The Blue Umbrella
The Blue Umbrella
RUSKIN BOND
Illustrated by
TREVOR STUBLEY
Published in 1992 by
Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd.
7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj
New Delhi 110002
Sales centres:
Allahabad Bengaluru Chennai
Hyderabad Jaipur Kathmandu
Kolkata Mumbai
Copyright Ruskin Bond 1974
Illustrations Copyright Trevor Stubley 1972
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual personsliving or deadevents or localities is entirely coincidental.
This digital edition published in 2012
e-ISBN: 978-81-291-2154-7
Ruskin Bond asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Digital edition prepared by Ninestars Information Technologies Ltd.
All rights reserved.
This e-book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, without the publishers prior consent, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, mechanical, print reproduction, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. Any unauthorized distribution of this e-book may be considered a direct infringement of copyright and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
One
EELU! Neelu! cried Binya.
She scrambled barefoot over the rocks, ran over the short summer grass, up and over the brow of the hill, all the time calling Neelu, Neelu!
NeeluBluewas the name of the blue-grey cow. The other cow, which was white, was called Gori, meaning Fair One. They were fond of wandering off on their own, down to the stream or into the pine forest, and sometimes they came back by themselves and sometimes they stayed awayalmost deliberately, it seemed to Binya.
If the cows didnt come home at the right time, Binya would be sent to fetch them. sometimes her brother Bijju went with her, but these days he was busy preparing for his exams and didnt have time to help with the cows.
Binya liked being on her own, and sometimes she allowed the cows to lead her into some distant valley, and then they would all be late coming home. The cows preferred having Binya with them, because she let them wander. Bijju pulled them by their tails if they went too far.
Binya belonged to the mountains, to this part of the Himalayas known as Garhwal. Dark forests and lonely hilltops held no terrors for her. It was only when she was in the market-town, jostled by the crowds in the bazaar, that she felt rather nervous and lost. The town, five miles from the village, was also a pleasure resort for tourists from all over India.
Binya was probably ten. She may have been nine or even eleven, she couldnt be sure because no one in the village kept birthdays; but her mother told her shed been born during a winter when the snow had come up to the windows, and that was just over ten years ago, wasnt it? Two years later her father had died; but his passing had made no difference to their way of life. They had three tiny terraced fields on the side of the mountain, and they grew potatoes, onions, ginger, beans, mustard and maize: not enough to sell in the town, but enough to live on.
Like most mountain girls, Binya was quite sturdy, fair of skin, with pink cheeks and dark eyes and her black hair tied in a pigtail. She wore pretty glass bangles on her wrists, and a necklace of glass beads. From the necklace hung a leopards claw. It was a lucky charm, and Binya always wore it. Bijju had one, too, only his was attached to a string.
Binyas full name was Binyadevi, and Bijjus real name was vijay, but everyone called them Binya and Bijju. Binya was two years younger than her brother.
She had stopped calling for Neelu; she had heard the cow-bells tinkling, and knew the cows hadnt gone far. Singing to herself, she walked over fallen pine-needles into the forest glade on the spur of the hill. She heard voices, laughter, the clatter of plates and cups; and stepping through the trees, she came upon a party of picnickers.
They were holiday-makers from the plains. The women were dressed in bright saris, the men wore light summer shirts, and the children had pretty new clothes. Binya, standing in the shadows between the trees, went unnoticed; and for some time she watched the picnickers, admiring their clothes, listening to their unfamiliar accents, and gazing rather hungrily at the sight of all their food. And then her gaze came to rest on a bright blue umbrella, a frilly thing for women, which lay open on the grass beside its owner.
Now Binya had seen umbrellas before, and her mother had a big black umbrella which nobody used any more because the field-rats had eaten holes in it, but this was the first time Binya had seen such a small, dainty, colourful umbrella; and she fell in love with it. The umbrella was like a flower, a great blue flower that had sprung up on the dry brown hillside.
She moved forward a few paces so that she could see the umbrella better. As she came out of the shadows into the sunlight, the picnickers saw her.
Hello, look whos here! exclaimed the older of the two women. A little village girl!
Isnt she pretty? remarked the other. But how torn and dirty her clothes are! it did not seem to bother them that Binya could hear and understand everything they said about her.
Theyre very poor in the hills, said one of the men.
Then lets give her something to eat. And the older woman beckoned to Binya to come closer.
Hesitantly, nervously, Binya approached the group. Normally she would have turned and fled; but the attraction was the pretty blue umbrella. It had cast a spell over her, drawing her forward almost against her will.
Whats that on her neck? asked the younger woman.
A necklace of sorts.
Its a pendantsee, theres a claw hanging from it!
Its a tigers claw, said the man beside her. (He had never seen a tigers claw.) A lucky charm. These people wear them to keep away evil spirits. He looked to Binya for confirmation, but Binya said nothing.
Oh, I want one too! said the woman, who was obviously his wife.
You cant get them in shops.
Buy hers, then. Give her two or three rupees, shes sure to need the money.
The man, looking slightly embarrassed but anxious to please his young wife, produced a two-rupee note and offered it to Binya, indicating that he wanted the pendant in exchange. Binya put her hand to the necklace, half afraid that the excited woman would snatch it away from her. Solemnly she shook her head. The man then showed her a five-rupee note, but again Binya shook her head.
How silly she is! exclaimed the young woman.
It may not be hers to sell, said the man. But ill try again. How much do you wantwhat can we give you? And he waved his hand towards the picnic things scattered about on the grass.
Without any hesitation Binya pointed to the umbrella.
My umbrella! exclaimed the young woman. She wants my umbrella. What cheek!
Well, you want her pendant, dont you?
Thats different.
Is it?
The man and his wife were beginning to quarrel with each other.
