WRITER’S NOTE: I am writing the introduction of this story as a homage to Tales from the Crypt with my Grave Scribe persona. Please enjoy!
…
A coffin creak is heard in the background.
“Ah… so you found me again, dear reader. ‘The Grave Scribe,’ keeper of secrets and chronicler of souls too restless to stay buried. Tonight, I open my tome to a tale from the humid heart of Malaysia. A tale of vanity, ambition, and blood.
A pop singer turned witch doctor. A politician turned victim. A ritual turned execution.
Oh yes… a modern-day witch trial!
Now, let her speak. Let Mona Fandey rise from her grave and tell you, in her own words, how the hunger for fame can devour far more than just your career.”
…
“I will not die.” Those were my last words.
I knew from childhood, I was born to shine like Taylor Swift and the K-Pop idols who adorn your YouTube feed. They did not have YouTube in my time. All I ever wanted was to be adored. When I sang, people listened. When I smiled, the world tilted a little closer. Even though my husband gave up his savings to give me air time, the moguls of Malaysian media decided I was not good enough.
Fame, it seemed, was a cruel lover.
Unlike Affandi, my loyal husband. He was also my greatest believer. He told me I wasn’t meant to fade. “You have the gift,” he said, “If the world won’t give you power, take it.”
After much discussion, we both decided to take up magic. We would make people’s dreams come true since many believed in unseen forces. Some might call it black magic, but it was hope and power for me, Affandi, and our assistant, Juraimi. His ingratitude would lead to our inevitable fall, and I still don’t know if I should curse him or thank him. I still remember smiling for the cameras while being escorted out of the courthouse and thinking I should strangle him, but maybe it was also another chance for fame, so I just took the chance and smiled. I knew I was born for fame; I did what came naturally. But, I digress.
My clients came from every corner and dark hollow of society: businessmen, socialites, politicians—all desperate for something they couldn’t earn.
That’s when Datuk Mazlan Idris came to me.
A man of ambition, burning so brightly he couldn’t see the shadows closing in. He wanted power. Minister of State, he said. He wanted more. And he could have it, what I could never attain. The people’s praise and respect. I decided that men like him should never outshine me.
That’s why I told Affandi to give him the axe. “Power to the people,” I say! “Death to tyrants!”
He came with money — lots of it. 2.5 million ringgit was my quote. He did not pay me the full amount upfront – the nerve of him. But a deal is a deal, and he gave enough for my plastic surgery and new car later on.
I offered him two talismans: a cane and a songkok, once belonging — so I told him — to Sukarno, the first President of Indonesia. “With these,” I said, “you will be invincible.”
He believed me. They always do.
That night, the air was heavy with the cloying fragrance of incense, burnt at the site of our patron’s home. My husband, Affandi, and our helper, Juraimi, prepared the room and the means of disposing of our victim later on. I told Mazlan to lie face down, close his eyes, and trust in the magic of the ritual so money would come to him out of thin air in droves he couldn’t dream of — the fool!
He smiled at the prospect. Oh, how easily men trust when ambition blinds them.
I placed petals over his body and whispered blessings. He thought fortune was about to rain from the heavens. Instead, Juraimi’s axe fell thrice.
Three swings. Three echoes. Then silence.
We dismembered him, piece by piece, like a broken promise. I told myself it was art. A ritual of power. A step toward the immortality fame had denied me.
But you know what’s strange? The moment the blood touched my hands, I felt alive again. Not as a pop star. Not as a has-been. But as someone seen. I was finally unforgettable. I could have tasted his blood, but not with my husband watching of course.
When the police caught us, I smiled for the cameras. They clicked and flashed, and I gave them what they wanted — a star reborn in scandal. My name was everywhere. Mona Fandey. The witch. The murderer. The legend.
And when the judge read my sentence — death by hanging — I didn’t tremble. I only smiled wider.
“Aku takkan mati,” I told them. I will not die.
And, perhaps, I haven’t.
When they pulled the lever, I didn’t scream. I thought of lights, of applause, of my name echoing in eternity. I got what I wanted; all it took was a sacrifice. All of the greats did so for their art, and I am their peer.
And now… I’m here.
Whispering through time, through screens, through stories.
You think this is just a tale of horror, dear reader? No. It’s a mirror.
You scroll, you post, you crave followers and fame. You’d trade pieces of yourself just to be seen.
Be careful what you chase. Because vanity never dies.
And neither did I.
…
The Grave Scribe closes the tome with a slow grin.
“Sleep well, my wicked friend. And if you hear a dark song in the shadows, don’t look back. It might just be Mona, craving another chance to perform.”
Realism is focused on the awareness of immediate possibilities and acts based on certainty and what is probable.
