It was the month of April
Was in grade seventh or eighth
Spending summer holidays
With my mischievous cousins
In my ancestral home
One night making me
Scary and neurotic
Jingling sound of anklets
Woke me from my sleep
That sound climbing upstairs
Nearing to our bed where
Me and my cousin slept
Waking her from her sleep
With a fear on her face
Pale with yellow and red

Moving towards us rapidly
With a aim to harm us
Closing our eyes tight
Holding our hands together
Heart beating faster like a cheetah
Becoming speechless
Trying to call out louder
Someone to help us
But was in vain to do so
Came out my voice
Just to reach my mother
Came running to us with
A fear and looking worried
Hugging her with tears
Running downstairs like a lightning

Narrating the nightmare
In the morning to granny
Heard an ancestral story
About the jingling of anklets
In excitement was she
Annotating about Gods
Walking through the streets
Their legs with anklets
And hands with iron chains
Protecting the people from
The darkness and evils
Lucky are those who can
Hear that Holy sound
With an innocent smile
Felt how lucky we are !