echo An Introduction
There is often the illusion that the rigidity of science is adamant in disproving the more eerie and whimsical nature of the supernatural. If the baseline for the ‘natural’ are the things accepted as truth as a result of sensory stimulation – by sight, sound, scent, taste or touch – or elements of the physical universe, then to provide concrete evidence otherwise might seem like an exercise in futility. A surprisingly wide variety of phenomena are attributed to ‘ghosts’ – from cold spots to creaky noises in the attic to mysterious silhouettes in the distance.
Is it that hair-raising chill down your spine? Or maybe it’s that passenger on the train whose face you are certain did not exist.
Define ghost. It’s commonly described as a spirit of the deceased that has reappeared to the living once more. Historically, the belief in an afterlife has been central to various ancient cultures – evidenced by specific funerary rites to appease these souls: methods of burial, preparation of the body, the adornment in precious metals and worldly items to carry to the other side of the veil. In the case of those made restless in death, their souls were then doomed to wander tragically forevermore. Perhaps even dragging the living down the depths alongside.
Yet religions may also view these disturbances through an entirely different facet – either malevolent spirits or the acts of demonic forces. Many denominations of the Christian faith caution against engaging in occult practices, spiritualism, or even seances as they open doors to these beings and allow them a foothold into a person’s life and household. Interestingly, most scenarios with religious beliefs have the worshipped deities invoked in order to grant blessing, favour, or for appeasement in order to prevent punishment. A civilisation that illustrated this prevalence was ancient Greece.
Another riveting phenomena is found whereby places with specific histories have been known to feel wrong. It’s the prickle to the back of the neck, the inexplicable heaviness to the heart, or even the thumping of one’s heart to the rhythm of an invisible drumbeat. Abandoned asylums and houses left desolate after particularly horrific pasts are prime examples. Most may be explained away psychologically – environmental sounds that trigger agent detection mechanisms, factors of location isolation or claustrophobia, or even stimuli that give the impression of being frozen in time (mouldy odours, rot, cobwebs, or, curiously enough, antiquated Victorian architecture).
But for others, there remains an unsettling element of truth to these encounters.
My mother was born and raised at the outskirts of Seremban. The house she lived in with her parents and four siblings was in Senawang. It was a single-story link house that was extended right up to the back – in this case, whereby the structure originally had three rooms, the kitchen was later lengthened, with another room and toilet being added. She and her sisters slept in the third room – one that had existed before the construction. The windows in that room that previously marked the end of the house were maintained, but now the view simply overlooked the interior of the newer room.
By all appearances, it was a house and it was safe. There were no shadows in the corners. No creaking floorboards. No dust-stained walls. It was simply a home – bright and colourful and soaked in the presence of family.
But there was one night when she was in her teens that something disquieting occurred. She awoke, and there was this incredibly vivid imprint of hearing voices talking. It sounded like men, and she could even see these shadows of three or four figures moving about in the dark of that room. She panicked, her first thought being that there must have been robbers in the house. Yet when she opened her mouth to scream or call out, no sound escaped. It was as if she had been weighted down to the bed, something heavy and oppressive pressing down – a state of complete paralysis. She shut her eyes and immediately started to pray.
She kept praying. Over time, that force eased up completely. When she opened her eyes again, there was nothing there.
It turned out that the house, in addition to being a place where a previous tenant – an elderly man – had committed suicide, something grim had occurred within those walls during the time of the Japanese occupation. She didn’t find this fact out until nearly three decades later when it came out during a conversation at a family dinner. Given the voices she had heard and the glimpses caught, perhaps this was exactly what she had witnessed.
Objects, Religion, and Warnings
I am raised a Christian. Yet there were certain biblical scriptures I didn’t fully grasp until afterwards.
Occurrences that would be nowadays classified as myth are found a lot in the bible. Genesis 6:1-6 revealed the existence of the Nephilim, which were the offspring between fallen angels and humans. The Book of Enoch – fragments of which were found with the Dead Sea Scrolls – contained unique material on both this group and the Watchers, although the text has since become controversial in matters of theology.
