The Mystery of

Bulabai
Mansion
One day Parveen had even
confronted the hefty boy in shabby
pants and a dirty shirt...
Author: Sigrun Srivastav > Illustrations by
Mickey Patel
Last Updated On: Tuesday, April 03, 2007

No one had been inside Bulabai mansion
since the day young Feroz Sahib left for
England. He handed over the keys of the
house to his old servant, Babu Lal. Then
patting his dog he said, Sultan, I am
leaving. But Ill be back in two years. You
look after the house. Dont let anybody in,
especially at night. The old dog looked up at
his master, his light brown eyes mellow with
affection and slowly wagged his long, bushy
tail.

Young Feroz shaib pressed his cheek against
the aged Alsatians head. Take care of
yourself, he whispered. Hope to see you
when I return.

Then he left- without glancing back at
Bulabai Mansion, his ancestral home.

Suddenly a cry rent the quiet of the early
evening-a distant but distinct cry-a high-
pitched, wailing sound, ringing through
Nimmis room. Nimmi looked up from her
book and listened uneasily. She walked over
to the window from where she had a clear
view of Bulabai Mansion. She craned her
neck hoping to see Sultan roaming in

overgrown garden behind the tall wrought
iron gates. But there was no sign of him.
Nimmi sighed- these terrible school tests
would be over tomorrow and then she could
play with Sultan again. She had not seen
Sultan for over a week. She missed him.
Yes, the first thing Praveen, her elder
brother, and she would do would be to take
Sultan to the park and Nimmi hoped BB, that
awful boy who always teased Sultan,
wouldnt be there. She hated the way he
stood before them, legs apart, thumbs
hooked in his trouser pockets, sneering,
going doggy walking again.

He never looked straight at Nimmi or the
dog. The strange thing about BB was that he
never looked anyone straight in the eye.

I know why, Parveen had said one day.
Hes a crook. Criminals and crooks never
look you straight in the eye. Its
psychological and all that. Have you noticed
that he has no friends?

Who wants a friend like him? Hes cruel,
always teasing Sultan.

One day Parveen had even confronted the
hefty boy in shabby pants and a dirty shirt.
Look, he had said, I think youre scared of
Sultan.

Me, scared of that old dog? Hes a goner,
hell pop off any time. In fact, hes already
dying.

A cold hand squeezed Nimmis heart. Surely,
Sultan wasnt dying. No. No. She stared at
Parveen as he collared BB and shouted, You
leave us alone and stay away from Sultan
Sultan and Bulabai Mansion.

Nimmi hadnt seen the boy since, nor had
she seen Sultan. And she hadnt met old
Babu Lal on his way to the market for
Sultans meat.

Straining her eyes Nimmi looked once more
at the grand old house, silhouetted against
the pale sky. It stood silent and ominous, its
locked doors and barred windows straight
like gaint blind eyes, into the hazy grey of
the creeping night. The wind swept over the
colonnaded veranda, whistling mournfully
through the ornate balcony railing. The wind
was the only occupant of the Mansion, the
wind and Sultan, the dog.

EEEeeeteeeeeeeeeh.

There it came again, like the high-pitched
wailing of a woman in pain. It came from
Bulabai Mansion. Nimmi could hear it
distinctly. But there was no woman at
Bulabai Mansion!

Nimmi froze. Hadnt she just seen a shadow
slide past the house? Robbers! Thieves! She
had to call Parveen.

A hand fell on Nimmis shoulder.

Ah, got you, a voice exploded inside her
ear.

Nimmi spun around. Parveen she said,
relieved and angry at the same time, you
really scared me. Then pointing at Bulabai
Mansion she said, Something is going on
there. Didnt you hear that cry!

What cry? asked Parveen, surprised. No, I
didnt hear a thing! Youre dreaming. As
usual youre He froze midway as a sound
pierced the silence. A sharp cry. It rose,
soared, hung suspended in the air and
suddenly broke.

Holy pancake! whispered Parveen. It
came from Bulabai Mansion. He gripped
Nimmi by the arm. Come, lets get there
quickly. Run.

They reached the tall wrought iron gate of
Bulabai Mansion and fell panting against it,
calling out, Sultan, Sultan. Their ears were
alert for Sultans deep throated growl, but
nothing stirred. Not a sound could be heard.