Idealism is focused on hope and then considering the possibility is always there, even if unlikely.
Idealism is a motivating force necessary to cross the hard days. Realism keeps us grounded in the hard facts, and it creates the firm conviction that, with reasonable efforts, anything can become possible.
Finding that balance is the hard part. I hope that someone’s desire can be implemented or adjusted somewhere between the grounded reality and the perfect outcome.
Imagine
Imagination is the circle of thoughts we love to breathe in, no matter the philosophy. This thought circle can be the comfort zone where we find peace and tranquility, healthy doses for the mind’s stability. A stable mind is necessary to live life truly, rather than going through the motions and spending hours, days, weeks, months, and years till death. I should know.
Imagination holds a powerful place in my life, shaping how I work and plan. I often begin by germinating an obsession — a goal that may initially seem impractical, unattainable. I continually water this obsession, to thrive and drive me forward.
Don’t call me “unrealistic,” but the idealistic approach lets me chase what seems impossible, and it defines my mindset.
This approach often leads to what I call a rebellious mindset. It strengthens my determination to stick to my goals against all odds. While not all dreams achieved through this idealism come to fruition, I still find that this process builds resilience. This resistance to external pressures fosters a personality that is difficult to sway, making me less susceptible to compromising on fundamental rights, freedom of speech, or injustice.
In Pakistan, where societal and institutional pressures often push individuals to conform to the old narratives, my idealistic mindset allows me to challenge these norms. I resist the go-with-the-flow mentality that dominates our local culture. This resistance, born of my imagination-driven idealism, makes me a person who cannot easily be managed, whether by those in power or within social circles.
Don’t elbow me
From an early age, I had a dream of joining the armed forces. Normally after 12th grade, we can apply to join. I was declared medically unfit due to the carrying angle of my elbow, the angle between the forearm and arm when the arm is extended. The excessive angle may lead to a person’s inability to carry weight, so I was declared temporarily unfit as carrying heavy bulky weights is quite normal in the armed forces. I was shattered.
(Image courtesy of shraga kopstein via Unsplash)
I had waited for many years for the day I could apply to the armed forces. I went to the Combined Military Hospital Lahore to get advice about the treatment of this angle issue. The senior surgeon of their orthopedics department was a brigadier rank officer and only affirmed what I had already heard — I was medically unfit for service.
“It is impossible to force this elbow angle in position, as it is by birth and not changeable,” he said very clearly, “There is no option for you.”
I was coming down the stairs, and the word “impossible” was ringing in my ears on repeat. Before coming back, the doctor just wrote TRY CHIN-UPS on my prescription slip and also told me that there is almost a zero percent chance of effective results from chin-up exercise.
I just kept the words “impossible” and “0% chance” in my mind as I started doing chin-ups, and started to play hockey by keeping the stick near my elbow (another technique recommended by a physical instructor.) I continued to work on this routine for almost eight months without rest. I spent all day on the ground, almost entirely on running, chin-ups, and hockey.
During this time, even my mother and father advised me to stop as “it” is a natural condition and not curable. In their words, “You must focus on any other profession.” My friends used to mock me by calling my hard work a futile effort.
All of these opposing forces played a vital role in making me resistant to all opinions and steadfast in my wish to work at getting the carrying angle decreased to the normal range. My two main motivations were to prove all the people’s opinions wrong, and imagining the moment when I would be declared medically fit for the armed forces.
After eight or nine months, I reapplied, and was declared medically fit … by the senior orthopedic surgeon of CMH Lahore. This senior orthopedic surgeon was sitting on the same chair where I was advised by his fellow surgeon that I had no chance of getting this carrying angle cured. I believe this imaginative and rebellious approach gives me the courage to stand firmly for what I believe is right and just, no matter the challenges.
However, a question I mainly consider is why imagination is a person’s only source of peace.
Just turn the tables
Shift your intention towards the thinking philosophy of a person. A person creates a private boundary and wants to allow only those people in whom they love. Possibilities exist that things happen according to a person’s will. Or never happen at all.
The fact is that a person only wants to live with the people or things of their choice or with those whom they love. When life is working out and everything is flowing smoothly, they don’t need to live in their imagination when their reality is already according to their wish. Likewise, if the opposite is true and nothing in their life fits the narrative they want, a person will always prefer fantasy.
Preferring imagination when reality doesn’t meet their desires also resonates deeply with my life. There have been times when my circumstances didn’t align with my narrative of how things should be. During such times, I relied on imagination not as an escape, but as a tool to redefine my path and rekindle hope.
Take this scenario: a man wants to marry a woman, but she does not want to be his wife. It is very common for Pakistani youth to feel affection for someone without reciprocation. This reality will upset the man, just as it would anyone else in the world who experiences that kind of rejection. To avoid facing it, some men will develop a fantasy world around them, where everything is according to their wishes, and imagine that woman as his wife. Mental stability is so vital that a person can spend his whole life sitting on a beach if there’s peace there.
