Pret in the House

A watercolor illustration, bathed in the warm glow of a late afternoon sun, depicting a large, ancient peepul tree with gnarled roots growing through a crumbling brick wall softened by moss and ivy. Golden light filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows. One side of the tree extends into a lush, vibrant garden bursting with hibiscus and marigolds, their colors intensely saturated. The other side overhangs a busy road with vintage, brightly colored cars – a turquoise Ambassador, a sunshine yellow Fiat – a sputtering, exhaust-filled bus, and a slow-moving horse-drawn cart piled high with goods. People walking by clutch their hats against a sudden gust of wind, their expressions a mixture of surprise and amusement. Dust motes dance in the sunlight filtering through the leaves. The illustration should evoke a nostalgic, slightly dreamlike feeling. Artistic style: fluid watercolor with soft blending and a natural, unforced flow. Emphasize the texture of the brick, bark, and fabric.

Grandmother decided we had to move to a new house. It was all because of a silly ghost who was making life super annoying for everyone!

In India, these ghosts usually live in peepul trees. Our ghost first lived in the branches of a really old peepul tree. It had grown right through the wall around our yard and spread into our garden on one side, and over the road on the other.

For many years, the ghost lived there happily, without bothering us. I guess all the cars and trucks on the road kept him busy. Sometimes, when a horse-drawn cart went by, he would scare the pony. Then the little cart would wobble off the road! Sometimes he would sneak into a car or bus engine, and it would break down soon after. And he liked to knock hats off people’s heads. They would get mad and wonder why a breeze suddenly blew up, then stopped right away. Even though the ghost could make us feel him and sometimes hear him, we couldn’t see him.

At night, people didn’t walk under the peepul tree. They said if you yawned under it, the ghost would jump down your throat and mess up your tummy! Grandmother’s tailor, Jaspal, who was always late with her clothes, blamed the ghost for everything. Once, when Jaspal yawned, he forgot to snap his fingers in front of his mouth. You always have to do that under peepul trees! The ghost jumped right in. Ever since, Jaspal had tummy troubles.

But he hadn’t bothered our family until one day, the peepul tree was cut down. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault, except Grandfather let the road workers cut down the tree on our land. They wanted to make the road wider, and the tree was in the way. So the tree and part of the wall had to go. Well, even a ghost can’t win against road workers! But the very next day, we found out the ghost, without his tree, had moved into our house! And since a good ghost has to be bad to be a ghost, he started causing all sorts of trouble.

First, he hid Grandmother’s glasses whenever she took them off. ‘I know I put them on the table,’ she’d grumble. Then we’d find them balanced on the nose of a stuffed wild boar that hung on the wall! I was the only kid in the house, so I got blamed at first. But a day or two later, the glasses vanished again, only to be found hanging from the parrot’s cage! Everyone agreed someone else, a ghost maybe, was doing it.

A watercolor illustration depicting Grandmother’s spectacles, thin gold frames slightly askew, balanced precariously on the snout of a surprisingly lifelike stuffed wild boar mounted on a deep red, textured wallpaper wall in a cozy living room. The room is filled with traditional Indian furniture and decorations: a intricately carved wooden sofa draped with embroidered cushions, a brass oil lamp casting a warm, flickering light, and colorful rangoli patterns on the worn, wooden floor. A young boy, no older than ten, his eyes wide with surprise and a hint of mischievous glee, points accusingly at the boar with a dramatic flourish. He wears a slightly rumpled kurta pajama. The light is soft and diffused, creating long shadows that suggest it is late evening. Color palette should be warm and inviting, with pops of bright color from the cushions and rangoli. Artistic style: loose watercolor with detailed rendering of the boar’s bristles and the texture of the furniture.

Next, Grandfather was in trouble. He went into the garden one morning and found all his pretty flowers cut off and lying on the ground.

A watercolor illustration of Grandfather in his garden, kneeling sadly amidst rows of flowers – vibrant red roses, cheerful yellow sunflowers, delicate white jasmine – all with their heads brutally cut off. The severed flower heads are scattered on the damp earth around him, their colors beginning to fade. He is wearing a faded, comfortable traditional Indian kurta pajama, his face etched with grief and confusion, his hands stained with earth. The morning sun casts long, stark shadows across the scene. The air is thick with the scent of cut flowers and wet earth. Focus on capturing the textures: the rough earth, the delicate petals, the soft fabric of his clothing. The color palette should be muted and melancholic, reflecting his sorrow. A watering can lies discarded beside him. Artistic style: expressive watercolor with a focus on capturing emotion through facial expressions and body language.

Uncle Ken was next. He slept very soundly, and he hated being woken up. So when he came to breakfast looking grumpy, we asked if he was okay. ‘I couldn’t sleep at all last night!’ he said. ‘Every time I was about to fall asleep, the blankets would be pulled off the bed! I had to get up a lot to pick them up.’ He glared at me. ‘Where were you sleeping last night, young man?’ I had an excuse. ‘In Grandfather’s room,’ I said. ‘That’s right,’ said Grandfather. ‘And I sleep lightly. I would have heard him if he was walking in his sleep.’ ‘It’s that ghost from the peepul tree!’ said Grandmother. ‘He’s moved into the house! First my glasses, then the flowers, and now Ken’s blankets! What will he do next?’ We didn’t have to wait long to find out. Lots of bad things happened. Vases fell off tables, and pictures fell off the walls. Parrot feathers showed up in the tea, and the parrot squawked loudly in the middle of the night. Uncle Ken found a bird’s nest in his bed, and when he threw it out the window, two crows attacked him!

