Kamala Nair

Illustrations
Shankar Sen
ISBN 978-81-237-2000-5
First Edition 1978
Reprints 1982, 1992, 1997, 2004, 2005, 2008, 2009, 2011,
2014, 2018, 2019, 2023 (Saka 1944)

© Kamala Nair, 1978

~ 45.00

Published by the Director, National Book Trust, India

Nehru Bhawan, 5 Institutional Area, Phase-II
Vasant Kunj, New Delhi-110 070
Website : www. nbtindia.gov.in
Nehru Bal Pustakalaya

The Day The River Spoke

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KAMALA NAIR
Illustrations
‘SHANKAR SEN

NATIONAL BOOK TRUST, INDIA nbt.india

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Janu wriggled through the gap in the bamboo fence and
walked down the path between the paddy fields. The paddy
lay green and soft as far as the eye could see—to the east
where blue grey hills were tall against the morning sky, to
the west till it met the railway track, and before her, south-
wards, right up to where the green river slipped and slid
through shale and boulder to the sea.

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 She could not see the sea, of course. But Chandu, the
fisherman, had long stories to tell of the river’s journey to
the sea and how skillfully he had to row his boat at the
river's mouth. It was wonderful to listen tothe stories
Chandu had to tell and to see the fish he brought, rowing up
river from the sea—the clams and mussels and the silvery
sardines that all her village loved, and the dogfish that was
cured and salted and hung from the kitchen rafter in a
plaited basket made of palm leaves.
All along the river by the edge of the fields were the co-
conut palms, their leaves feathery in the sunlight, and when
the big, round moon rose above the hills, the leaves were
wet with moonlight and they rustled. Sometimes when the
» ~ breeze swept through the bamboo clumps by the river one
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| ‘could hear a delicate “rat-tat-tat”—the reed song that the
- bamboos liked to sing.|
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 Janu walked a little slowly now, sniffing the salt air which
blew landwards from the sea. Sometimes, she stopped to
pick up the small flat stones which she saved for skimming
on the still water of the tank in Meena’s house. The red silk
cotton tree was a glory of colour and the gnarled, twisted
branches of the frangipani were laden with blossom. She
plucked two, folding the petals back so that they looked like
ear-rings. Their scent was lovely and warm and she put some
in her hair as well.
She noticed a tiny yellow spider in the golden heart of a
flower. She shrank from it at first, then she shook the flower,
and the spider spun a long thread and fell to the ground. A
tiny, golden spider.
“T hardly saw it at first,” thought Janu, “it was so yellow,
just like the flower.’’ She had seen brown spiders and large
black ones which always scared her, but never one this
colour.
She reached the river bank and sat on her favourite rock,
her hands cupping her chin. She had long, bright eyes which
her mother had darkened with lamp-black and antimony
and her hair was bunched up in a knot.
A green lizard slid from under the rock and disappeared
into the bamboo. A copper-smith sounded its “Honk honk,
honky tonk,” in the distance. The river went past, its mur-
mur soft in the stillness, and Janu said to herself—she loved
talking to herself—<I’ve never seen a yellow one before.
Why do yellow spiders hide in yellow flowers? Imust ask
Pitan,”
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 Ettan went to school where the teacher had taught him to
read and write, and he used to sit in their verandah, loudly
reading his lessons over and over again. All the boys in their
village went to school, she noticed. But not all the girls.

