CHAPTER EIGHT
Monkeys
The family returned from Kanyakumari just as the summer monsoon set in. One morning Syamala sat at the glass-top table in the garden with her work spread out all around her. Bala was playing on the terrace with four of her specially trained beetles! She lined them up behind a chalk line and then, when she whispered “Go”, they would run as fast as they could to the next line. “Okay, stop!” she would whisper, and they would come to a screeching halt. Then she always picked up tiny little winner and told him how smart he was and how he could run so fast and that made him a winner. This little bit of attention from Bala made them want to win in the worst way! Absolutely no one knew about this game, of course because if anyone found out, she knew her Divine Mother would scold her!
Syamala found that there was much work piled on her desk in the children’s home. She had many prospective adopting parents to interview, and case histories and home studies to write.
“Would you like to come to the children’s home with me this morning, Bala?” she asked.
“Yes, Mummy, I love to play with the other children, especially Govinda.”
Govinda’s real mother, a beggar, had brought him to the doorstep of the home a month before. Now he was two months old, but very small and malnourished. Bala loved to play with the sad little baby, and they had ‘bonded’. Every time Bala came to the home with Syamala. Govinda wiggled and squirmed with delight, and when Bala picked him up for a cuddle he waved his arms in
glee. Other little girls liked to play with dollies, but Bala loved real babies, because they loved her back.
“What are you playing with down there on the ground, Miss Bala?” asked her mother.
“Bala’s playing with beetles. Mummy.”
“Oh, dear.”
“It’s okay, Mummy, Bala loves all the little things; big things too,’’ the small girl assured her mother. “Now go and play, Mr. Beetle, Bala will be back soon.”
By 10.30 a.m. the skies were clear and Syamala was busy at her desk in the orphange. Bala was in the room outside the office, with Simba Kitty, giving Govida a bottle of orange juice. Some of the other little tots were taking their morning naps. The older children were playing games in the compound.
About five minutes later, large raindrops began drumming on the roof, chasing all the tots and a gang of monkeys inside. “Monkeys, monkeys,” screamed the children, as they came running inside. Bala didn’t pay much attention, because little children and little tots were taking their morning naps. The older children were playing games in the compound.
About five minutes later, large raindrops began drumming on the roof, chasing all the tots and a gang of monkeys inside. “Monkeys, monkey,” screamed the children, as they came running inside. Bala didn’t pay much attention, because little children and little monkey were the same to her. Both had beautiful and pure shining eyes where the God-self showed through.
The outside door wasn’t latched, and papa monkey had no difficulty pushing it in. He swaggered into the room where Bala was feeding Govinda and sat down. He was enormous and had a
back, which was every bit as broad as Bala’s. There was a very disturbed look on his face as her rocked a tiny baby monkey of his own back and forth. Bala knew that he hadn’t simply come inside to avoid the rain. She sensed danger from the dark red feelings he had all around him, but she wasn’t afraid because her own sweet pink feelings, in her heart, were so strong that they melted everything else away.