A crackle. A rustle of leaves. Nimmi and
Parveen stiffened.

Theres Sultan, Nimmi cried, pointing to
the undergrowth. Sultan, Sultan.

The rustling ceased. A pair of amber eyes
stared at them unblinkingly stared and
then vanished. A sharp snapping of dry twigs
and the garden was silent once more.

Sultan! Sultan, came an anxious voice
from the opposite side of the garden and
Babu Lal came limping through the wild
grass.

Hes hiding, hes hiding, he said, coughing
painfully. I cant find him. Have you seen
him?

Yes, replied Nimmi. At least I thought I
saw him just now.

Yes must have, said the old servant.
Maybe he has gone to get his food. He eats
only once a day out there in the back
veranda. No one can go near Sultan Sahib
when he eatsno one, not even me. At
night he doesnt anybody near the house.
Just as Feroz Sahib told him.

But what worries me is that he doesnt take
any water. He eats his food all right but he
doesnt touch the water. The old man
looked at the children, his tired old eyes full
of concern. Then he shuffled off towards the
house.

Babu Lal, wait, Parveen called out after
him. We heard a strange cry coming from
this side. We thought you were you were
Say, didnt you hear it?

Me, hear a cry? No! But he continued in a
whisper, Not from the house, but I often
hear strange voices from the park at night.
Very strange! Yes, Ram, Ram, Ram!

Shaking his head, the old man moved off.
Parveen shrugged his shoulders.
Mysterious! Very mysterious! Nimmi,
somethings wrong here. This Babu Lal is up
to something! Look, we heard the cry and
we know it didnt come from the park. Or
, he tapped his forehead, do you think
its only inside here! Imagination
psychological and all that stuff! All inside
your pumpkin head!

He dodged Nimmis blow. Tell you what.
The best way to get rid of all this nonsense
is a good race. And breaking into a run, he
called over his shoulder, The last one home
is a rotten egg.

Nimmi was in no mood for a race. She was
worried. Where was Sultan? She threw a last
glance at the dark garden. Just then a
shadow detached itself from the neem tree
near the gate.

Sultan, wheres our little doggy! a voice
mimicked and BB came up to her, came so
close that she could smell his breath. He had
been smoking a bidi.

Sultan is dead! he sneered. He popped
off. I told you. He chuckled cruelly.

No, Nimmi cried, youre lying. Babu Lal
says hes alive. He might be ill, but hes
alive.

He is dead, not ill! replied the boy. Believe
me.

Look, said Nimmi, trying to control her
trembling voice, if youve done anything to
Sultan Ill call the police.

Me, cried BB. Why should I do anything to
him? Not me! His mocking laughter followed
Nimmi all the way home.

Parveen! she cried. Whats going on?
Wheres Sultan? Why is Babu Lal behaving
so strangely? And now that awful chap BB. I
wonder whether hes up to something.
Maybe he wants to get into Bulabai Mansion.
He has been caught stealing once before.
Remember?

Yes, replied Parveen, but that was long
ago. I dont think BB is that bad. But we
have to watch out.

The next day, as they were helping their
mother weed the flower-beds in the small
front garden, Nimmi asked her brother,
Whats wrong with a dog who refuses to
drink water?

Im not sure, Parveen replied. Ive heard
that rabid dogs dont take water. And they
hide in dark places.

Nimmi felt her hands grow cold. Do you
think Sultan Oh, how terrible!

I dont know, Nimmi, I cant say, but
hey! he pointed down the road. There goes
Babu Lal. Come lets find out, if he buys
meat for Sultan. Run ahead. Ill tell Mum,
well be back in an hour.

Under the cover of cars and trees, Nimmi
and Parveen trailed Babu Lal. They followed
him all the way to Hazrat Market.

The old mans first stop was the meat shop.
He is buying Sultans meat, Nimmi, cried
Parveen in relief. Sultan is alive.

Nimmi hugged her brother. You were right,
Parveen, it was all psychological. Thank God,
Babu Lal is an honest man.

Just as she was about to run over to the old
man, who was now standing in front of a
silversmiths shop he lifted his bags and
stepped inside.

Whats he doing there? asked Nimmi,
astonished. Come, lets get closer.