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 Meena went, of course, but that was different. Meena had
no brothers or sisters and her father was the village head-
man. Why, her mother even wore gold “‘zari” on her blouse
when she went to the big town in the railway train, and she
had a fine black umbrella, and Meena had one too, a small
black one with a red tassel.
Most of the others in their village used palm-leaf umbrel-
las which they wore on their heads like a hat with a wide
brim. It was much easier to work in the fields in rainy
weather when one wore a palm-leaf umbrella, because it left
both one’s hands free, but a black umbrella was so much
nicer to have.
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cant I go to school like Ettan and

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“Bttan” because Ettan means
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Mother ha
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 ‘But Meena is a girl and she goes to school.”
‘‘Meena’s father his a lot of money,” said Father who
had come in from the fields. “Sending girls to school, in-
deed! Learning to cook is what they need. And sweeping
> ‘and pounding rice and helpingin the harvest. —-
And Big Uncle who lay on his straw mat in the corner sat
up and said: “What’s that? What’s that? Getting lazy, is
she? A bamboo switch is what she needs,” and then he
choked because his wad of betel leaf nearly went down the
wrong way and Mother rushed to pat his back ‘to stop the
coughing and’ Janu nearly wept:‘becaus¢ noone was listening
to her.
“But I can do all that when I come back from school.I
promise. Please, Father!’ — |
‘“‘And who’s to mind Little Ramu, I’d like to know?”
Janu looked at her mother and sighed. She looked very,
much as she did just before Little Ramu was born.
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Ettan was twelve an ‘bigger.

and going to school an “nearl uy
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 A big bright tear splashed down her nose. And another.
A kingfisher swept down, its wings an arrow of blue in the
sunlight. And the green lizard slithered down to the river’s
edge to bask in the sun.
‘Dear, dear!” said a sleepy, murmuring voice, ‘“‘what’s
the matter?”’
Janu started, because she was sure she had been quite
alone. It couldn’t have been the lizard. And the kingfisher
was up in the bamboos eating the fish it had caught. It
couldn’t be the parrots, because parrots shrieked and this
was such a sleepy voice. She looked around her. There
wasn’t a soul in sight. She was rather scared and wanted to
run away. |
‘You shouldn’t cry, you know,” the voice went on. “And
you really shouldn’t be scared, when you have been coming
here to see me every day well, almost every day.” ~ :
She started uncertainly. It was sucha
voice, like the river. It couldn’t be the river!
“Well, tell me all about it,”’ said the River, for it was the
River. ‘I’ve got to hurry to reach the sea, you know.” — :
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 “Stop!” said the River. ‘““You make me breathless. So
many why’s! I can tell you where the moon goes,” he said
conspiratorially. “She goes down towards the sea. I’ve seen
her; she always takes the same way—over the mountains
and down to the sea, like me!”’
“Even Little Ramu goes to school,” said Janu bitterly,
“Pity the school isn’t by the sea,” said the River. “Then I
could take you along, you know. But I suppose I couldn’t
really. You'd get your feet wet. And that would never do!
No, there’s only one thing you can do, I’m afraid!”
“TI can do something?” asked Janu. ‘“‘Well, it’s up to you,”
said the River. ‘Seems to me little girls can do as much as
little boys—they swim as well as little boys. You just slip
along one morning and sit there in the school and listen to
what’s going on, and maybe the teacher will let you stay.”’
“TI couldn’t,’ gasped Janu. “I couldn’t! They’d scare me
They’d chase me out.”’
The River laughed. “‘You?Scared?”’ he said, “‘when you’re
not afraid of the green lizard, or of the snake in the bamboo
clump,” (Janu started) “or the big trains rattling past that
bridge. Trains are noisy, I prefer ships,’ said the River.
Janu forgot to be scared of the snake she'd never known
was in the bamboo clump.
““What are ships?” she asked.
“Big boats,” said the River, “‘so big that they can take
hundreds of people, and they sail glong the sea with lights
that shine all night.”
 Janu held her breath. ‘Will they come here?”’ She asked.
“I’m afraid not,” said the River. ‘““Too large, you know.
Chandu’s catamaran is good enough for me, Chandu can
take you to see a ship, some day”’
“They'd never let me!” wailed Janu. “Oh, why amla
girl?
“Try going to school first,”’ said the River. ‘““Remember—
it’s up to you!”
He sounded sleepier than ever and Janu could hardly hear
him now. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. It must have been
a dream. But when she scrambled down the boulder, care-
fully skirting the bamboo clump before she got to the path
through the fields, she thought she heard the river chuckle.
A slow, sleepy chuckle.
She’d done it at last, but it hadn’t been easy. First of all
she’d had to wait till Father went to the fields and Mother
began the cooking. Then she combed her hair and put on
the red ribbon Meena’s mother had once given her. Big
Uncle had finished his early meal of cold rice and salted
mangoes and was asleep. Little Appu was sucking a conten-
ted thumb and Ettan and Ramu had already left for school.
Ramu was using the slate Ettan used when he first went to