Giants are mentioned as well. The most famous story is that of David and Goliath, but it is referenced through passages: in Numbers 13:33 as the Anakim, the Rephaim in Deuteronomy, and even in Genesis in precursor to the flood. In accordance with the New Testament, Jesus’s ministry was spent one-third in the deliverance of people from the demonic. Curiously, the bible also warned against bringing in certain items into a home. This was a lesson that would be repeated many times over the span of several books.
This caution against bringing home particular items is interesting. Variations of it are even seen in several other cultures and religions around the world – a very famous example of which is Pele’s Curse. Taking sand, rock, or pumice out of Hawaii and resulting in grievously bad luck may actually been perpetuated as a myth, created in a frustrated response to the more klepto tourists, but it is a fact that the Hawaii Volcano National Park staff have received thousands of letters from apologetic and shaken tourists alongside a return of the pilfered lava rocks. There is no record about this curse in Hawaiian history. But locals do harbour the belief that everything has a life force or ‘mana’, and that these life forces and spirits can inhabit inanimate objects like rocks. Hence, all rocks on the island are considered sacred, and they may not solely be rocks when they are removed from the island. A similar story can be found with the Ayers Rock in central Australia (Uluru).
Then there are the items that appear seemingly ordinary and innocuous, but would be a good idea to stay far away from. The more popular names on this macabre wall of fame include Robert the Doll, Thomas Busby’s chair, the Delphi Purple Sapphire, the Basano Vase, the Iceman or paintings like the ‘Crying Boy’ and ‘The Hand Resist Him’. J.W. Ocker put it aptly when he wrote, a cursed object is an object that gathers stories to itself – and more specifically, tragedies.
But if it’s this identification of repeated tragedy that gives a curse its name, then where was the point of origin?
A Personal Encounter
It was around nine years ago that this part of faith, which seemed so bizarre and alien, began to affect my family directly. My mother and my aunt attended a series of sessions held by a pastor couple from Perth who specialised in spiritual house cleansing – it taught primarily how to identify what were called ‘detestable objects’ in order to remove and destroy them. There was a reason for this. What they had found was that certain objects, no matter how normal they seemed, were often precursors to inexplicable and sudden occurrences of emotional oppression, sleeplessness, illness, and sickness – or even discord and strife in the family – all of which stopped just as abruptly when they were removed.
If I had said without preamble that the ‘detestable’ objects removed from my home were Lego, a giant jigsaw puzzle, a charcoal sketch, a few articles of clothing, and several more mundane items like those, it would seem too ridiculous to believe, right? There was no ritualistic history tied to any of these, no string of tragedies draped like an ever-flowing veil. Yet there was a marked shift in before and after, because it had lain with what had been instead depicted.
At that time, my family lived in a smaller house in PJ. My brother was around six or seven years old when his personality gradually shifted. He was previously quite a bubbly, energetic kid but then he started to spend endless hours just sitting quietly, nearly sullenly, by himself in the hall with his toys. He was obsessed with Lego. He didn’t like leaving the house and it was difficult to get him to engage with other people. Later, my parents realised there was this particular motif on each of the minifigures that depicted a small, eerie face – the visage of a cracked or horned skull. They decided it was better to get rid of it – at the very least to ease the fixation that was seriously affecting him at this point.
They talked to my brother and he was initially okay with the idea. The day after they had gotten rid of all of it, he became very upset and threw a tantrum. He’d never done anything like this before – it was a full-on screaming match on his end. It earned him a reprimand, but the day after that, his personality transformed completely again overnight. He was suddenly back to his usual, cheerful self in an instant and he’s been like that ever since. Surprisingly, it was him that started checking every time we’d go to buy a new toy or anything – he’d say, Mom, the pattern looks a bit funny. Better not buy it.
There were quite a few contents in our house with similar stories. It’s as if the moment you become aware, you can see it. The jigsaw puzzle that used to be framed in the living room was a depiction of a cathedral interior, but there were gargoyles and misshapen faces all over. The relationship between my mother and her mother-in-law had been amicable for years but the second that frame had been assembled and hung on the wall, it had devolved to bitter animosity. When it was discarded, just as abruptly, there was an immediate improvement. There was even this sketch that was given from a family member that lived in America – it showed figures conducting funerary rites. An ill omen indeed.
