#sunday 11

Around 5 decades ago, my grandparents lived in a village, high up in the mountains (they migrated to the city where we currently are, in the early 90s). My grandma tells us so many stories of the village life and how there was no road at all. At a slightly elevated area, the muddy, grassy paths were the only ‘roads’ villagers had. There was a deep rocky cave close to one of the paths. It was believed to be inhabited by djinns. Villagers could hear loud banging of utensils and slight murmurs from there quite usually. My grandma told me that they were friendly djinns because they were treated respectfully by all villagers and experienced no hinderance to their existence. So much so that whenever a large gathering or a marriage ceremony was to be held in the village, the shortage of bedding and chairs was often arranged by the spirits themselves. So, the villagers just used to politely speak into the cave opening about the requirements and the next day, the items were found outside. The villagers in turn, returned the items after washing/cleaning and also left meals for them. 

One day, they didn’t return the items in great form and so the djinns got offended and never ever helped the villagers after that To this day, no one heard from them again!  Here comes the interesting part now.