Meeting for coffee

I had reached the cafe as promised. I was going to meet my childhood friend, Mohit. Mohit was my senior, we used to stay at the same complex, and had been friends. We had been close enough to discuss life, career, love life, and investment decisions. Last few years he had travelled a lot due to his job but now that he was back in the city, we decided to meet. I was excited to meet my buddy after long 7 years. Mohit arrived on time.

We sat down and ordered coffee. While the coffee brewed, I was keen to know what he had been up to these years. Though we had been in touch over calls and texts, I wanted to know more when we met. He too shared everything with me including his life abroad, his wife's online business, his daughter's school, and his parents. I was delighted to know that he had been doing great in his life and flourishing. While speaking about his experience, he paused for a moment, looked me straight in the eyes, and asked, "you write blogs, right? Horror stories?"

I nodded, unsure why he asked me that question. He maintained his silence for a few minutes and allowed the tension to build. Mohit was an amazing storyteller and he knew how to build the atmosphere. He took a sip of his coffee and looked at me, "kid you are in for a treat today. How do you plan to note? Do you have a notepad and a pen?"

I reached my bag and took out my notepad and pen, but decided to record his story on the phone, "I cannot believe you have not told this to me earlier. You know how much I am into horror," I was excited but angry at him for keeping me in the dark.

Mohit smiled, "you are meeting me after 7 years. You got nobody but yourself to blame for this. Had you met me earlier, I would have told you my story", though Mohit was trying to keep the atmosphere light, I had sensed his discomfort. He had taken the lead to tell the story but he appeared hesitant, yet he wanted to tell the story.

"Okay, guilty as charged. When did this happen? When you had been working in the UK? I have heard that Europe is haunted. Did you meet a European ghost? Lord or lady?" I was asking questions to make him feel comfortable.

Mohit smiled again, this time he appeared little relaxed. I felt like my attempt to create a cheerful atmosphere worked. He looked at his coffee mug, "it did not happen in the UK. Sorry to disappoint there was no lord or lady".
"Well, then where did it happen? US? South Africa? Australia? Switzerland? Tell me quickly. Else you would need to order more coffee for me", I said.
"It happened in India. Approximately 10 years ago. Promise me you will not discuss this. If you decide to write, keep it anonymous. I don't want my parents or Ananya to worry about me," Mohit's mood shifted from cheerful to somber.
"I promise, I will not tell anyone. I will keep it anonymous. If this is a secret, it will be safe with me and it will leave the world with my ashes," I assured him to go on.

Mohit proceeded to narrate his story. In a warm and comforting atmosphere, it gave me chills.