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 school and which, when no one was looking, Janu used to
borrow just to.draw pictures. Very quietly she would draw
Chandu’s boat and the bamboo clump and the school. On
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 She said under her breath: “I suppose I’ll have to take you
now. Only if you start crying when we get there, I’1I—I’ll
throw you into the trees and the parrots will come and take
you away.” !
She reached the school panting and out of breath and
stood by the door listening while the teacher read out the
lesson. It was a story about a prince called Asoka who be-
came a great king. Little Appu had fallen asleep on her
shoulder. She crept nearer and nearer till she was in the back
row squatting with the others on the earthen floor. Little
Appu made no noise and she listened.
The teacher was asking questions. Everyone was busy
turning over the pages and holding tip a hand to answer and
when the questions were finished, the teacher said: ““NowI
have a surprise for you. Next week we shall take the train
and go down to Kozhikode and there we can see the big
bazaars and the tile factory and I shall show you the sea and
the lighthouse.
 There were delighted shouts from the class.
“Please Sir, what is a lighthouse?’ asked Kutty, the
weaver’s son.
, “Itisa big building shaped like a pencil—a huge pencil—
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with a bright light at|the top that'shines very far, so that the
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shyness and said clearly: “It is much, much bigger than a
catamaran, big enough for hundreds of people to live inside
and...” she stopped.
All eyes were on her and Little Appu who had been jerk-
ed out of sleep when she got up to answer, let out a wail.
Janu panicked.
“Where did you spring from, little girl?” asked the
teacher. ‘‘And what is your name?” You’re new in my class.
And haven’t I told you, all of you, not to bring your little
brothers and sisters here? Whose little boy is he? Who
brought him here? Hey? Answer me!”’
The teacher’s spectacles nearly fell off and the class was a
forest of shiny black heads all nodding, all whispering.
Janu’s lower lip trembled. “J-Janu, ir. He... He’s my
little brother. I didn’t mean to make him cry. I didn’t
mean... 39
‘“‘She’s Gopi’s sister—Gopi is in the next class,” said one
of the boys.
‘It’s Janu,” said another.
 “She is Uncle Gopalan’s little girl,”’ said a third.
And the teacher said: “Come here, Janu. /All right, all
right, pick him up and bring him along too. Come here to
my desk. Now, all the others can go.’
She went in fear and trembling and little Appu sobbed
with fright at the strange faces round him. The children
trooped-out into the sunshine, leaving her alone-with the
stranger. She held Little Appu close for comfort. She no
longer wanted to go to school. School without the children
inside was terrifying.

