Bala Devi, Girl-Child Avatar - Book Two - Holiday in Kodaikanal

Chapter Three - Red Roses for Uma

Chapter Three

Red Roses for Uma

Bala and her friends arrived in Kodai about 6.30pm and drove around to the other side of the Walton Hotel, where the horses were tendered. For a moment, the girls gazed down the trees to see the sunset painted on the lake below. Small boats could be seen here and there. A fellow with a paddle-wheel boat was peddling his burqua-clad wife and their two little ones in a little red boat, all the way across the other side. The town had a nice easy feeling about it and everyone seemed relaxed, friendly and ready to enjoy themselves.

“Just look what I’ve got in the back of the lorry, Papa,” Gopal called out to the stocky older man in a knitted cap.

“What a nice little foal,” chuckled Mr. Anil Kumar. “Where did you find her, son?”

“We found her about fifty kilometers from here, Sir,” spoke up Bala. “A man in a jeep had run into the mother, killing her on the spot. We simply had to rescue her, don’t you think?”

“Papa, I’d like to have you meet Miss Bala, her Granny, Adiamma, and her son, Adithya, and Bala’s friends, Mary, Premala, and Uma,” said Gopal. “They are all coming from Bangalore.”

“Did all of you come in one Amby?” chuckled Mr. Anil Kumar.

“Yes, Sir.”

“And you’ve come for a holiday, is it?”

“Yes, Sir, before school starts again,” said Uma, who hadn’t been paying attention to anything but the beautiful horses. “You have some fine horses here.”

“Do you ride?”

“Oh, yes, Sir, my grandfather was a groom when I was a little girl. I dearly love horses.”

“Then come anytime while you’re in Kodai, and that goes for all of you. Free of charge, of course. It’s nice to have good riders who really care about horses. What are you going to do with your filly, Bala?” he asked as he examined the foal in the black of the lorry.

“Don’t know, Sir, I haven’t thought that far ahead. You can have her if you like.”

“Well, we’ll be happy to keep her here in the meantime, and Gopal will bottle-feed her.”

“Do you own all of these horses, Sir?”

“Three of us own all the horses in Kodai, and there are forty-five. Half are tethered here by the hotel, and the other half on the other side of the lake. All are stallions because they will fight over the ladies and kill each other. We buy them from the race tracks at Ooty, Chennai, and Bangalore, so all are thoroughbreds; good blood lines and well-trained when we get them. Would you like to come up to our house for something to eat?”

“Oh, no,” said Granny, “thank you, but we really must go and check in at the Walton, you know. Thank you also for keeping Bala’s little filly. I actually did not know what on earth we were going to do with her at the Walton.”

“You are certainly welcome.”

“I’ll come first in the morning,” said Bala. “Are you sure you don’t want me to feed her? She’s comfortable with me.”

“No, no, Gopal is wonderful with horses.”

The girls, Granny and Adiamma, stomped through the elegant lobby of the Walton Hotel, with all their luggage causing a good many stares from the guests and staff alike. They had brought along extra blankets and pillows, tennis rackets, hats, books, board games and a couple of teddy bears. It was a very grand hotel, built from indigenous material like granite and natural wood, and with walls of glass making the most of the gorgeous scenery in every direction.