by Mona Sehgal
UNDER THE
AFRICAN SKY
Mona Sehgal
AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 1 (800) 839-8640
© 2016 Mona Sehgal. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 07/14/2016
ISBN: 978-1-5246-0910-8 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-5246-0909-2 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016908743
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
One African Massage
Two Broken Tusk
Three The Baobab Tree
Four The Big Feast
Five Laws of the Jungle
Six The Little Oasis
Seven Name Game
Eight The Magic Pond
Nine A New Day
To Sreeni, for your unwavering support. – M.S.
For Leela, Nikhil, Gautam, Rishi, and Vikram. – M.S.
One
AFRICAN MASSAGE
The small white airplane descended from the blue African sky. Its wheels scraped the narrow landing strip and slowly rolled to a stop. The door opened and, following a few excited tourists, an exhausted Krishna climbed down the stairs of the plane, his parents trailing right behind him. Shading his eyes, he glanced at the thatched roof of the small airport with a funny sounding name, Nelspruit.
“Nels…Proo…It,” said Krishna aloud, teaching himself how to say the name. This had to be the smallest airport Krishna had ever seen. All the passengers arrived into one room.
Just as they stepped in, the U-shaped luggage belt in the middle of the room rumbled and started to move. Krishna looked for a luggage cart.
“Good work, Krishna,” his father said as he checked for a signal for his wireless phone.
“Kris!” Krishna corrected, bringing the cart to a halt.
“Hurry up, Kris. It’s a long drive to the park,” said his mother. “Let’s hope our driver is waiting for us.”
Sure enough, as soon as they collected their bags and stepped out of the airport, they found a tall African man holding a sign with their name. The tall man flashed a big smile, shook hands with Krishna’s father and mother, and tried to give a fist bump to Krishna.
“I’m Dixon,” the man said enthusiastically as he led them to a big white SUV. “Welcome to South Africa.”
“How long will it take to get to the park?” Krishna asked, as he fingered the goodies in a wicker basket in the back seat.
“You’ll be at your lodge in about four hours,” said Dixon.
“Four hours!” said Krishna. “It’s been almost one whole day since we left New York.”
“I know Kris,” said his father. “But when you see what’s inside the park, this long trip will be worth it.”
It will be truly amazing, thought Krishna. Maybe even magical. At least that’s what his little brother had said. He would have had some company if Siddhartha, who went by Sid, had come with them. But at six years of age, Sid was too young to stay at the lodge.
Back in his home, Krishna had felt a little taller and wiser than a typical nine-year-old when he found out that he could go on the safari, but not Sid. Now, during what seemed like a never-ending journey, Krishna felt his brother’s absence. Should he have stayed back with his grandparents, too?
Krishna stared outside the window of the moving SUV. As they drove past small towns, he noticed women carrying baskets stacked with oranges on their heads.
“Mom, look!” he pointed to one woman with an especially large basket on her head. “How do they do that?”
“Oh, they learn to do that from an early age,” said Dixon.
“How early?” Krishna wanted to know.
“I don’t know,” said Dixon, “…maybe when they are as old as you.”
Krishna tried to remember the heaviest thing he had balanced on his head. He could only think of a soccer ball.
“You know,” said Dixon, changing the subject, “all this used to be bush. Animals used to roam around here.” He pointed at the small brick houses scattered all around. Krishna wondered what it would be like to have wild animals roaming around freely.
Krishna must have fallen asleep, because when he woke up, the SUV was standing in a little parking lot.
“Kris,” whispered his father and then signaled with his eyes at something. Krishna stared in astonishment at the pair of strange looking animals. Until then, the only large animals he had seen closeup, besides at the zoo, were horses pulling carriages in Central Park in New York City and cows roaming the streets in India.
“These are wildebeest,” said Dixon, laughing. “We also call them gnu for the sound they make. They are quite harmless and won’t hurt you. We’ll see many more of these and other animals inside the park.”
At last, the car passed a pair of large imposing gates. The words KRUGER NATIONAL PARK were written on a curved board at the entrance. A full day after they started their journey, they had arrived at their destination.
Dixon turned onto an unpaved road past the gates. The wheels of the big SUV kicked up clouds of dust. The ride was no longer smooth. Dixon slowed down every few meters to drive over bumps. Each time they hit one, Dixon would grunt loudly and exclaim, “African massage!”
Krishna counted up to fifty African “massages” and then gave up. The shaking made his stomach queasy. The car finally approached a cluster of huts, which looked small from a distance. But as they got closer, Krishna saw that the huts were quite large.
Once the car came to a stop under a large acacia tree, a couple of men with big smiles approached them.
“Hoy Hoy,” they greeted, grabbing the bags from the trunk and leading Krishna’s family to one of the huts. One of the men came up to Krishna.
