Feathers in the Wind (2 page)

Joe leant his head against his mother’s shoulder. ‘Will I be able to help with the injured vultures?’ he asked.

‘They might be a bit of a sorry sight,’ Binti replied.

‘Do they just fall from the sky when the kites injure them?’

‘I suppose some might. Others will try to keep flying until they find somewhere safe to land.’ Binti squeezed his hand. ‘Sometimes it’s very difficult for humans and animals to live side by side, yet we’re so very dependent upon each other. Nobody wants the vultures to be hurt, but the kite festival is an important tradition.’

Joe closed his eyes. He started to imagine a sky full of kites in a multitude of colours, shapes and sizes, dancing merrily in the breeze. Some of them had faces, smiling faces. He smiled back at them. Gradually, the breeze grew stronger, turning into a powerful wind. The faces began to change. The kites began to whip and snap. The wind became a howling gale and the faces grew stern, then angry. Suddenly, the sky was filled with feathers, brown, white and grey, and speckled among them were eyes wide with fear. The kites swooped and swept through the feathers, tearing them apart, until they were powerless to resist such force and plummeted to the ground. There they shivered and fretted in forlorn heaps, while the kites, smiling once more, danced again in the breeze.

When Joe woke, he didn’t know where he was for a moment and felt unaccountably anxious.

‘Not long now,’ his mother said. ‘They’re about to bring some food and then we’ll be preparing to land.’

‘I don’t think I want to watch the kites,’ he murmured.

Binti looked at him questioningly, and then said reassuringly, ‘We’ll enjoy the festival because it’s a wonderful event and we’re very lucky to be able to join in the celebrations. We’ll do our best for the vultures too. It’s in everybody’s interest to keep the vulture population healthy.’

Joe nodded and cheered up. ‘Can I have my own kite then?’ he asked again.

Chapter 4

One flight was followed swiftly by another from Delhi to Ahmedabad, but at last the Brook family were on the ground and making their way through passport control.
Dad was right
, Joe thought as soon as they had collected their luggage, walked through the arrivals hall and out into the street.
It
is
hot and noisy and chaotic!
They had been met by a driver, who was waving a piece of paper that read,
Mrs Bindu Brook
, much to Joe’s amusement. The driver, who introduced himself as Ravi and said he would be looking after them during their stay, loaded their bags on to a trolley then wove his way haphazardly through queues of waiting traffic towards a crowded car park. He stopped by a big black car that looked, Joe thought, like something out of a gangster movie.

‘It’s an old Wolseley!’ exclaimed Peter. ‘They don’t make them like that any more.’

He walked all round the car, stroking the bonnet and peering inside.

‘It’s got a walnut dashboard and velour seats. It’s beautiful,’ he said. ‘Do you mind if I take a photo?’

Joe watched Ravi nod eagerly and blossom with pride.

‘I am honoured for you to take a photo, sir,’ the driver said.

‘What’s so exciting about a car?’ Aesha asked. ‘There are millions of them.’

‘Ah, but not like this,’ Peter replied. ‘They’re a rarity now. Besides, it’ll remind us of our first journey on Indian soil.’

They waited while he retrieved his camera from its case and took several shots of the car from different angles, one of them with Ravi posing next to it.

When they got into the car at last, Joe gazed out of the window, looking forward to the adventure that was about to begin. From the minute they set off, however, he found himself shrinking towards his sister, who was sitting in the middle, as cars and lorries hurtled along
just centimetres away from them.

‘They drive so close together!’ Aesha exclaimed.

‘The horn rules, I think,’ said Peter. ‘Hold on to your hats!’

They must have loads of accidents
, Joe thought, watching a car squeeze in between an autorickshaw and a truck.

‘You are safe with me,’ said Ravi. ‘You are here for the kites?’

‘We’re here for the vultures,’ Binti replied.

Ravi looked back at her in the mirror, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘The vultures?’ he repeated.

‘My wife is a vet,’ Peter told him. ‘She’s come to help save vultures that are injured by the kites.’

