It is the same Karachi bungalow I had described already in "Childish Pranks." Like most homes in this part of the world, it got a 'drawing room', that is a room for receiving 'formal' guests. Hence, this room is used only rarely. It is quite large, fully carpeted, with one door leading into the garden, one sliding door leading into the dining room and one huge glass front overlooking the lawn.
Karachi nights are hot and sweltering, especially in May/June. Even with the ceiling fan running at full speed it is quite difficult to sleep. But when there is a power failure (and there are many of them) it gets unbearable. The heat, humidity, mosquitoes all seem bent to deprive you of your nerves.
Anyway, when my husband and I could not bear it any longer, we decided to spend our nights in the drawing room with the garden door wide open, so as to have at least a bit of breeze to comfort us during those hot and electricity-less nights. At first, we would move there only when the lights went off, but after a couple of days, we spent whole nights there. And I have to admit that it was much better than the room.
With gusts of fresh air blowing in, my husband usually went to sleep within no time. I, however, usually took a while to fall asleep. This drawing room has a weird feeling about it already during daytime, but at night it gets worse. The breeze comes in through the frame of the glass front and makes all kinds of weird sounds. The potted plants in front of the garden door cast strange shadows (Karachi is never really pitch-dark, even if the lights are off, and even if there is no moon), and the door opening into the dining room, it always makes you feel as though there was someone or something lurking in the dark.
Telling myself not to be stupid and not to imagine things, I still managed to get myself somehow to sleep. And once I succeeded, it was breezy bliss until morning.
At least for a few nights. For then I would be quite painfully disrupted in my sleep. I don't know how often it happened, for it became an almost nightly occurrence. At first I would feel as though I saw a dream - that my husband was teasing me, trying some wrestling tricks on me. He would usually end up sitting on my stomach and digging his thumb straight into my stomach as though it was a dagger. The pain I'd feel was real enough for me to realise that I was NOT dreaming. Often I would stare into the face of what I thought was my husband, and it did look like him, except for the eyes, for these had a very MEAN expression. On getting more into my senses, I would usually recite the Ta'awwuz and that thing would disappear. (And by then I would also behold my peacefully sleeping hubby.) Then would fall asleep again, without any further disturbances.
I had shared those experiences with my husband also, and he suggested that I should awake him if it happens. Anyway, I never did, perhaps because I was worried that maybe my husband turns out to be someone else, or also bent to have a wrestling bout.
In that drawing room, I saw also the same dream (if it was a dream) again and again: That I am walking in front of some abandoned looking houses, with someone following me - a middle aged, balding man with very vile looks and the same eyes as the one who'd sit on me and dig his thumb into my stomach. That guy usually would get hold of me, causing me REAL physical pain, making me feel as though I am paralyzed, but in the end I'd somehow struggle myself free, hit him, and even break him into pieces.
As already mentioned, this became an almost nightly experience, for a couple of years but only in the drawing room, not in our own room. As for the 'dreamy kind of vision', I did not bother too much about it, until one night, during a short trip to Islamabad, the guy from the 'dreams' came to visit me in the hotel room. While I was awake. He overpowered me, sat down on my stomach and this time, he tried to dig a knife into me. But thankfully, this thing disappeared as I recited my prayer. This time I nevertheless decided to wake up my husband, and we had the room changed. The remaining part of the night was spent in peace.
As for the Karachi house, I am pretty sure that there are some invisible fellows around. And I am not the only one. Even some of our visitors (those to be seated in the drawing room) have quite bluntly said, "Watch it! There is something in that house."
(P.S. Before anyone is asking, we stopped sleeping in the drawing room by now. Not because we are scared or because there are no more power outages, but because we got a UPS to provide us with electricity at night.)
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