Jamila Gavin - The Wheel of Surya

JAMILA GAVIN

When I am asked if the Surya trilogy is autobiographical, the answer is yes and no. Yes, that I couldn’t have written it had I not been born in India into the period leading up to the Second World War, independence and partition; yes, that as a child I lived both in a palace the Punjab and in a drab flat in a war-damaged London street; yes, that music, sea voyages, schools, friends were all part of my rich Anglo-Indian experience. But no – in any accurate sense to do with the plot or events described in the books. Everything I experienced simply became material with which I could overlay a complete fantasy. As a child can turn a table into a house or two chairs into a train, I turned my life into a fiction in which any resemblance to characters living or dead is purely coincidental – as they say in the movies.

With gratitude to my parents for their memories;

much love to Arthur, and to Geoff and Miriam for their endless support.

First published in Great Britain 1992 by Methuen Children’s Books

This edition published 2018 by Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Text copyright © 1992 Jamila Gavin

The moral rights of the author have been asserted

First e-book edition 2018

ISBN 978 1 4052 9174 3

Ebook ISBN 978 1 4052 9278 8

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

Egmont takes its responsibility to the planet and its inhabitants very seriously. All the papers we use are from well-managed forests run by responsible suppliers.

‘The Body is the chariot,

Reason is the charioteer,

Mind is the reins.

The Horses are the five senses,

Their paths the objects of sense.

So the one whose chariot is driven by Reason

And holds the reins of his Mind,

Reaches the end of the journey.’

The Upanishads

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication and Copyright With gratitude to my parents for their memories; much love to Arthur, and to Geoff and Miriam for their endless support. First published in Great Britain 1992 by Methuen Children’s Books This edition published 2018 by Egmont UK Limited The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN Text copyright © 1992 Jamila Gavin The moral rights of the author have been asserted First e-book edition 2018 ISBN 978 1 4052 9174 3 Ebook ISBN 978 1 4052 9278 8 www.egmont.co.uk A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet. Egmont takes its responsibility to the planet and its inhabitants very seriously. All the papers we use are from well-managed forests run by responsible suppliers.

Epigraph ‘The Body is the chariot, Reason is the charioteer, Mind is the reins. The Horses are the five senses, Their paths the objects of sense. So the one whose chariot is driven by Reason And holds the reins of his Mind, Reaches the end of the journey.’ The Upanishads

PART ONE: Swift and Shining PART ONE Swift and Shining ‘Swift and shining is the great God Surya, Maker of light, Illuminator of the universe; Traversing the heavens in his twelve-wheeled chariot, With flying sparks and seven horses. Creating day Ensuring birth With the rays of his all-seeing sun.’ The Rig-Veda

ONE: The White Road

TWO: Dora

THREE: The Birth

FOUR: The Swing

FIVE: Govind

SIX: The Snake

SEVEN: The Lake

EIGHT: Goodbye

PART TWO: Fire

NINE: Fire

TEN: Flight

ELEVEN: Into the Midnight Hour

TWELVE: The Edge of the World

THIRTEEN: The Ship

FOURTEEN: Changing

FIFTEEN: A House on the Heath

SIXTEEN: An Address in Whitechapel

SEVENTEEN: The Meeting

EIGHTEEN: A Sound from the Past

NINETEEN: Unwillingly to School

TWENTY: A Man in a Riley

PART THREE: Just as in the Wheel

TWENTY-ONE: Finding Out

TWENTY-TWO: Missing

TWENTY-THREE: Have You Ever Been Lonely?

TWENTY-FOUR: On the Run

TWENTY-FIVE: Deep and Dreamless Streets

Q & A with Jamila Gavin

Map

The Wheel of Surya: Fascinating Fact File

Back series promotional page

PART ONE

Swift and Shining

‘Swift and shining is the great God Surya,

Maker of light,

Illuminator of the universe;

Traversing the heavens in his twelve-wheeled chariot,

With flying sparks and seven horses.

Creating day

Ensuring birth

With the rays of his all-seeing sun.’

The Rig-Veda

ONE

The White Road

‘Jhoti! That little brat of yours is stealing Ajit’s tin! If you don’t come right now and sort it out, her bottom will feel the back of my hand!’

A woman’s voice screeched harshly across the yard. It penetrated the inner courtyard where Jhoti crouched outside the kitchen door, grinding spices on a block of ribbed stone. She had been at her job an hour or more so her arms ached and her fingers were all red with rolling and mixing the spices into a paste.

She jerked back on her haunches and sprang to her feet; too quickly, for as the blood drained from her face and a sharp pain jabbed through her stomach, she swayed with dizziness and had to lean up against the wall. She should remember that she was pregnant and not make these swift movements; but she was so used to reacting instantly to the sound of her sister-in-law Kalwant’s voice, that it had become a reflex action. So she only paused long enough for the dizziness to pass and the pain to subside, before she hurried across the courtyard and out into the compound beyond.

An ancient, knuckly, pepul tree spread a twisting shade beneath its broad, dark green leaves. Here, the infants, those that is who were too young even to herd goats or follow the buffalo, tumbled and played under the baleful eyes of the male village elders, who sat smoking on their string beds, or sipping tea and playing cards at an old wooden table.

Usually there was no need to interfere. Even infants can sort out their own problems if left to it. But today, as Kalwant was passing by on her way to fetch water from the well, she had noticed her son, Ajit, struggling to gain possession of a tin from Jhoti’s daughter, Marvinder.