‘You come all the way from England to help our vultures?’ The driver was impressed. ‘I’ve lived all my life in Ahmedabad and I did not know that our kites are injuring vultures.’

‘They’re an endangered species,’ Joe blurted out.

Aesha elbowed him in the ribs and mouthed at him to shush
.
He glared at her.
What’s wrong with saying that?
he thought.

Binti explained the different reasons for the decline in vulture numbers.

Ravi became very thoughtful and then asked, ‘Do you think our kite festival is wrong – that we should stop it?’

Binti shook her head. ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘It’s an important tradition. But it’s also important that we minimise the impact on the vulture population now they’ve become so vulnerable.’

‘We can’t wait to see the kites,’ added Joe. ‘Dad and I are going to take lots of photos.’ He was keen to make sure the driver hadn’t thought he was being critical previously.

‘My boy, he is like you – he cannot wait for the festival to begin. The day after tomorrow, we go to the shops and we buy his kite for him. You should go there too. There are many, many to choose from. But perhaps you are too afraid for the vultures.’

‘We’ll see,’ said Peter, glancing round at Joe. ‘We’ll certainly have a look.’

‘You let me know and I will take you,’ Ravi replied. ‘It will be my great pleasure.’

They had arrived at the hotel, which had numerous pillars holding up an extensive canopy over the main entrance. A multitude of coloured lights made it stand out imperiously against the darkening night sky. Joe was struck by how grand it was. He hadn’t expected that, even if his parents had told him it had a pool and a gym. They were greeted by a doorman, sporting a large white turban and a long red coat with yellow braiding, who arranged for a porter to take their bags from Ravi, and ushered them through a revolving door into a huge reception area clad in marble and gold.

‘Cool!’ Aesha gasped. ‘Better than staff headquarters any day.’

‘It’s called the Palace. You’ll feel at home here, princess,’ Peter said, winking at her.

Aesha groaned. ‘You’re so boring, Dad,’ she said.

‘But while I hold the purse strings, you’ll have to be nice to me,’ he responded.

‘It’s just like a palace, isn’t it?’ said Joe, who had been gazing around in awe. ‘Look at all those statues.’

‘They’re Hindu gods and goddesses.’ Binti walked towards them and pointed at one that resembled a monkey. ‘This one here is called Hanuman and is worshipped as a symbol of physical strength and perseverance. The one with the elephant head is Ganesha, the Hindu god of success. That’s where my knowledge runs out, I’m afraid.’

‘You know the animal ones because you’re a vet,’ observed Joe.

‘I like the female one,’ said Aesha. ‘She’s beautiful.’ She was standing in front of a smiling figure holding a flower in two of
her four hands and sitting cross-legged in a large lotus flower.

‘She is Lakshmi, our goddess of wealth, beauty and prosperity.’ A hotel attendant had joined them. He led them along the row of statues and named them all in turn. ‘And this is Shiva,’ he said when they reached the final statue.

Joe stared at the blue face, the third eye in the middle of its forehead and the cobra round its neck.

‘His role is to destroy the universe in order to recreate it,’ the attendant explained. Then he added, ‘Welcome to our country. I hope you will have an enjoyable stay.’

Chapter 5

Joe was relieved to find cereal and toast on offer for breakfast the next morning. He had enjoyed the meal the previous evening – a selection of different curries that allowed him to pick and choose – but he was ready for something sweeter and more familiar. A local coordinator from the Animal Aid Service, which was closely involved in vulture conservation, had arrived at the hotel in time to join them for breakfast, and Joe watched him tuck into a plate of rice and spicy vegetables with obvious enjoyment. His name was Sachin. He was young and good-looking, sported sunglasses perched on his head, wore jeans and a lumberjack shirt and spoke enthusiastically in impeccable English. Joe immediately decided he was the coolest person he had ever met, especially when Sachin wanted to know all about him.

‘How old are you, Joe, and what do you want to be when you grow up?’ Sachin asked.

Joe told him he was nine and wanted to be a photographer.

‘Nine’s a good age,’ Sachin responded. ‘At nine you can do most things and you can have big dreams.’