With all of these taken down, I swear to you, there was this tangible shift in the air. Like it was easier to breathe.
To The Root
There was one critical aspect when it came to these house cleansings – the person who owned the item had to be willing to clear it. Oftentimes, if the object was expensive or had sentimental value, and the owner was reluctant to part with it despite knowing it should not be kept, it threatened to make the situation worse. This was the reason most attended the pastor couple’s sessions beforehand – to further understand what was going on and make an informed choice.
I mentioned earlier about my mother’s childhood home. Sometime during the later part of the 1990s, they moved to another house – still in Seremban, but closer to the heart of town. It was a two-story home with a large garden, and had been built by my grandfather. This was the second home that the pastors were invited into by my family to clear.
The second the pastors saw the home’s gate, they knew it couldn’t remain. It had been originally a plain black gate, but my grandfather had later customised it by including a gold emblem at the very centre in the shape of this particular stylised pattern that held significance in another religion. The interior of that house fared no better – in fact, in all fifteen years of that pastor couples’ house cleansing ministry, this was apparently the first time that anyone’s wall cornices or gates had ever been touched.
The door handles, the curtains, the sofa settees, a candle holder passed down from my great-grandmother, and even a photo frame brought all the way from America had the exact same design as that gate – as if the presence of the first had drawn others of its kind. It was almost like it had become a temple of sorts for all of these consolidated items.
And it continued.
On the plaster ceiling that ran the edge of several areas downstairs, there was a motif that ran in the shape of a graveyard tombstone, repeating over and over again into dizzying infinity. In the centre of the ceiling were the outlines of faces hidden cleverly amidst the bloom of carved floral forms. A big cabinet near the dining room had about eighty-percent of its contents cleared.
When one of the pastors entered my uncle’s room, she could tell with a single glance the details about him. “The person who uses this room is very intelligent, but very lonely.” She said. There were paintings in frames that had not been hung and were still on the floor – good replicas of original pieces. They could not be kept. But she was very clear in ensuring that they checked with him first before disposing of the paintings as it could not be done without permission. Over a phone call, he agreed readily to get rid of it all.
My aunties shared a room on the second floor. The pastor stepped past that threshold, and her body started to ache. She asked if there was anything with a skull. No. Then she asked whether there was anything with a dragon? Also a no. Nothing came to mind at that time, and as they did not have time to go through all the clothing that day, my aunty answered that she would look for it and clear it once she had found it.
It was two or three days after this, as she was browsing through old holiday photos on her phone, that she saw it – a massive hand-embroidered dragon on an expensive Desigual blouse. She had the idea of removing the threads so that at least the main fabric could be kept. However, it was intricate threadwork and after a few hours of cutting, she only managed to clear away the face and parts of the body. She decided to continue the next day.
The blouse
The next day, both her hands from the elbow up to the fingers were enveloped in a deep, nagging pain. This was unusual as she did run a jewellery business and was in fact used to doing various sorts of handiwork. This marked the first time she had ever felt that sort of ache. The span of that entire week, there was a whole rash of unnerving events almost as if in retaliation – the wrought iron gate nearly fell on her, the two frangipani trees in the front garden of the house dropped all of a sudden, her car parked at the church had a large palm branch shatter the windscreen, and both of my aunties very nearly drove to KL in a car leaking black oil the entire way.
It ceased after that. Once everything was cleared – and it was a miracle in its own right that the admittedly major construction ended up costing well below the amount they had been braced for – there was a tangible difference. The shop business did better, and some of the family that came over to visit immediately pinpointed the difference as feeling more light and at peace.
–
Long before my family learned about house cleansing, there had been an incident.
My grandmother had gotten sick with cancer, and towards the end, she was quiet and often listlessly stared off into space as if no longer entirely there. A month before her passing, she was lying down in the hall when she called for my uncle. What she said was very specific – that there were two figures fighting in the shed and it was not allowing her to stay awake. She asked him to remove and clear it.
To paint a picture – the shed was a decrepit structure in the back garden. Tall grass and areas where nature had become wild and overgrown always meant the possibility of snakes. That shed was the place that items were put into when they were destined to stay out of sight for an indefinitely long time. Regardless, my uncle and dad went and looked. What they eventually found at first was a solid metal cast of a lion-like creature. When they told her, she was insistent that there was a pair. It was after this point they found the second one.
