My father had a nervous breakdown when I was ten years or so, our life changed for bad thereafter because my mother was a simple hearted housewife, even during our teenage years we rarely obeyed her, that simple minded.
She relied more on us than we did on her. When we were in Danapur my eldest sister got a job and my mom sent me to live with her, I lived with her for the next few years and she totally screwed (almost) my academic career but that is another story, then in 1985 I returned to Burdwan to live with my mother, she hated it but I forced my way in my rightful home.
When I came to live there I was absolutely terrified of one thing- ghosts! being hyper imaginative I imagined them everywhere.
Now, just imagine a chicken like that living in a two storeyed old house, where bedrooms are on the first floor and almost every thing else- kitchen, toilets are on the ground floor! To add up, the house is surrounded by huge trees, I don’t know if you have noticed it but coconut and black palm trees look quite spooky in darkness. Well, they did to me, and the crème de la crème was the power-cuts! Back then there were no emergency lights or generators, power cut meant pitch darkness and fumbling for matchsticks and candles.
I used to dart downstairs whenever these power-cuts caught me alone, upstairs (read as quite frequently) in dark! 🙂 That used to be a few yards hurdle in absolute darkness, avoiding the furniture and other things…