Diamonds of the Holy Trail

By Bartholomeus De Nys

Diamonds of the Holy Trail is a recount of the author's travel experiences in India, developed into a fiction of light hearted intrigue. The main characters are Paul Mecclesfield, an Australian accountant, and Kunwar Singh.

Paul goes to India for a holiday but mainly to satisfy his curiosity (mid-life crises?) by being a participant in a 'Himalayan Odyssey' to look at the religion of Hinduism.

Kunwar, a 30 year old vaisyas (merchant caste) has taken upon himself to provide funding for the reconstruction/upgrading of part of the holy trail which had been bypassed when the Government constructed an alternative route, leaving many stallholders who solely depended for their existence on the pilgrim trade, out on a limb. He finds no problem with ripping off the rich to give to the poor, and is known as a loveable rogue.

Kunwar is instrumental in the theft of a valuable diamond immediately after its sale by auction in Sydney. The diamond named 'Elygra' accidentally finishes up in Paul's possession at Bombay airport. Right along the holy trail to the origins of the Holy River Gange there are incidences of intrigue, tension, kidnaps, police and army involvement (diamond to fund terrorists?) with reconciliation all around in the end.

There is some romance, descriptions of fascinating Indian people and the beautiful foothills of the Himalayas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: May 29, 2005
• ISBN: 9781412232661

Bartholomeus De Nys

Born in Holland. Migrated to Australia in 1955. Occupations: Carpenter, Architectural Draftsman and Realtor (own business for 21 years). Now retired. Married with 3 married sons and 7 grandchildren.

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© Copyright 2004 Bertholomeus De Nys.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

Note for Librarians: a cataloguing record for this book that includes Dewey Decimal Classification and US Library of Congress numbers is available from the Library and Archives of Canada. The complete cataloguing record can be obtained from their online database at: www.collectionscanada.ca/amicus/index-e.html

ISBN: 978-1-4120-5021-0 (softcover)

ISBN: 978-1-4122-3266-1 (ebook)

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Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 46

Diamond

of the

Holy Trail

by

Bartholomeus de Nys

CHAPTER 1

Paul Mecclesfield had just boarded Qantas flight 408 in Melbourne, destination Bombay. It was full of people flying on to London. He had left the provincial town of Hamilton in Western Victoria earlier that day. His wife Chantelle would look after his accountancy business very efficiently for the next four weeks. He hoped that their three teenage children would during his absence co-operate with their mother as well. All being highly opinionated, that might be a big ask! Nevertheless, Paul was grateful to his dear wife for not just allowing him but in fact encouraging him to go alone on this trip to India to have a good look at religions there. He scoffed at those who thought that he was going through mid-life crisis!

Paul sat next to a British couple who were returning, from what apparently had been a wonderful time in Australia, and they were already looking forward to another trip within a couple of years to spend time with their daughter and grandchildren.

Ah, food was being served. There was a time when airline food was a little less than average, but recently there had been a tremendous improvement in quality and cuisine. It smelled good, and Paul was looking forward to it. The flight attendants who had been inching their food trolley along the aisle were now about level with Paul, who had his little lap table folded down, ready to accept whatever was presented. The attendant nearest Paul flashed a lovely smile at him as she grabbed the next food parcel which was to be distributed for his personal enjoyment. As the manna was on its way down from heaven, it didn’t immediately land on his lap table as expected. He looked up, and noticed that his food drop was held aloft in midair by the lovely hand that was supposed to feed him, while its owner appeared to be distracted by something going on in the opposite (starboard) aisle. An Indian man wearing a turban was standing gesturing wildly and looking into an open luggage compartment above him. Attendants were trying to calm the man down, with little effect, as he opened adjoining compartments. Together they searched through luggage, but obviously to no avail. Whatever they were looking for, didn’t appear to be there. The Indian was beside himself, and started to harass passengers in the area.

‘Do you think that we ought to go over there to help?’ asked the attendant with the lovely hand and food, now descending on his lap table.

‘No, I think that John will fix this’ said the other attendant, as she spotted an apparently senior attendantworking his way to the area of commotion. Whatever was agreed to or arranged, it did calm the man down, although he continued to have a disturbingly anxious look on his face.

Paul enjoyed his meal, and as the British couple had settled down for a nap, he commenced reading his paper. The first stop after Melbourne was to be Singapore, which was now approx. thirty minutes away, when it was announced that all passengers were required to sit down in their seats with seat belts fastened, and under no circumstances was anyone to either put anything in, or remove anything from the overhead lockers. The British couple had awoken, and had missed out on the gist of the message.