“Hoy Hoy! I am Wonder,” he said cheerfully.
“What does that greeting mean?” asked Krishna as he started walking back to the hut with Wonder.
“Hoy hoy?” said Wonder. “Oh, it means ‘welcome’ in our Tsonga language. That’s one of South Africa’s many languages.”
Krishna immediately liked this playful but wise man.
At the lodge, all of the newly arrived guests were served a drink. It was sweet and bubbly and unlike anything Krishna had ever tasted. While his parents were talking to the lodge manager, Krishna slipped out of the reception area and stepped onto a large wooden deck that extended up to a dry river bed. He spotted a small round swimming pool at one end of the deck and started walking toward it.
“The water is a little cold,” came a voice from behind. Krishna turned around to see Wonder, whose shaved head made his face appear perfectly round. In the middle of that circle was a wide grin. Before Krishna could say a word, his mother called.
“Kris, let’s go see our cottage.”
“Yee-es, remember, you should not walk outside alone,” said the manager looking over his half-moon gl
asses as Krishna ran back inside the lodge, “and if you need help, please let us know.”
“Okaay, thank you. Now, please follow us,” said another man who looked a little nervous and uncertain, whose name was Xianous.
Wonder and Xianous lifted the bags and stepped onto the dirt path. The manager pointed his arm in their direction, and with a smile let out another “yee-es,” suggesting that the visitors follow along.
Two
BROKEN TUSK
“Cool!” said Krishna, his eyes growing bigger as he walked into their cottage. Each room had a round, mud colored wall capped by a tall conical thatched roof. It looked like a house wearing a quaint hat!
Krishna bounced on the large round bed in the middle of the room. His own bedroom! But what he saw next made him a little uncomfortable. On the wall behind the bed were three little openings, each holding an African mask.
“That one is like a scary clown,” Krishna whispered to his father as he pointed at the first mask. It was painted black and had large red lips stretched in a wide smile.
“I don’t know if this one is happy to see us,” said Krishna’s father looking at the second mask. It was painted green and had large eyes with raised eyebrows.
“This one seems to be following us,” said Krishna as he looked at the third mask. It had a white face and slit-like eyes.
Just then, Wonder drew back the curtains of the bedroom and as the sunlight poured in through large glass doors, the masks seemed less scary. Krishna peered outside the doors and saw a small wooden patio that had a table and two chairs.
“There are wild animals out there,” he said pointing at the bushes not far from the patio. “Be careful and do not go too far from this area.” In spite of the warning, Krishna thought he saw Wonder wink.
After Wonder turned and left with a cheery wave, Xianous showed them the rest of the cottage in painful detail.
“This is the study table on which you can write postcards,” began Xianous. “And here is a bedside table with a lamp. You can turn it on and off from the convenience of your bed—let me show you.” As Xianous droned on, Krishna’s mother interrupted.
“Kris, look at this!” she said, standing by a mesh door.
Krishna pushed the door and stepped outside.
“Isn’t this fun?” his mother asked, pointing to the outdoor shower.
Krishna stepped into the shower. Around him was a semi-circular mud wall with no roof. Bushes stretched out from one side of the wall.
“This shower has warm water, so you can use it even if it’s cold in the morning or evening,” explained Xianous.
Krishna looked up and had to squint in the bright sunlight streaking from above. He was excited at the thought of taking a shower outdoors.
“Kris, you can take a shower while I unpack,” said his mother as the mesh door swung shut behind her.
“And I’ll go find a cell phone signal,” came the sound of his father’s voice.
Krishna undressed, stepped into the shower, and turned on the faucet. Under the blue sky, the water streaked from the shower like rain. The pouring water dissolved all other sounds.
Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, Krishna saw something move in the bushes. He gave it a quick look, but saw nothing unusual. A minute later a beautiful blue bird landed on the bush. It looked like an ornament hanging from a tree.
The water bounced off Krishna’s head and gurgled down a drain in the floor. Krishna closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. Suddenly the gurgling stopped. Krishna swung around to see why. He nearly screamed as he saw a long gray trunk reaching from behind the wall. The trunk was sucking the water like a straw.
Before Krishna could say anything, an elephant’s face came around the wall.
“Hi!” it said.
Krishna looked at the elephant, speechless.
“Hi,” said the elephant again. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard the water and could not resist getting a drink.”
“You can talk?” said Krishna, more confused than scared.
“I can talk, but not everyone can understand me,” said the elephant. “I am glad you can.”
“Do you live here?” asked Krishna.
“Yes, I am with a herd not far from here. We often stop here for water,” said the elephant. “My name is Broken Tusk.”
“What?” said Krishna, still surprised that he was talking to a wild animal.
