The Ghost of the Letter Box

If you ever visit Seventh Street in Sukh Nagar, you will find nothing extraordinary there. It is an ordinary street lined with large houses whose gates open onto the road. Old trees and plants grow in front of the houses. On the wall of one house, a bougainvillea vine spreads its branches, blooming with pink flowers. Beneath that wall stands a red letter box. The vine bends over it gently. These days, the letter box is rarely used, but years ago, people used to drop many letters into it.

It was during those days that a ghost arrived there. Earlier, the ghost lived in an abandoned house but was now searching for a new place. He liked this quiet street and decided to stay. During the day, he hid among thorny bushes and slept, but at night he wandered up and down the road. When awake, he watched people passing by, vendors calling out, vehicles moving, and letters being dropped into the letter box.

After some time, the ghost grew bored. He thought of scaring people but rejected the idea, as he was a kind-hearted ghost who disliked causing pain. Instead, he decided to play harmless tricks. One day, he hid inside the letter box. Whenever someone dropped a letter in, he lightly touched their hand. Startled, people pulled back and nervously looked inside. Sometimes he tossed the letter back out, making people think it had slipped. This continued for days until even this mischief became boring

Then the ghost discovered a new amusement—reading letters. As soon as someone dropped a letter into the box, he would take it out and read it. He found great pleasure in these letters, even though they contained ordinary human matters—news of safety, weddings, worries, and requests.

One letter particularly caught his attention. A woman named Zarina had written to her brother Hamid, requesting the forty thousand rupees he had borrowed six months earlier. Reading it, the ghost muttered that expecting repayment of a loan was foolish. Days later, another letter arrived from Zarina, followed by a third, each more desperate than the last. The ghost mocked the situation, concluding that debt ruins relationships.

Curious about Hamid, the ghost decided to visit him. The address was in a nearby city. The next day, the ghost flew there and easily entered Hamid’s house unseen. He observed a comfortable household—children, a hardworking wife, and no sign of poverty. Hamid ran a clothing shop and seemed financially stable, yet he avoided helping his sister.

The ghost followed Hamid to his shop and saw business improve in the evenings. Back home, Hamid freely spent money on ice cream for his children and gifts for his wife, while continuing to ignore his sister’s letters. This angered the ghost.

Deciding to intervene, the ghost began to sabotage Hamid’s shop by frightening customers with mysterious laughter only they could hear. Business declined rapidly. Troubled, Hamid and his wife began to worry. One day, the ghost disguised himself as an old beggar and visited their home. After receiving food and charity, he gently advised Hamid’s wife that blessings are blocked when someone withholds another’s rightful due.

That night, Hamid’s wife realized the truth and insisted he return his sister’s money. The next day, Hamid went to the bank. Satisfied, the ghost returned home. Soon after, he read a final letter from Zarina, thanking her brother for sending the money.

The ghost smiled wryly and muttered that someone else had done the work, yet the thanks went elsewhere. But ghosts, after all, do not seek praise. They are content walking alone on empty streets at night and quietly correcting human mistakes.