She would have been unaware that my grandfather had previously even brought those particular statues home, accidentally leaving both in the shed in the first place.
The amazing part was that on that very day that they cleared both statues, the very minute it left the house, my Amama had the first proper moment of lucidity that she had in months. At that moment, she was more herself than she had been in a very long time.
Brick By Brick
The uncle I mentioned earlier is a lawyer who lives in Singapore. He is fairly successful and in August of 2010, he had a house built and completed. When he gave his testimony later on, he said that he thought that his life was normal during this period of time – he had a job, financially he was doing well, his prayer life was consistent, and he went to church whenever he could. All the hallmarks of a regular means of life. Unbeknownst to him, my mother and aunties had been praying for him as well.
It was around the time that they asked whether he was amenable to having the pastor couple over to bless his house and clear detestable objects. He was understandably confused, because as he put it – the house was very new and there was hardly anything in it in the first place. Surely there was no problem with the contents he had furnished it with. Regardless, he was open to the idea, because hilariously his train of thought was, why not, he could always do with the extra blessings after all. It could hardly hurt.
Later, looking back, he would give a very interesting turn of phrase to describe his life during this time – it had been ‘filled with darkness’ and ‘barren’. He described himself as being far away and distant from God and that he had believed that this was the way that things simply were. There were many things that he realised were not right in his life – aspects of his career that eluded him, unhealthy relationships and a sort of restlessness that existed. He explained, “There was no true joy. No true peace.” It was as if there was a large absent piece that had gone missing from within.
He got rather large shock when the pastors came and began to take down a substantial volume of things from everywhere – it was all as varied as it was valued. From what he recalled, the assembled pile consisted of several books, a piece of crocodile skin, a flower-infused candle from Japan, pottery from Greece, and even a chunk of volcanic rock that had flown out of Krakatoa during an eruption he had been present for. With all the items placed together, they began to pray over it.
It was then that he had a strange sensation. His body physically reacted. He had an abrupt headache and his back started to ache. And it was as they prayed that he finally could see – there was a particular figure that had started to appear in his line of sight on the volcanic rock, the pottery, and the candle. It was the same demonic face. He described it as ‘cat-like’.
What was more difficult to remove would be on the second floor of his house, tucked up nice and cozy right behind his bed as he slept at night. It was a huge marble slab. And what he could finally see was the terrifying demonic face at its very centre. It took a great deal of time and money to demolish and replace, but he eventually succeeded. He felt the effect nearly immediately. In the time since, he found that a lot has changed in his life. The previous barrier was gone and it was as if he felt alive for the very first time – an indescribable joy, he explained.
Final Thoughts
There’s a saying that goes along the lines of: one time is an incident, two’s a coincidence, and the third a pattern. There have been many harrowing incidents that are a similar case to the ones that have impacted my family. As for me, personally speaking, I do believe it to be true. Especially as I have been involved either peripherally or directly in many incidents that I cannot explain away scientifically. How does an ordinary children’s comic book burn up with a lively green flame – especially without the presence of either copper, barium or boron? How can a backseat full of passengers in a car slamming on the brakes while on the fast lane experience zero whiplash and only utter calm while within? The list goes on and on.
The idea of ‘bad vibes’ is not an uncommon one, especially in a place as intimate as a home. The attempt to remedy this by rearranging the contents of a house is not unfamiliar – actually, many people would be a lot more familiar with the traditional Chinese concept of Feng Shui, the suggestion of placing crystals or even the willful visualisation of positive thinking in an attempt to force-field away the negative energy.
Approaching from the Christian perspective of things however, as stated before, there is precedent in the bible and it makes things rather clear on what has to be done. Particular items should not have a dwelling place at home, and there has to be discernment on identifying what these items are. One safe piece of advice is this: if other cultures or religions especially caution against entering a place sacred to them or even owning certain items unique to their histories, then perhaps it is wise to refrain from doing so.
I can only attest to what I have learnt and experienced.
Written By: Trishta
Edited By: Ryan
