From the side, the manager’s face and neck looked like a turtle’s. Govinda and his father watched the manager from the door, brown coat, black legs, scuttling all over the office, extending his neck. Govinda laughed aloud. The manager said Govinda had been reared poorly.

Sunil Seth turned to Govinda and scolded him. ‘You must learn to stand up for yourself,’ he said.

As with so many adults, Govinda’s father seemed to be forever on the verge of fury. When he was furious he looked at his son as if he were the most unsatisfactory, most upsetting, disagreeable, time-wasting creature in the world. As they left the zoo Govinda wondered how he could ever win his father’s respect.

The Mighty Flood

The Mighty Flood

Govinda’s teacher set the class twenty-one words to write as a spelling exercise, but no one listened to him. At his desk, Govinda wrote his own list. Nitesh grabbed it and began to read it out.

Things I want:

To be India’s first astronaut

To be Shiva

To grow my hair long like Mumbles

To discover I am adopted

To collect all the cards of Australia’s cricketing stars

My parents to notice me

‘You want to be a god, Butt-scratcher?’ said Nitesh, crinkling his nose.

Govinda grabbed his list as Nitesh covered his ears with his hands and said, ‘Just playing, Govinda.’

‘You’re an idiot, Nitesh,’ Govinda said.

Nitesh wore a green fleece cap, the kind with flaps that came down over the ears. He peered through his thick glasses at the new watch on his wrist. Govinda remembered Nitesh’s father had won the watch playing cards on the red gambling mat.

Lightning ripped into the classroom and then a rolling crack of thunder fell from above, as if the whole of heaven was collapsing. Outside the sky was black. The clouds were swollen and obese, and seemed to descend upon the tallest trees. A small breeze rose as more heavy clouds gathered over the lane and bumped into each other. Spraying rain fell.

‘The monsoon has arrived,’ Nitesh said as he and the other classmates inhaled the rain-scented air.

‘Rain, rain I love you,’ sang one of the boys.

Govinda ignored Nitesh’s comment because he felt angry with him. He didn’t want anyone to read his list. He didn’t like people trying to control him. He wished he had a secret power, but then he remembered the curse. Could he be washed away by a mighty flood? Was water coming to take him away? Was the rain a blessing or a curse? The swollen cupboards creaked. The windows burst open. There was a racket; the sounds of the birds, horns, the daily lessons entered through the open windows and added to the pandemonium.