The Unfinished Wish

We often speak of a person’s “last wish” as a final, heartfelt desire. But what happens when that wish is left unfulfilled? For one family, the answer came not in dreams or memories, but in a series of eerie, persistent events that turned their long-time home into a house of nightly dread.

The story begins in 2014, with the passing of a beloved grandfather. He had lived with his daughter and grandson but had moved to another house. His fervent wish, expressed repeatedly, especially in his final, senile days in the hospital, was to return to their family apartment. “When are you taking me home?” he would ask during visits. He passed away on November 8th, his wish seemingly extinguished with him.

For two months, life resumed its normal rhythm. Then, in mid-January 2015, the ordinary shattered. The mother, her 11-year-old son, and their maid, who often stayed up late, began hearing crashes from the kitchen—sharp, distinct sounds of a falling utensil or bowl, always between 2:30 and 3:00 AM. Assuming rats, they set traps and eliminated the rodent population. Yet, the crashes continued, unwavering.

The tension escalated one night with a deafening crash that convinced the mother an intruder was present. The maid bravely investigated, only to find the kitchen empty and undisturbed—no fallen object in sight. The three were left with a chilling realization: the source was not physical.

By February, the phenomena evolved. Lights turned on by themselves. Then came the rattling: the window grills, steadfast for a decade, began to vibrate and shake as if buffeted by a strong, localized breeze. The disturbance wasn’t confined to one room; the maid, sleeping across the flat, reported the same unnerving rattling in her space, eventually moving her mattress into the family’s room for comfort and safety.

Seeking answers, the mother consulted a trusted family priest known for his accuracy. Without being told details of the situation, he grew unusually concerned. He identified the presence as the spirit of the grandfather, drawn to the home he longed for, and prescribed specific rituals and pujas. Following his instructions brought a temporary respite, a fragile peace.

The family’s departure for Mumbai a few months later did not end the apartment’s strange legacy. Attempts to rent it failed spectacularly. Tenants never stayed long: one died weeks after moving in; another left when a family member passed away, deeming the place inauspicious; others reported unexplained illnesses. The pattern was too consistent to ignore. The apartment, now owned by a relative, stands locked—a silent testament to its troubled history.

For the now-grown son who lived through it, the memories remain vivid. The dread of returning home at night, the shared fear with his mother and maid, and the unresolved mystery of his grandfather’s poignant, persistent desire. It’s a story that challenges skepticism, a personal account of how grief and unfulfilled longing can sometimes echo in ways that defy easy explanation.

Whether one believes in spirits or attributes it to the power of suggestion and collective anxiety, the narrative stands as a powerful human experience—a haunting reminder that some bonds, and some wishes, may transcend the finality of death.