Fozia and the Quest of Prince Zal Page 7

  ‘Did they fix your toes?’ Amir asked.

  ‘No – they couldn’t save the ones I hurt.’

  ‘That was when Abu and Ummie realised Zal had a disease,’ Fozia explained. ‘He had his foot too close to the fire but couldn’t feel any pain.’

  ‘And your toes burned?’ Amir pressed on.

  ‘Ji,’ Zal said. ‘But while I was being treated at the hospital, the physio had toes and special shoes made. Afterwards, Fozia, whenever I could, I visited camps to look for you and our parents.’

  ‘Are our grandparents in a camp?’ Fozia asked.

  ‘Nai, they live in a room in the hospital compound, but they can’t stay there forever.’

  ‘There is a house nearly finished near Jehan and Amir’s house,’ Mr Waleed said. ‘Your grandparents could live with you there.’

  Zal put his hand over his heart again. ‘I am sure they will want to come, but—’

  ‘Until then you can live with us,’ Jehan said.

  Fozia’s eyes pricked again. She glanced at Aunty Meena and Uncle Akram. They both tilted their heads and smiled.

  ‘Shukriya,’ Zal said, ‘but I have returned to work at the brick kiln to pay off the family debt.’ Fozia tried to speak, but Zal carried on. ‘It is only right. The money was borrowed because of me. So our parents could buy my medicine.’

  Fozia put a hand on his arm. ‘You don’t have to do that now. I found a way to raise some money. We can give it to the brick-kiln owner today. Then we will be free.’

  ‘Truly?’ Zal stared at Fozia.

  Her eyes shone. ‘Ji.’

  Zal laughed and swung her around. ‘Khuda ka shukar hai.’

  ‘Wah,’ Jehan said. ‘The story certainly has come true.’

  17

  Fozia and Prince Zal

  It was Friday, a week since Fozia and Zal had given the money to the brick-kiln owner. He hadn’t been polite at first, but when Fozia said they had all lost loved ones in the flood, he agreed to cancel the debt. Now Fozia had no secrets and no worries.

  Zal and Jehan were helping Uncle Akram in his charpai workshop. Every afternoon Fozia helped Aunty Meena make quilts, but not today. Today her friends were coming for chai.

  Fozia was cooking a carrot sweet that her mother used to make on special occasions. Lali sat watching her in the courtyard as she grated the carrots and heated them with butter, cardamom and condensed milk.

  ‘Do you remember this smell, Lali?’ Fozia asked. Lali barked.

  ‘Look, Fozia.’ Zal walked in with a low table. ‘Uncle Akram showed me how to make this today.’

  ‘Accha, we can put the chai and carrot halwa on it inside.’

  Zal sniffed. ‘Hmm, Ummie used to make that. It was Abu’s favourite.’

  ‘Ji.’ They were quiet while Fozia stirred the pot. Zal took the table in and sat on Fozia’s charpai. She glanced in at him as he traced the stitching of their family on her crocheted carpet. They shared a sad-happy smile.

  Just then they heard a call from the door, and, all of a sudden, everyone was there: Shakila, looking flushed; Kelsey; Uncle Akram and Aunty Meena; and, of course, Jehan and Amir. Shakila was bouncing on her toes as she announced, ‘And here are Miss Parveen and Chacha Izaak!’

  Everyone clapped as Izaak and Miss Parveen walked in wearing more new clothes. They had been settling in to their new room at Shakila’s house. Fozia’s eyes shone as she watched everyone make themselves at home on the charpais. It felt magical having friends and new family come to visit.

  Izaak had some news for Fozia and Zal. ‘I’ve been in touch with your grandparents. They are ready to live with you here. I’ll fetch them this week as they have charpais to bring, including yours, Zal. They can’t wait to see you both.’ There were more claps.

  ‘Shukriya, Chacha ji,’ Fozia said. Then she put the chai in cups on the new table and spooned the carrot sweet onto plates for everyone to try.

  ‘This is yummy,’ Kelsey said.

  ‘It’s our favourite sweet that our ummie made,’ Fozia said. She looked up and saw Aunty Meena smiling at her. It was the way her ummie used to smile at her, with pride and a shine in her eyes. Fozia felt lighter inside, as if her worries had turned into feathers and floated away.

  ‘Fozia is not only a khoob cook, she’s good at telling stories, too,’ Amir said to Miss Parveen. ‘She told us the story of Prince Zal and how he was looking for his sister.’

  Everybody stared at Fozia.

  ‘You told a story about me?’ Zal asked.

  Fozia said simply, ‘I missed you. I wanted the story to come true. I wanted to find you.’

  ‘It did come true,’ Amir said firmly. ‘Stories are special. But now we need to hear the ending.’

  Jehan told everyone what had happened so far. Amir helped. Even Lali gave a few yips from the courtyard, especially when they missed bits about the leopard.

  ‘Those are all the stories Ummie or Abu told us at night,’ Zal said.

  ‘Yes,’ Fozia said. ‘Can you help me tell the ending this time, Zal?’