A watercolor illustration of Uncle Ken sitting bolt upright in bed, looking thoroughly frustrated and bewildered. His threadbare, patterned blankets are being pulled off the bed by an unseen force, revealing wrinkled pajamas underneath. The room is dimly lit by a single flickering gas lamp, suggesting it is the dead of night. The walls are painted a faded turquoise, and there’s a small, dusty window with heavy curtains drawn shut. Details to include: a creaking wooden floor, a chipped bedside table with a half-empty glass of water, and shadows playing mischievously across the walls. Capture the texture of the rough blanket and the smoothness of the glass. Use a limited color palette of blues, grays, and browns to create a sense of unease. Artistic style: subtly suggestive watercolor, hinting at the supernatural rather than explicitly depicting it.

When Aunt Minnie came to visit, things got worse. The ghost seemed to hate Aunt Minnie right away. She was a nervous person, just the kind of person a mean ghost would pick on. Somehow, her toothpaste got switched with Grandfather’s shaving cream. When she came into the living room with foam all over her face, we ran away! Uncle Ken shouted that she had a disease!

A watercolor illustration of Aunt Minnie standing in a living room with white shaving cream liberally covering her face, her eyes wide with shock. Splatters of cream are visible on the surrounding furniture. Other family members are in the background, running away and laughing hysterically (except Grandmother, who stands rigid with disapproval, her scowl a mask of displeasure). The room is brightly lit, filled with sunlight streaming through a large window. Details to include: a floral-patterned sofa, a glass-topped coffee table littered with magazines, and a framed photograph of the family looking happy and carefree. Focus on capturing the energy and chaos of the scene, using bold colors and dynamic brushstrokes. Highlight the contrast between the lighthearted laughter of the younger family members and Grandmother’s stern disapproval. Artistic style: energetic and expressive watercolor with a focus on capturing movement and emotion.

Two days later, Aunt Minnie said she had been hit on the nose by a grapefruit! It had jumped off the shelf in the pantry all by itself and flew across the room right at her! Her nose was red and swollen. Aunt Minnie said her life was calmer somewhere else.

‘We have to leave this house!’ said Grandmother. ‘If we stay here any longer, Ken and Minnie will get really upset.’ ‘I thought Aunt Minnie was already upset,’ I said. ‘Don’t be rude!’ snapped Aunt Minnie. ‘Anyway, I agree we should move,’ I said. ‘I can’t even do my homework. My ink bottle is always empty!’ ‘There was ink in the soup last night,’ said Grandfather.

So, a few days and many problems later, we started moving to a new house. Two carts pulled by cows, filled with furniture and bags, went ahead. The roof of the old car was piled high with bags and kitchen stuff. Everyone squeezed into the car, and Grandfather drove.

A watercolor illustration of a vintage car (perhaps a Hindustan Ambassador) overloaded with luggage – suitcases, bags, bundles tied with rope – and precariously balanced kitchenware – pots, pans, even a pressure cooker – teetering on its roof. The family (Grandfather driving, his brow furrowed in concentration, Grandmother, Uncle Ken, Aunt Minnie, and the boy) are squeezed inside the car, looking apprehensive and cramped. Their faces reflect a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Two bullock carts filled with furniture – beds, wardrobes, tables – are visible lumbering slowly behind the car, leaving through the open gate of a crumbling haveli. The scene is bathed in the harsh light of midday. The dust kicked up by the bullock carts hangs in the air. Capture the textures of the dusty road, the rough ropes, and the worn fabric of the luggage. The color palette should be warm and earthy, reflecting the Indian landscape. Artistic style: detailed and evocative watercolor, capturing the sense of a family embarking on a momentous journey.

We had just left the gate when we heard a funny sound. It sounded like someone was chuckling and talking to himself on the roof of the car. ‘Is the parrot on top of the car?’ asked Grandfather. ‘No, he’s in his cage on one of the carts,’ said Grandmother.

Grandfather stopped the car, got out, and looked at the roof. ‘Nothing up there,’ he said, getting back in and starting the car. ‘I’m sure I heard the parrot talking.’ Grandfather drove for a while when the chuckling started again, followed by a squeaky little voice. We all heard it. It was the ghost talking to himself. ‘Let’s go, let’s go!’ he squeaked happily. ‘A new house! I can’t wait to see it! This will be so much fun!’

A watercolor illustration of Grandfather standing beside the car, his hand scratching his head in utter confusion. He is looking up at the roof in disbelief. The family are peering out of the car windows with concerned expressions, their faces pressed against the glass. A faint, almost ethereal, transparent outline of a mischievous ghost – perhaps a small impish figure with a playful grin – is barely visible hovering above the car roof, its form shimmering and indistinct. The sky is a clear, bright blue, but a subtle shadow falls across the scene, hinting at something unseen. The details of the car are rendered with care, showing its age and character. The color palette is bright and cheerful, but with a subtle hint of otherworldly mystery. Artistic style: delicate and nuanced watercolor, using subtle gradients and washes to create the illusion of transparency and ethereal presence.

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