Death of a ghost

He first couldn't believe that he's no more. Everybody seemed to ignore him which was a sure sign. But he could not accept it as it was usual to be ignored during his lifetime.
So it took him a great deal of laborious experiments to arrive at the conclusion that he was a real ghost. Unlike many stories he had heard, he found his new avatar interesting.

1.
He started walking randomly towards the town, still thinking about the times when he was alive. "I could meet them perhaps", he thought with a gleaming hope.

Arriving at a corner, he noticed children playing there with tires and stray rubbish.
"want to talk?", he asked in an eager voice.
They looked at him and smiled. "yes, sure".
Oh, so they can see me!
"What are you doing at this hour of time.. ", he questioned the boy who looked about 12.
"Ah, nothing. just.. doing nothing really", boy chuckled.
he made a move towards them and sat on an empty wooden box.
They chatted about nothing for about 5 minutes.

"What were you doing there in jungle, so late?"
"Well .. don't be afraid.", he took a deep breath.
Boy looked puzzled.
"I am a ghost", he replied without thinking.
the boy stared at him for a full minute and looked disinterested. he started to walk away.
"Hey, don't be afraid of me", he assured the boy.
"Hell, you want me to believe that thing? anyways I'm not superstitious Sir", the boy snorted back without looking at him.

2.

He wandered about the town for some time.
some chawls, few old houses, gutters filled with filth - everything just looked perfect!
Nothing has changed and nothing will change.
"watch out .. what you doing here?", a harsh voice appeared out of nowhere suddenly.
"nothing. just came to see my house" came his cold reply.
"Well then go in and sleep! what are you doing outside!", constable asked with curiosity, which looked out of place for his profession.
"I .. ", He paused for a millisecond. What harm can he do to me now?Let me take my chances.
"I am a ghost", he replied in same cold fashion.
m"Saala, galat time pe mazaak karta hai", constable started from police dictionary.
"I'll put you in jail and then you won't do such nonsense again. Get lost!", muttered the constable and turned away.

He was bewildered. How could they not believe me!
" Hello, I AM A GHOST. I really am one" he yelled back at constable.
The guy turned back."OK. perhaps you are. What is the proof that you ARE a ghost.Go, get one and then talk to me."

3.

He had known this place too well. After all he had spent almost all of his evenings at this chowk.
"Temple, Ah this will be a reminiscence with my past. The pujari should recognize me!", he thought with a hint of satisfaction. How important was the identity crisis now!

"Namaste", he bowed to the old man.
"Do I know you son? Your face looks familiar to me.", replied the old man with suspicious looks.
"but of course swamij! I .. I .. ", he was much surprised to say anything.
"No it can't be you! You were dead...", suddenly exclaimed the pujari with his head falling back.
" I am a ghost, swamiji.. whatever you said was true!", he replied with a strange note of joy in his voice.
"Oh .. son", pujari regained control over him as he glanced at the opportunity."I'll tell your wife and son to do a Pooja here.That should give you salvation soon". The man's eyes gleamed with scene of Pooja and the Dakshina he would get after that.
"Oh, no need swamiji. I like it this way. It's ideal for me, to see world this way", our man jabbed back at the pujari with haste.

" Haramkhor!", pujari let go an unholy word at the holy place- perhaps one for the day."Get lost and be never seen again in these holy premises", were the last words he heard from the pujari.

4.

Now he was tired. But more prominent feeling was of shock and disbelief.
How could they!
No one clearly can imagine how identity crisis can overwhelm a ghost, so we leave him there with his sorrows.

the place he came to was not a well known one, neither it would profit from being one.
It smelled of liqueur and alcohol, drugs and gunpowder. He shuddered at the thought of being there alive. How nice that he was a ghost himself!
Slowly anger creeped in his mind.
Anger, which he had for such people. Anger kept quietly in his unconscious mind when he was alive.
he kicked a bottle in fury. Two men heard it and checked him.
"What's wrong fellow? Need a douse or two?"
He kept staring at them with fixed gaze.
"Hey", said one goon to his chum."Look at him. He's the same guy who died a week ago in the blasts. I knew him! He's a GHOST", he cried in horror and started to run for his life.

"Cut it out. What harm possibly can a common man's ghost do to you!", said the other one with indifference.

And that was the death of the ghost.