  ‘Accha,’ said Zal with a smile. ‘This is what happens next …’

  ‘Shukriya for everything you have done for us,’ Prince Zal said to the pari princess. ‘Now please grant us permission to leave.’ He laid his hand across his heart to show his sincere thanks.

  ‘Do you need to leave?’ the princess asked softly. Some of Najya’s new friends held her in their arms so she couldn’t walk to Zal’s side.

  ‘We don’t want you to go.’ All their voices spoke at once in harmony. The music of it filled Zal’s mind until he could think of nothing else.

  Prince Zal shook his head. Now he could understand the danger. The pariyan couldn’t let people go. It felt as if he and Najya had stayed for a year, but the pari princess assured him that time didn’t pass in the same way it did in his kingdom.

  The princess raised her hand and the voices fell quiet. Najya was hugged by each pari child in turn – there must have been a hundred of them.

  ‘Ao, come, Najya.’ Prince Zal spread the carpet on the ground. It seemed to him she walked too slowly. Had he left it too late to leave? They both sat on the carpet, but Najya kept calling and waving to her friends, and Zal was afraid she’d run back to them before the carpet could be airborne.

  Quietly, he asked the carpet to fly to its home. The carpet was slow to respond, as if it, too, wanted to stay. The pari princess smiled at him. Zal knew she wanted them to remain there forever. Zal had to force himself to say the words again, ‘Please rise.’

  Finally, the carpet lifted slowly into the air. The pariyan waved and danced by the lake until Zal and Najya couldn’t see them anymore. Zal looked down at the jungle as they flew. In a clearing he thought he saw a huge bird. But it glided up into a tree and was hidden from view. Could it be Toto?

  ‘Look!’ Najya cried. ‘What a huge leopard.’

  Prince Zal saw the leopard loping through the trees until she disappeared into the undergrowth. He shuddered to think how differently their story could have ended …

  Zal paused and Fozia continued:

  Away from the pari kingdom, the carpet flew so swiftly they arrived at the wise woman’s cottage without exchanging another sentence.

  ‘Wah, how fast the carpet flies,’ Najya said.

  The woman was pleased to see them. ‘You have fulfilled your quest, I see.’ She smiled at Najya.

  ‘Ji,’ Prince Zal said, ‘and if you can send word to Toto, could you please thank him for his help? We mustn’t tarry, as I need to take Najya home.’

  ‘Return with confidence in your heart, Zal. You will make an excellent badshah and if you ever need help, we are always here.’

  Fozia stopped speaking. She glanced at Zal and saw tears in his eyes.

  Jehan leaned over and hugged them both. ‘Thank you, Fozia and
Zal. What a first-class story.’

  Everyone clapped and said, ‘Shahbash, well done.’

  Zal took her hand. ‘I’m glad you never gave up hope, Fozia.’

  Was the story finished? Maybe it never would be, but now everyone knew Prince Zal would be king.

  Glossary of Urdu Words

  (Some words are spelled phonetically for ease of reading.)

  abu – dad

  accha – good, very well, all right, okay, really?

  ao – come on (pronounced with a long ‘a’ sound as in ‘aao’)

  badrooh – evil spirit, demon

  badshah – king

  baitho – sit

  baji – elder sister

  behn – sister

  behn ji – dear sister

  beti – daughter

  chacha – uncle, father’s younger brother

  chai – milky sweet tea

  chapatti – flat bread (commonly called roti in Pakistan)

  charpai – bed with a wooden frame and woven with rope

  chup – quiet

  daal – cooked lentils

  dada – grandfather (father’s father)

  dadi – grandmother (father’s mother)

  dupatta – a long scarf

  gudiya – doll (phonetically spelled; pronounced as ‘goodiya’)

  halwa – sweet (pronounced as ‘halva’)

  hie, hoi – exclamations

  janab – mister or sir

  ji – yes (short for ji hahn). Also used after names as a sign of respect

  khoob – good, beautiful

  khubsurat – beautiful

  Khuda – God

  Khuda hafiz – goodbye or God keep you safe

  Khuda ka shukar hai – thanks be to God

  khushi – happy, rejoice

  malka – queen

  mehndi – henna

  nai – no (slang), short for ji nahin

  pani – water

  pari – fairy (the plural is pariyan)

  Paristan – place of the fairies, i.e. pari kingdom

  piari – dear, darling

  qameez – long shirt or top

  razai – quilt

  roti – bread

  salaam – hello, peace to you

  shahbash – well done, bravo

  shalwar – baggy pants

  shalwar qameez – outfit of clothes with baggy pants and long loose shirt

  shukriya – thank you

  so jao – go to sleep

  teik hai – it’s fine, okay (often written in Pakistan as ‘theek’, but starts with a ‘t’ sound

  ummie – mum (also aami)

  wah – bravo, wow, wonderful

  zarur – certainly

  A note: For ease of pronunciation, the name Izhak has been spelled as Izaak.

  A Note from the Author

  The storyline of Fozia and the Quest of Prince Zal was again inspired by the Pakistani flood of 2010 when heavy monsoon rain fell over most of the country, causing flash floods and landslides. The floodwater affected twenty-one million people, including over eight million children. Months later, large areas were still underwater, and some people couldn’t return home for six months or even a year. Pakistan called the 2010 flood their worst in recorded history and linked it to climate change.