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 _ *So yowre Gopi’s little sister? Nice lad, Gopi,” said the
teacher, peering at her over his spectacles. “I suppose he
doesn’t know you're here.
“‘T suppose your mother thinks you’re lost. And your little
brother, too. Now tell me, why didn’t you come to school
before?” He held out a pencil to Little Appu who looked
shyly at him and finally grasped it in his chubby fingers.
By the time the teacher had heard from Janu all about
how she couldn’t go to school it was past midday, and when
she went home her mother was so worried that she scolded
Janu from sheer relief, and her father said he’d take a stick
to her back one of these days, roaming about when there
was work to do, and much more; in the way her father
always spoke when he came home tired.
But her secret was her own, like the bright shiny copper
coin she polished with tamarind juice and put away care-
fully under her mat each night. Of course, when Gopi came
back from school, everyone would know about her esca-
pade. But no one knew what the teacher had told her—her
bright shiny promise which she held tight to her heart like
her copper coin which glinted in the sunlight.
“Tf you really, really want to come to my school, Janu,”
the teacher had said, “we’ll talk your father into it. Don’t
you worry. We'll find a way.”
Meena had laughed at her story. Meena always laughed
a lot and when she did, the dimples came and went. Meena
said it was all over the village, the way Janu had just walked
into school, and Meena’s father thought it a pity that some
boys didn’t have so much spirit and Meena’s mother said:
‘‘Wait till she grows up, she'll shake up this place, I’ve no
doubt.”
Then Meena had said: ‘‘Let’s swim a bit, shall we? Race
you to the tank.”’ And she had pulled Janu into the water
and they raced each other swimming to the other side and
back.
“School is fun,” Meena said, shaking her damp curls.
“You'll like it. Ihope your father will let you come. My
father says that if you really study hard, you can go on and
on and on, maybe even to High School.”
 a

“And after High School? asked Janu, though she didn’t

know what High School was. But Meena didn’t know the
answer to that. Not yet. |
Janu Saw the teacher walking up the steps to their gate the
next evening when she was lighting the lamp. She lit the
lamp and pret itto the front verandah and set it down
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plencits his prayers and Ettan and Ramu joined in, little |
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 She could see her father scratching his cheek the way he
did when he was worried and the teacher was nodding and
Saying something she couldn’t make out. Then he offered
her father some betel leaf and tobacco to chew and they
chewed it in a friendly way by the bamboo fence.
‘Little Janu, I shall miss you when you go to school,”
Mother said. ““They do say nowadays that girls should
learn like boys—when I was your age I wanted to go to
school. but your grandmother said ‘No,’ but now, I am
glad the teacher came to talk to Father.
‘*He came yesterday too when you were at Meena’s house.
He thinks you can study just like Gopi, and I want Gopi to
grow up and pass his examinations and work in a big build-
ing as they say Meena’s uncle does, far away in a place
called Delhi—so far it takes three days to reach there by
train.
 “But what will you do, Janu girl, if you go to school now?
You'll learn to write your name and maybe to sew with that
big machine, like Meena’s mother, but we won’t have any
money to buy a machine, so it’s no use thinking of that.
Well, if you’ve set your heart on it, I suppose there’s no
stopping you.”
And she sang to Little Appu:

O little Koel, little black bird, Cee

Don’t you know the s¢ason’s changed?
Comes the wind and comes the rain
Won’t you puild yourjnest again?
 And Janu cried, ‘“‘Mother!” and went and threw her arms
round her mother’s neck and hugged her tight. “When I
grow up,” she said, ‘I'll be a teacher and I'll go from house
to house in our village and ask all the little girls to come to
my school. And I'll teach them all I’m going to learn.
feau. tesce!””
With a hop, skip and jump she went down the path bet-
ween the fields the next morning before school began, and
sat on her favourite rock, the red ribbon in her hair anda
yellow flower.

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“I did a” she told the river. “wiWas Scat but I did it!

name and do sums and find out-Wwh

ricefields turn into frogs and see the.
see a ship,”’ she nodded to the river/<™
And the river slipped and slid between
and held its green course among the~bam
coconut palms.

the white and yellow blossom floating down the currents She.4
was sure it was a dream the day the river spoke, but here she
was actually going to school witha red ribbon in her hair’
and that wasn’t a dream.

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 She ran between the tall green fields. And way behind her
she thought she heard the river’s sleepy chuckle: ‘“‘Come
again, little girl, and I'll tell you all about the ships that sail
the sea,”” he seemed to be saying, but of course, it could
have been just the breeze sighing through the ricefields in the
morning.

Printed at : Magic International Pvt. Ltd., Greater Noida

 z= 45.00

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ISBN 812372000-9

4°786123"720005
22232118