Aesha pulled a face. Joe thought she was going to say something derogatory, but she lost the opportunity when Sachin continued, ‘When I was nine I wanted to be a pilot or a doctor, but I fell in love with animals and now I’m training to be a vet like your mother.’

‘I might be a vet too,’ Joe added hastily.

‘Then perhaps one day we will be working side by side.’

Sachin grinned encouragingly at him, before turning his attention to Aesha. Joe was amused to see his sister blush and for once she seemed unsure of herself, though it didn’t stop her mentioning that she wanted to swim for her country, an ambition which clearly impressed the young Indian. Joe was keen to regain the spotlight and asked if he planned to fly a kite during the festival.

Sachin shook his head. ‘I’ll be too busy helping your mother and the other vets and volunteers with the injured vultures. It’ll be a very long eighteen hours or more for all of us.’

‘No sleep for the virtuous, eh?’ said Peter. ‘Or do I mean vulturous?’

Aesha groaned loudly. ‘You’ll have to excuse our father,’ she said to Sachin. ‘He cracks the worst jokes.’

‘Will I be able to help?’ Joe aimed the question at his mother, even though he knew what her answer would be.

‘No, Joe,’ Binti replied. ‘From what I understand, this is a frantically busy time for everyone. There won’t be any opportunity for you and Aesha to be involved. Besides, you’ll want to be watching the kites.’

‘And taking photos,’ Peter reminded him.

‘Have you ever flown a kite?’ Sachin looked questioningly from Joe to Aesha.

Joe shook his head immediately, while Aesha muttered something about having tried to fly one at a friend’s house and failing miserably.

‘Then you must learn,’ said Sachin. ‘Tomorrow, if you like, I will show you how.’ He sought approval from Peter and Binti.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ said Binti. ‘I’m sure they’d love to.’

Joe nodded eagerly. He was excited at the thought of
learning to fly a kite in a strange city hundreds of miles from home. This would surely be the start of
a big adventure. He secretly hoped Aesha would turn her nose up at Sachin’s offer, but she too appeared enthusiastic.

‘We’ll go tomorrow after breakfast, before I’m swept away in a flurry of broken wings.’ Sachin spoke lightly but frowned at the same time. ‘And now I must sweep your mother away to show her where she’ll be based during the festival.’

It was then that Joe understood just how much work there was to be done in saving the injured vultures. Binti and the other vets and volunteers would be up all day and all night during the festival and only able to snatch the odd half an hour of sleep in a guest house close to the rescue centre. While he and his father and sister slept in their plush hotel, his mother would be saving birds’ lives in what he imagined would be a hot, smelly, crowded room. He wished again that he could be there doing whatever he could to help.
It must be so rewarding being a vet
, he thought.
It must be such a good feeling to save an animal’s life
.

‘And I’m going to sweep you two away to see the sights of Ahmedabad on a normal day before kite fever takes over,’ Peter informed Joe and Aesha. ‘First stop Gandhi’s headquarters, second stop a textile museum, third stop a temple, fourth stop Science City. How does that sound?’

Joe looked at his sister and could see that she was as dismayed as he was. It sounded so boring!

All Joe wanted to do was fly kites and help his mother with the vultures. He had never heard of Gandhi, and he really wasn’t interested in a textile museum. Joe was relieved when his father said that perhaps they should save that bit for when Binti could be with them. He perked up even more when Sachin told him Science City was structured like a theme park. He could cope with a temple if it was followed by a thrill ride.

Chapter 6

Ravi was outside the hotel waiting for them bright and early the following morning. ‘I will be your driver and guide for the day,’ he said.

He obviously relished his role. He took them off the beaten track on the way to the popular sights, so they were able to see people going about their daily lives – hanging out washing, feeding children, scrubbing doorsteps, grinding spices, or simply sitting and watching the world go by. Joe was struck by how poor some of them seemed to be, and felt a bit uncomfortable peering out at them from the plush velour seats of the car. But passers-by waved at them and Ravi wound down his window to chat animatedly with anyone who flagged him down.