“Don’t burst the loud crackers after ten in the night Pinku, there are lot of other firecrackers, they will look very beautiful in dark night.” Granny told him.
“Why granny?” he sulked, “We always saved the loudest ones to burst after midnight, to wake people up.”
“Don’t darling, or else Cracker Whacker will come down from that hill and get you.” she pointed at a hill covered with trees.
“Who is Cracker Whacker?” he snuggled close.
“There was a house on top of that hill… an old man lived there alone, his household helps went up from here, they told us stories about his. He was a nice man but had very frail heart. So he kept away from too much noise….”
“One Diwali night some of the teenagers from this village went up the hill and started to burst the loudest crackers all around his house.”
“Next morning when his servants went up there they discovered his body, he died because of heart attack, ever since that year, if any one bursts a single cracker after ten a strange creature appears and takes him away, he is mostly discovered half dead a couple of days later…”
“Good story.” Pinku giggled merrily clapping his hands.
“Its not a story dear.” Granny vehemently protested.
He sneaked out of the house past midnight, with his saved booty of loudest crackers, went a little distance away from the house and lit up the first one.
the earth shook with its fury.
He saw someone standing right in front of him, his head was almost touching the tree branch, almost as high as two storeys.
He screamed and fainted.
The villagers came running and discovered him lying on the grass, a ghost dangler, part of Diwali decoration dangling from the branch, gently swaying in the wind, grinning, as if enjoying itself.