oh! You might be thinking what this has to do with the adventures; Well during one such work for the newspaper column I had to gather data about freedom in old dusty archives of ours. A useless business as I might like to call it, unless, ofcourse, a adventurous story come across. Well as you may have guessed I did come across one - The Freedomic Halloween 

The Freedomic Halloween 

Freedom is largely unheard in the noise of imposed constraints,  

And when these constraints lift, a roar of happiness whispers loud.  

This is exactly what happened in Ramanagar,  

When India attained its long-desired independence.

In those days, patriotism was in the air,  

Every single person was Indian, and everything was freedom.  

Of all the people who were Indian, the Sarpanch of Ramanagar stood out,  

For he was not merely Indian, he was, as he described, an "extraordinary Indian."  

No one ever understood why, but everyone agreed.

Other than freedom, another thing popular in Ramanagar was festivals.  

And of course, why should we not celebrate freedom?  

Thought the Sarpanch while disregarding Independence Day.  

He believed they should celebrate Halloween because that is what Americans celebrate, and America is freedom.  

Sense is seldom found in the company of ignorance.

The Sarpanch, adamant in his decision, called the panchayat.  

The panchayat also found the idea very "freedomic."  

Now the only thing remaining was to find out what Halloween is.  

Well, in a small village like Ramanagar, it is very difficult to find answers.  

And on this journey of answers, Sarpanch Sahab met several people:  

The old broken school’s headmaster, the boy from two houses away, the old grumpy lady without teeth.  

But at last, he found the suspicious paranormal expert, Harish.  

It was no wonder the panchayat gave him the contract for the Freedomic Halloween.

Part Two

Harish was an expert, but not in paranormal activities,  

But in the art of defrauding—a conman, some might call him.  

Harish was very pleased by the innocence of the villagers.  

He took a lump sum of money from the panchayat,  

To study the "freedomic" festival of Halloween.  

After much research and an even greater income,  

Harish decided it was best to organize a scary house for Halloween.

Well, Harish, as a "nice" paranormal expert, again took huge chunks of money,  

To implement the "freedomic" festival of Halloween.  

However, Harish was also cheap, so he made—  

A rickety house with paper ghosts and cardboard ghouls,  

Flickering lights, eerie sounds, all meant to fool.  

He cut corners at every turn,  

Filling the place with things that barely churned.

The villagers, unaware, were thrilled and scared.  

The Sarpanch, proud of his "extraordinary" flair.  

But fate had its own twist to share,  

For in the midst of this make-believe scare,  

A stray black cat, curious and sly,  

Wandered into the haunted house by and by.

The cat knocked over a candle,  

Setting the house aflame like a burning scandal.  

But as the fire roared and the walls began to peel,  

Something in that house became suddenly real.  

The fake ghosts seemed to move on their own,  

The cardboard ghouls groaned with a bone-chilling tone.

Once a fake Halloween turned real, while the conman fled,  

For he feared not the ghosts but his fraud.  

Such is the twist of fate, where a fraud became a master of horror,  

Vanishing into the night, never to be seen again.  

And such is the charm of innocence, where Halloween's demonic night  

Transformed into a celebration of freedom's light.