Imagine that you have come on a trip or a picnic with your family or friends. You are near a water body, as harmless as any. You are a part of a large group and let us suppose that you are all engaged in some form of rigorous, overpriced water sport. The mind of an ordinary individual with an average imagination shall be engaged in thinking of ways to overcome the rival teams, with maybe a passing thought to any unnameable things that may be lurking beneath the surface.
But you, reader, you and I are different. We are the ones who refuse to participate in the sport, friendly rivalry be damned, because we are disturbingly aware of all the fifty seven thousand ways in which we can be attacked if we step into that water. The swirling, murky depths, the playful splashes and cocky friends don’t fool you. You recall the abnormally large and dark bird you saw earlier in the day, perched innocuously on a branch of a menacing, leafless, dead tree. As the sweat drips down your worried brow, you are faced with the horrifying realization that you do not remember the Hanuman Chalisa in its entirety, only the first few lines. They will have to do; the fate of the entire group, frolicking gaily in the deathly waters, rests solely on your drooping shoulders.
See, the best part about having a vivid imagination is that you can fill up the blank spaces with a pretty fantastic set of things.
The worst part about having a vivid imagination is that you can fill up the blank spaces with a pretty fantastic set of things.
And this is why I stayed away from horror movies so far. All by myself I can cook up a pretty decent theory on what is waiting for me in the hallway as I make my way for a midnight pee. Watching those films is going to be like adding fuel to the fire. Not to mention the delightful pleasures of body horror.
At the risk of sounding like an adoring little girl talking about her big, strong daddy, my father is afraid of nothing. Or at least not of the things I am afraid of. He has often told me to stand in the dark – the very thing that frightens me the most – and stay put for a while. And see that nothing happens. Nothing sinister waiting to jump at me (other than a startled cockroach) or pull me down, no one sneaking in the closet or under my bed or on top of the cupboard. And till date, I never have.
I want to get over this fear and to do this I am going to conduct a little experiment. Over the next 3 months, I am going to watch a horror movie each week and I’ll do a little update about it each time. Not the day I watch it, the day after I’ve seen it; to see how I survived the night. Yay.
But I want to do this.
And at the end of this three month period I shall take the stand. I’ll stand in the dark for at least 15 minutes, all by my lonesome and my head filled with the grinning, bloody faces and distorted body figures and wait for them to come at me.
Let’s see how that goes.
If you, like me, are afraid of horror movies, come join me! I can promise you this is not going to a comfortable ride. Come anyway. If you’re a horror movie enthusiast and you’re shaking your head at my little venture, lend me a hand – or monstrosity – and suggest some good – or bad, as the case may be – movies that I can watch during my experiment.
“Do one thing every day that scares you.” – Eleanor Roosevelt