Parveen and Nimmi crept up from behind a
loaded push-cart. They watched the
shopkeeper take a small silver tray from the
old man and weigh it in his hand
thoughtfully before putting it on the scales.

I cant believe it! cried Parveen. Babu Lal
is a thief. Why, hell sell off old Mrs.
Bulabais entire silver, piece by piece.

Oh God! said Nimmi, weak with shock. We
must call the police! See, hes taking money.
Hes coming. What shall we do, Parveen?

Run! Hide! Lets go into the sweetshop
round the corner. Its always crowded.
Parveen bolted off. Nimmi shot up, but her
head banged against the edge of a wooden
crate.

Parveen, she cried out in pain. But Parveen
was far ahead and did not hear her. Her
head spinning, Nimmi looked for a hiding
place close by. She darted behind a pile of
plastic buckets, in front of a general
merchants store. Crouching low, her back
pre
sse
d
aga
inst
the
shu
tter
s of
the
adj
oini
ng
sho
p,
she
wai
ted
for
Bab
u
Lal
to
pass her. Scared to raise her eyes above the
pavement level, she watched a succession of
feel walk by in rubber sandals, high-heeled
pumps, polished black shoes. Then a pair of
worn out slippers came into view. Babu Lals.
She knew it, without having to look up. The
slippers passed her, returned and stopped
before her.

Is
tha
t
you
,
Nim
mi?

the
old
ma
ns
voic
e
rea
che
d
her
.
W
hat
are
you
doing here?

Nimmis heart jumped with fright. I I,
she stammered, we are playing here. Hide
and seek. Parveen and the others.

Here? So far from your home! The old man
looked at her suspiciously. I thought I saw
you from the meat shop. Youre following
me, arent you?

Why? Why? rasped the old man. Why did
you come to Bulabai Mansion? You want
something! I can see that! But I warn you, if
I ever see you around that house again, I
I Ill teach you a lesson youll never
forget.

No, whispered Nimmi, confused, no I
mean yes, and watched the old man shuffle
out of sight.

Hey, Nimmi. Her brother shook her by the
arm. What is wrong? I was waiting

Listen, Nimmi interrupted him, Babu Lal
has changed. He looks dangerous. She told
Parveen about her encounter. We have to
inform the police.

Not the police, said Parveen. We have no
proof against him. But we must tell Feroz
Uncle. Lets get his address.

But neither their parents not the neighbours
had Feroz Uncles address. If we had, we
would have written to him long ago, they
said. That house is falling to pieces. Whats
that servant up to?

The next day Nimmi noticed Babu Lal
hastening past their house. Why is he in
such a hurry so late in the evening? she
asked Parveen. Come, lets follow him.

Not today, said Parveen. This is a good
chance to check on Bulabai Mansion. Isnt it
Sultans feed time? Come, we might catch a
glimpse of him in the back veranda. Wait, Ill
get a torch! Parveen and Nimmi ran down
the street and were at the mansion in a
trice. They passed the ornate gate, and ran
through the park towards the back wall of
the Mansion.

Suddenly Parveen stopped dead in his
tracks. Wait, someone is climbing the wall.

Thieves! Robbers! Oh God, Parveen!

Shh, Nimmi. See, hes almost reached the
top!

He looks familiar! Why its BB. Nimmis
heart missed a beat. Hes breaking into the
house.

Shh, Nimmi. Maybe hes trying to kill Sultan
by throwing in some poisoned food. We have
to stop him. Nimmi, lets get closer. Quietly
now.

The two children slipped silently past the
trees and soon stood directly under the boy
astride the wall, looking around
surreptitiously.

If you jump inside, said Parveen sternly,
Ill call the police. Startled, the boy looked
down.

Hah! Its you, Parveen, you big mouth. And
what brings you to this part of the world at
this time of the day?

Certainly not what made you come here,
BB, Parveen replied scornfully. Ive come
to save Sultan from you!

Save Sultan from me! cried the boy
looking genuinely surprised. But Ive told
Nimmi a million times that Sultan is dead. I
saw the old man bury him with my own
eyes.

The ground under Nimmis feet seemed to
give way. She held onto Parveen. Youre
lying, she cried, Youre lying.

No, Im not.

