Notice: I have written in other languages, many interesting articles that you
can read translated in English
in these links:
Part 1 and Part 2.


THE MYSTERIOUS MANSION OF THE MASTERS IN MUMBAI




About this enigmatic residence, Colonel Olcott mentioned the following:

« There were a series of strange occurrences in which my friend Mooljee Thackersey was a witness. For example, on March 29, 1879, the day in question, Blavatsky told Mooljee to fetch a buggy, and, when it came, mounted into it with him. She refused to answer his questions as to whither she was going, simply telling him to order the driver to turn to right or left or go straight ahead, as she might direct.

What happened Mooljee told us on their return in the evening. She had directed the course by numerous windings of streets and country roads, until they found themselves at a suburb of Bombay [Mumbai], eight or ten miles distant, in a grove of coniferæ. The name is not written in my Diary, but I think it was Parel, though I may be mistaken. At any rate, Mooljee knew the place, because he had cremated his mother's body in that neighborhood.

Roads and paths crossed each other confusedly in the wood, but Blavatsky never faltered as to her course, and bade the driver turn and turn until they came to the seashore. Finally, to Mooljee's amazement, they were brought up by the gate of a private estate, with a magnificent rose-garden in front and a fine bungalow with spacious Eastern verandahs in the back ground.

Blavatsky climbed down and told Mooljee to await her there, and not for his life to dare come to the house. So there he waited in a complete puzzle; for such a property he, a lifelong resident of Bombay, had never heard of before.

He called one of several gardeners who were hoeing the flowers, but the man would tell him nothing as to his master's name, how long he had lived there, or when the bungalow was built: a most unusual thing among Hindus.

Blavatsky had walked straight up to the house, had been received cordially at the door by a tall Hindu of striking and distinguished appearance, clad entirely in white, and had gone inside.

After some time the two reappeared, the mysterious stranger bade her farewell, and handed her a great bunch of roses which one of the gardeners brought to his master for the purpose, and Blavatsky rejoined her escort, re-entered the buggy, and ordered the driver to return home.

All that Mooljee could draw out of Blavatsky was that the stranger was an Occultist with whom she was in relation and had business to transact that day. And the strangest part of this story to us was that, so far as we knew, there was no possibility of Blavatsky having learnt anything about his suburb and the way to it, at any rate since out arrival at Bombay, for she had never left the house alone, yet that she had shown the completes familiarity with both.


Mooljee was so amazed with his experience as to go on telling it to his friends in the town, which led one, who professed to know the suburb in question perfectly, to lay a wager of 100 rupees that there was no such bungalow by the seashore and that Mooljee could not guide anyone to it.

When Blavatsky heard this, she offered to bet Mooljee that he would lose the other wager; whereupon he, declaring that he could retrace every foot of the way by which they had gone, closed with the offer, and I had a carriage called at once, and we three entered it.

By another Hindu interpreter, I ordered the coachman, to strictly follow Mr. Mooljee's directions as to our route, and off we went. After a long drive by devious ways, we reached the wood, in whose shady depths the, mysterious bungalow was supposed to stand.

The, soil was almost pure sea-sand, bestrewn with a brown mulch of pine-needles, or those of some other conifer, possibly the casuarina. We could see a number of roads running in different directions, and I told Mooljee that he must keep a sharp look-out, or he, would assuredly get lost. He, however, was as confident as possible, despite the gibes thrown at him by Blavatsky about his state of mystification and the certain loss of his 100 rupees.

For an hour we drove on, now to this side, now to the other, now stopping for' him to dismount from the box and look about him.

At last—and just a minute or so after his declaring: himself perfectly sure that we were driving straight for the seaside bungalow—a train rattled by on a near embankment, and thus showed poor Mooljee that he had guided us in the very opposite direction from the one desired!

We offered to give him as much time as he liked to pursue his search, but he felt completely baffled and gave in as beaten. So we drove home.


There, Blavatsky told all of us that Mooljee would have found the mystical bungalow if a glamour had not been brought to bear on his sight, and, moreover, that the bungalow, like all other spots inhabited by Adepts, was always protected from the intrusion of strangers by a circle of illusion formed about it and guarded and kept potent by elemental servitors.

This particular bungalow was in the constant keeping of an agent who could be relied upon, and used as an occasional resting and meeting place by the Masters and his disciples when travelling.

All the buried ancient libraries, and those vast hoards of treasure which must be kept hidden until its Karma requires its restoration to human use, are, she said, protected from discovery by the profane, by illusory pictures of solid rocks, unbroken solid ground, a yawning chasm, or some such obstacle, which turns aside the feet of the wrong men, but which Mâya [illusion] dissolves away when the predestined finder comes to the spot in the fullness of time. »
(Old Diary Leaves II, chapter 4)




No comments:

Post a Comment