“Broken Tusk,” repeated the elephant and pointed with his trunk to his left tusk. “See, it’s broken.”
“Oh,” said Krishna. “My name is Kris.”
“Kris?” asked Broken Tusk.
“Well, actually it’s Krishna,” replied Krishna. “It’s the name of a Hindu god.”
“A Hindu god! Does he look like you?” the elephant asked.
“I don’t think so. I’ve heard that his skin is dark as a raincloud, he wears a crown with a peacock feather in it. And he plays the flute,” Krishna blurted out in one breath. “And he is a cow-herd.”
“Ah! He likes animals,” observed the elephant. “Do you like animals?”
“I think so,” said Krishna, not sure how to answer the question since he didn’t even have a pet.
“Dark as a rain cloud…” said Broken Tusk softly. “A rain cloud,” he repeated. Then, looking at Krishna, Broken Tusk said, “A rain cloud is a beautiful thing.”
“In what way?” asked Krishna.
“We are in the middle of the dry season now,” explained Broken Tusk. “We are waiting for the dark clouds to bring us rain. Rain that will make the yellow grass green again, and fill the nearly empty rivers and ponds, and wash away the dust from our bodies. That’s the magic of a rain cloud!”
Krishna nodded thoughtfully as Broken Tusk spoke. The water from shower felt like rain on his skin and it seemed to wash away the exhaustion of the long trip. I wonder how long the animals have been waiting, thought Krishna.
“So Krishna—” began Broken Tusk. But Krishna interrupted him saying, “Kris— call me Kris.”
“You don’t like being called Krishna?” asked the elephant.
“It’s too long and—complicated,” said Krishna. “I always need to explain it.”
“But it’s such a nice story,” said Broken Tusk. “Every name has a story. Names without stories would be a little boring, no?”
Krishna said nothing and started looking at his wet toes.
Sensing Krishna’s discomfort, Broken Tusk changed the subject. “How long are you here?”
“Three days,” said Krishna.
“That’s short,” said Broken Tusk and then asked, “Would you like to go for a ride?”
“A ride?” said Krishna doubtfully. “You mean on your back?”
“Yes. I promise you it will be a lot of fun,” said the elephant, quite earnestly.
“Where would we go?” asked Krishna.
“Into the forest. It may be easier to slip out at night. Besides, the magic pond is only magical at night,” said the elephant.
“A magic pond?” asked Krishna. Just then he heard his mother call.
“Kris, are you done with your shower?”
“Oh, that’s my mother,” Krishna said hurriedly. “I’d better go.”
“Okay, I will also leave. Keep your window open, if you want to go for a ride. I will come at midnight,” said the elephant and disappeared.
“Were you talking to someone?” asked Krishna’s mother as she held open the door.
“I was just…talking to…myself,” said Krishna, looking at the bushes from the corner of his eye.
“Let’s get ready, Krishna, or else we will miss our safari.”
“Okay,” said Krishna as he turned off the shower and walked back inside, wondering what was magical about the magic pond.
Three
THE BAOBAB TREE
/>
Later that afternoon, Krishna and his parents got ready for the safari.
“Kris, are you ready to go?” Krishna’s father asked entering the cottage just as Krishna got dressed.
“Yes!” said Krishna, starting to feel a little excited.
“The jeep is waiting. We need to leave now,” said his father, wrapping an arm around Krishna as they headed outdoors.
Krishna’s mother grabbed windbreakers and scarves. “In case it gets cold after sundown,” she explained.
“How long is the safari?” asked Krishna hesitantly. Would I be back in time for my adventure with Broken Tusk?
“As long as you want it to be,” said a jovial voice. It was Oscar, their safari guide. “We can go for two or three or four hours. It depends on what we find and how far you want to go.”
Krishna looked up at the jeep, while Oscar opened the middle door. The jeep was dark green in color, had an olive colored canvas top. A woman was already settled comfortably in the front seat.
Once seated, Krishna kicked his feet as he did some quick mental math and figured that even if they got back in four hours, it would only be 9:00 at night. Enough time before his adventure.
“You have plenty of time,” said Wonder, who appeared suddenly and winked at Krishna.
“For what?” Krishna asked aloud. But Wonder only grinned.
Krishna noticed Wonder’s teeth. He had learned in school earlier that year that all humans had a pair of pointy teeth called incisors. But Wonder was different. He had only one incisor, which seemed unusual to Krishna.
Oscar started the jeep and took a U turn around the large acacia tree. As the jeep stirred up dust, Krishna looked back to see Wonder’s heavy frame disappear into the cottage.
The jeep bounced along a dirt track. Not far from their lodge, Oscar pointed to a herd of elephants. Krishna wondered if Broken Tusk was part of that group. But the jeep did not linger.