Yes, you are you you Her voice
broke off. Parveen put a hand on Nimmis
shoulder. Thats okay, Nimmi, he said
softly, and turning to BB he asked, Why
have you come here?

I heard a strange cry, returned BB
seriously. I think theres a ghost in Bulabai
Mansion.

A ghost? Dont be silly. Parveen laughed
dryly. Who would have thought you
believed in ghosts, BB?

Well, said the boy, squirming
uncomfortably. I dont. But that cry it
was frightening. Come up here, quickly,
theres something moving in the grass.

Parveen shinned up the wall. Then both the
boys pulled Nimmi up by her hands.

Shh, warned BB. I can hear something.

Nimmi searched the twilit garden, looking at
the back veranda, where Sultan normally
ate. Near an arched door were two bowls,
one filled with rice and meat, the other with
water.

The children waited. Night descended on the
building like a soft veil. The wind stopped.
The twitter of birds diednothing could be
heard but their own heartbeats hammering
against their chests.

There! A rustle. Nimmis hair stood on end. A
shadow moved through the grass. Sultan!
Sultan! Had he come?

Nimmi held her breath. She stared at a
massive form as it leapt and landed on the
veranda with a soft thud. It padded towards
the food and fell to it ravenously.

Oh, God! said Nimmi tonelessly. It isnt
Sultan. Its a cat.

It was a huge, wild cat. Its dark coat almost
merged into the purple darkness that
enveloped the house.

Its a cat that eats Sultans food, cried
Parveen. Oh, God! Sultan is dead! His
voice cracked. He looked at Nimmi. He
couldnt see her face but he knew she was
crying.

A cat! said BB shocked. But why does
Babu Lal feed a cat? Why does he keep on
buying the meat when he knows Sultan is
dead?

Maybe, said Nimmi, her voice low and
strained. Maybe he wants to believe that
Sultan is alive. He loved him so much. He
cant do without him!

The poor old man, whispered BB. But I
saw him bury the dog. He knows hes dead.

Its all psychological. Said Parveen
reflectively. Its very complicated! It has
something to do with the mind and the
soul. He paused. But what bothers me is
why hes selling Mr. Bulabais antiques.

Money, replied BB. He needs money.
Maybe he has run out of what Feroz Uncle
sends him.

Nimmi nodded. She watched the cat sit
down contentedly and lick her coat. Then the
animal stretched her back and let out a
high-pitched wail, just like the cry of a
young woman weeping in despair.

So thats it! Said Nimmi. Thats what we
heard.

Theres your ghost, laughed Parveen and
nudged the boy standing next to him. The
ghost of Bulabai Mansion.

BB snickered uncomfortably. For the first
time he seemed to be short of words.

Nimmi felt weary and cold. Lets go home,
Parveen, she said finally. Lets find a way
to help Babu Lal. Addressing BB she asked,
Are you joining us?

BB stared at her, astonished. Then dropping
his eyes he replied softly, I would like to.

It was Sunday when Nimmi and BB rang the
bell at the gate of Bulabai Mansion. Hey,
Babu Lal, they greeted the old man, who
staggered down the garden path.

What do you want? Babu Lal asked, eyeing
them suspiciously. Ive told you to leave me
alone. Get off! He waved them away
angrily.

Babu Lal, said Nimmi, lifting up a black-
and-fawn puppy in her arms, take him. We
have found him!

Found whom? asked the old man.

Sultan! Little Sultan. Come, hes calling
you.

The old mans face paled. With shaking
hands, he opened the gate. Sultan? he
asked softly. Sultan!

He took the puppy, hugged it against his
chest and rocked it tenderly.

Sultan, he whispered hoarsely. Sultan
Sahib. I knew you would come back to me.
And tears rolled down his wrinkled cheeks.

Then he turned to the children and sighed,
Now everything will be all right. Last week I
got a letter from Feroz Sahib. He is coming
back. He has sent some money, too. Thats
how I could get it back!

Get what back, Babu Lal?

The silver tray! My silver tray. The one Bara
Memsahib gave me for my wedding. I had to
pawn it. There was no money for Sultan
Sahibs food. He looked around him, as if he
was seeing the house, the garden, the bright
blue sky for the first time after a long, long
illness. Oh, isnt it a wonderful day, he
asked, a wonderful, beautiful day!