  There are 20,000 brick kilns in Pakistan. Most are in urban areas. Four million people work in the brick kilns. The bricks are used to build schools, government buildings, homes and hospitals. Many people become bonded to the owners if they need to borrow money for a special need like a wedding or illness in the family. But many people cannot pay off the debt, as the interest rates are high and wages don’t cover the loan as well as rent, food and other expenses. A family can make 800–1000 bricks working a fourteen-hour day, but receives less than six Australian dollars a day.

  Leprosy is still found in most parts of the world. Australia has up to 100 cases reported a year. Most cases of leprosy are reported in India, Brazil and Indonesia, with around 10,000 cases each per year. Pakistan has up to 1000 cases a year. Leprosy is caused by a bacterial infection and affects mainly the skin, eyes, nose and peripheral nerves. It is curable and can take up to a year to be cured. It is not easily passed on to others as many people once believed. Early treatment can prevent disabilities.

  I wrote Fozia’s story to show what it would be like more than six months after the flood, and I incorporated some aspects of life there, like illness and bonded labour, to show that even though life can be difficult, kind and caring people can support each other to survive.

  Acknowledgements

  As usual, interesting books are never written alone. Thanks go to my publisher Kristina Schulz who thought Fozia had more to share, and the students I met during Book Week who gave ideas, especially Ms Pepper Mickan’s Grade 4 class at Riverton Primary, where Todd said this book had to be Fozia’s story. Thanks also to my wonderfully supportive agent, Jacinta di Mase, who said it was a delightful idea; Kristy Bushnell who always brings magic to a structural edit; the excellent creative team at UQP including Clair Hume, Melissa Keil and Cathy Vallance; and Briony Stewart for the stunning cover and internal illustrations.

  Thank you especially to Dr Ambrose Emmanuel in Pakistan for your helpful comments when reading the manuscript for cultural sensitivity, and for loving it. And thanks to Sarosh Samuel who is always ready to answer my language queries.

  Thank you to my supportive writer buddies, Janeen and Phil, and my Kapunda writer friends, Nancy, Wendy and George. It’s fun bouncing ideas with you, telling our stories and asking which word is best. I also acknowledge the continual peer support from the Ekidnas (children’s book writers and illustrators of South Australia).

  I especially would like to acknowledge the Ngadjuri, the traditional owners of the land where I live and where this book was written.

  The riddle the leopard asks Prince Zal is inspired by a puzzle called ‘The Tiger’ that I read in my grandson’s maths puzzle book, Think of a Number by Johnny Ball, 2017, Dorling Kindersley, London.

  Another story about a talking parrot can be found in Pakistani Folktales by Ashraf Siddiqui and Marilyn Lerch, 1998, Hippocrene Books, New York.

  Kelsey and the Quest

  of the Porcelain Doll

  Rosanne Hawke

  Kelsey is in Pakistan and wants to go home. Mum and Dad are busy helping flood victims and she misses her friends. But most of all, Kelsey misses Nanna Rose.

  Luckily, Kelsey can talk to Nanna on Skype. To help Kelsey feel better, they create a story about a porcelain doll called Amy Jo who wants to find someone to love her. As Kelsey and Nanna imagine Amy Jo’s quest, Kelsey starts to realise Pakistan isn’t that bad after all.

  But how will the porcelain doll’s story end? Will Amy Jo find the person she’s destined for or be on a quest forever?

  ‘A delight for young readers.’ Sunday Telegraph

  ‘A charming story, beautifully written, that provides a glimpse into the richness of another culture.’ Magpies

  ISBN 978 0 7022 5331 7

  Jehan and the Quest

  of the lost dog

  Rosanne Hawke

  For nine-year-old Jehan, life in Pakistan is just as it should be. He attends school, plays cricket and fetches water for his family. But when the monsoon unleashes a catastrophic flood, Jehan is swept away and becomes trapped in a tree.

  Then Jehan rescues a lost dog and he is no longer alone. But why does she keep swimming away and where is she going? Eventually, Jehan must follow her into the floodwater. But will the dog’s quest lead them to safety?

  ‘This is a beautifully told story about resilience, community spirit, dealing with grief, helping each other, and above all love.’ Lamont Books

  ‘A charming story of survi
val.’ Aussie Reviews

  ISBN 978 0 7022 5960 9

  First published 2021 by University of Queensland Press

  PO Box 6042, St Lucia, Queensland 4067 Australia

  uqp.com.au

  reception@uqp.com.au

  Copyright © Rosanne Hawke 2021

  The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

  This book is copyright. Except for private study, research, criticism or reviews, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.

  Cover design by Jo Hunt

  Cover and chapter illustrations by Briony Stewart

  Typeset in 15.5/21pt Mrs Eaves OT by Post Pre-press Group, Brisbane

  University of Queensland Press is assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council, its arts funding and advisory body.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia.

  ISBN 978 0 7022 6307 1 (pbk)

  ISBN 978 0 7022 6464 1 (epdf)

  ISBN 978 0 7022 6465 8 (epub)

  ISBN 978 0 7022 6466 5 (kindle)