So, when this love-sick man feels comfortable in that specific zone where everything is according to his arrangement, he may never broaden his circle to accept reality, because reality is painful and upsets his mental stability.
Keep turning
Now comes the other side of the story. Suppose a woman whom he wants to marry becomes his wife. Here the reality is beautiful, so the man does not need to imagine it. He can be with a woman he wanted to marry.
This example highlights that choosing a path of imagination is not always necessary. We all want to choose a way that follows mental stability, happiness, and our desired direction, traveling only with those we want to travel with. This path can be imaginative if the day does not unfold following our desires. On the other hand, it can be realistic if the year serves our demand.
People who live in fantasy think that if life does not progress according to their thoughts, they should develop a forest of ideas and continue to roam, reconciling disparate elements, and accommodating setbacks, under the varying shades of thought.
Grief from losing loved ones or precious things is only natural; otherwise, how could you really consider it love? This might be true, but being consumed by grief can also cause severe damage to relationships around that person.
I often imagine the moment when I will leave this world, and the people I’ve helped will speak to themselves or others, saying, “This was the man who supported us when we needed it most.” That thought motivates me deeply, as I hope my legacy will live on; not through fame, but through gratitude in the hearts of those I’ve touched.
Can imagination harm you?
Imagination is so immersive, but too much of anything makes a person unaware of their surroundings as they get lost within themselves. If they go too deep or too often into the workings of their own mind, they risk losing interest in the present, in their responsibilities, and in dear ones; a disconnect.
A person’s happiness may rely on sadness; the sadder, the more content. The repetitive thoughts of the desired life give only temporary relief, but when this bubble of imagination pops, the pain becomes enjoyable as it closes the circle.
Imagination is deeply embedded in my life. I often imagine scenarios and ideals, not about myself per se but about the circumstances I want to create. Like joining the armed forces, when that path didn’t materialize, I redirected my imagination toward contributing to society in other meaningful ways.
I now aspire to be a “hidden treasure” — a person who works silently to help others without seeking recognition. I have been fortunate to help people in small ways, such as paying tuition fees for needy students, assisting patients with medical expenses, or supporting families in distress. Without publicizing them, true kindness lies in remaining behind the scenes.
I would say that my idealism has sometimes led to frustration when reality doesn’t align with my vision. However, I see these moments as opportunities for growth and adaptation. Instead of being overwhelmed, I channel my energy into finding alternative ways to move closer to my goals.
Our demands from fantasizer and associated consequences
We mostly think those suffering from an imaginative trauma must return to life and be normal like others. Easy for us to say, but much more difficult to actually do practically. Our continuous demand forces them to develop a facade.
When that person becomes fed up with acting, watch for extreme behavioral changes like powerful flashbacks, regret, and open exposure to whatever that person is covering.
Extreme realistic or extreme idealistic?
What creates a problem for most of us is that we are either highly realistic or highly idealistic.
For example, a hardworking and talented worker wants a certain job. She goes with a practical approach that the company’s standards are too high for her and decides against applying for that specific job. She is thinking only in black and white. This is a highly realistic approach if something is complex. Many others cannot meet the high standards, so she thinks she also could not.
On the other hand, a 45-year-old artisan applies for a job with selection criteria that anticipates a 20-year-old, but the artisan is so motivated and has a firm belief that they are the best candidate, the best worker. That is a highly idealistic approach that has something less to do with the reality that everyone else experiences.
Both of these approaches are extreme yet correctable, and that correction lies in creating a balance.
I consider myself more idealistic than realistic, and I tend to stay firmly focused on my goals despite external challenges. For example, recently in Pakistan, the weather has turned extremely cold — a rare occurrence in a country accustomed to heat. While many people find it difficult to engage in physical activities during such weather, I have maintained a daily routine of running for 10 kilometers early in the morning before sunrise, even when the sun is scarcely visible these days. Yet, I persist because I idealize the sense of accomplishment and discipline it brings me. This is how I strike a balance between realism and idealism: I acknowledge the challenges but push through by focusing on the rewards they offer.
In the balance
Idealism and realism are two poles of magnets that repel. Balance is impossible because the idealistic and realistic approaches are linked to the person’s desires. How can human beings suppose something against their will? This unacceptability of the possibilities that reality and idealism bring along leads to the challenge of creating a balance.
How can we force the balance? Who doesn’t lose the forest for the trees?
It is actually the struggle to create a balance between idealistic and realistic perspectives that makes us human; a work in progress, but not forced.
Finding that balance is the hard part. Can you imagine?
