Why we love (Indian) horror stories and films

'Stree' and 'Bhool Bhulaiyaa 2' gave us goosebumps and giggles. (Image via Twitter/Netflix)

Once upon a time ghosts and goblins filled up every fairy tale. They were the antagonists of Gothic horror tales but described in more detail than the heroes, who were hapless priests or detectives. Hauntings and exorcism, poltergeists and ghouls were a routine part of spooky literature down the ages. In a nice leafy suburb, anyone could be suddenly possessed. Or anything. Shirley Jackson’s novel The Haunting of Hill House has the house itself as an eerie entity. The supernatural takes the human heart hostage when things go bump in the night.

While most of older global literature, written by the likes of H.P. Lovecraft (Cthulhu Mythos), M.R. James (Ghost Stories of an Antiquary) and Bram Stoker (Dracula), focused on the nameless dread that resonated with most readers, coupled with a sense of foreboding and foreshadowing, Indian writers had a more straightforward approach. Our ghosts, shaped out of folklores and legends, were never shy of the spotlight, and were in their haunting element more readily. Third-person narrations and suspected sightings gave way to raucous laughter and almost an inclination to hobnob freely with the haunted on the ghost’s part.

It is cinema which brings us newer ghosts by the day, with technical innovations and screen magic. And while late Victorian ladies reappear in lace and cinched gowns alongside their male counterparts, Indian ghosts are predominantly women with a penchant for white saris. The pure whiteness of their saris cuts across states and languages; all ghosts have only one wardrobe. No ‘what should I wear?’ dilemma for them. Obviously, no drycleaning bills in the afterworld either. Just an endless supply of crisp white saris with matching blouses available to all women the minute they die and wander into Indian films.

There was also the matter of high-pitched singing, very unique to desi ghosts. On highways, in isolated houses, in jungles or even unseen, they were wont to break into a tunefully rendered song mostly at midnight. Spectres in all languages are up for a round of antakshari at all times.

Our ghosts sometimes can be similar to the foreign ones. The unspoken horror of the hotel in The Shining by Stephen King echoes the excellent atmospherics of Satyajit Ray’s old bungalows and circuit houses in his horror tales. Talaash and The Sixth Sense will testify to the three-dimensional solidity that the dead may have in common. Horror and humour are a great mix. To counter a Hollywood Beetlejuice, we have Stree and Bhool Bhulaiyaa 2, which gave us goosebumps with giggles.

While John Lanchester’s short story Signal signals the onset of a new era, where ghosts can be tech-savvy or at least keeping up with newer innovations, Indian ghosts remain loyal to ancient havelis and bhoot bunglas.

The signature music for apparitions every time they make an appearance on screen seem to have completely different composers, who are haunted in very separate ways during the composing, depending on the country. And that loud laugh for no reason – that is a very desi thing! When they are not singing melodiously with complete orchestras, our bhoot and pret are a tickled lot.