Poona memories 1946
Continued from #10694 page 535, the adventures of a five-year-old in RAF Poona, 1946
About a week later Pop our Indian bearer calls me outside, he says someone wants to talk to me. To my delight it's Pop's friend the mongoose-wallah, and my furry friend Arthat. As he settles down across my lap Pop says he will interpret because Arthat doesn't speak English, and he puts his ear down to the mongoose.
Namaste, chota sahib, says the mongoose. Greetings, young sir. Namaste Arthat sahib, I reply. Arthat, in the voice of Pop, tells me that snake hunting is best left to the mongoose like him. Koborrah sneep bahut burraburra hai, he says, the cobra snake is very bad. If he bites you it will be very sore, but he can't hurt me because I am protected by the good Lord Shiva. Would the Lord Shiva protect me as well? I ask the mongoose. Pop listens intently, and replies that Arthat is sure Lord Shiva will look after me too, but he can't watch everybody at once and he might not see me under the bungalow next time.
I assure the mongoose that I will never go looking for snakes again, and the kindly owner lets me play with him until it's time for tiffin. Mummy even lets me take him into the house, and she thanks Pop and the mongoose-wallah for bringing him to visit.
Shortly afterwards, we leave for Daddy's next posting in Karachi. I have never seen, still less handled, a mongoose again but neither I nor family will ever forgot Pop's thoughtful and kindly warning to a little boy.
Next instalment: Geriaviator (aged 5) attempts to introduce multiculturalism to the Church of England, RAF Poona branch. Alas, his efforts do not go down well with the padre ...