‘I am going to the toilet’ she announced to her husband, while she stood up to get passed him and Paul.

‘They just announced that no-one is to get out of their seats’ Paul said ‘But we’re not anywhere near Singapore yet, are we? and besides, when you have to go, then you have to go, and I must go’ she said with determination, as she proceeded down the aisle towards the toilets. She had only moved a couple of steps however, when she was apprehended by two, far from burley female attendants who ushered her back to her seat. Softly protesting and slightly embarrassed she sat down in her seat. Paul noticed a couple of people on the Boeing 747 who had either elected to not hear the order or had not heard or understood and had opened a luggage compartment, rummaging through it, and slamming it shut before attendants could prevent them. It didn’t take long for everyone to settle down, and for the plane to go through its landing procedures. The plane landed smoothly, and while taxiing to the Singapore terminal, the attendants emphasised again to remain seated even after the plane had stopped and until instructions received to the contrary. All available flight personnel were strategically placed throughout the plane to ensure observance of this ruling.

The plane arrived at the terminal. The covered gangway was placed in position, ready for passenger movement. As passengers were still held in their seats, there was no such movement! Instead Singapore Police used it to board the plane, swarming down the aisles. Quite a fearsome sight, as reflected in the faces of the passengers and with cries of

What the hell is going on?

Is this a hijack?

‘Oh, God, please tell us what is going on?’

The policeman in charge was handed the intercom. In unfaltering English and heavily Asian accented,he informed the passengers that something of great importance was lost on this flight from Melbourne. This item needed to be found, then the flight would continue on as scheduled in an hour’s time. Their cooperation was required in finding whatever was lost by leaving the overhead lockers closed, and by being personally searched as they left the plane. The women were to move into the right-hand aisle, and the men into the left aisle and all were to proceed forward. Police were placed everywhere to ensure nothing was left behind, other than what was in the lockers.

The tall Indian, standing out like a sore finger, was escorted out in a highly excited state into the Singapore terminal.

I don’t want to be separated from you Colin said the British lady to her husband, and in any event I don’t have anything they would possibly want! Then in shock realisation - ‘what if Colin, someone has planted something on you or me, that we are unaware of! Colin assured her this would be most unlikely, and he would keep an eye on her across the body of the plane. As everyone inched forward to be searched, Paul noticed the moment they had left their seats, police moved in to search the overhead lockers, opening bags and satchels, going through pockets of coats and jackets, all very thoroughly and professionally. Paul had now reached the front of the plane, where all the men were searched in an attendant station by a gloved policeman. Paul immediately debated with himself as to why the policeman was wearing white gloves, either to protect himself from infectious diseases, or to protect passengers from his germs? He decided that the wearing of gloves in this instance was as useless as plastic gloves used in a sandwich bar for food and simultaneous money-handling. It was now Paul’s turn to be searched by the man, and he was asked to hand his newspaper to another policeman for a thorough examination. He had to empty his pockets followed by his person being thoroughly searched. Paul was then given the all clear, and his paper returned.

As he was leaving the plane for the transit room, he hoped that on his return, he would find intact, his camera, satchel and coat which he had left in the locker. All passengers were then herded into the transit room, like sheep into a pen. Normally passengers were encouraged to shop around in a ‘set aside’ part of the airport shopping complex. In this instance however, passengers in transit were prevented from leaving the transit room, causing irritability and protest from some. Obviously, there was to be no contact with the outside world. There was nothing to look at in the transit room, and nothing to do, other than visitingthe toilet, which had now become the most popular past-time, as evidenced by the enormous queue in front of the ladies’ single toilet.

CHAPTER 2

After an hour and a half of being cooped up, passengers were permitted to board the plane again. Paul checked to see if his three items were still in the overhead locker. Satisfied, he settled down in his seat. The British couple were already seated, much more at ease now that the plane was taking off and expressing the hope that from now on there would be no more ‘foony business’!

Approximately fifteen minutes before landing at Bombay, passengers who were to leave the plane were being consulted, to ensure their readiness. At 1.00 a.m. local time, the plane landed. It appeared that three other passengers were to disembark apart from Paul. He quickly glanced at them as they all stood up to retrieve their luggage from the overhead lockers. One was a young darkish man, with that ‘I’m nearly home’ type of look, and a broad grin while slinging his gear out of the locker and over his shoulder. The second person was a middle-aged Caucasian man of average build with receding and greying hair. The third one, only just in Paul’s view, was a girl of approximately seventeen years of age, wearing a blue jacket with a large Rotary emblem, unmistakingly an exchange student and obviously very excited at the prospect of finally arriving at her host country. She was receiving lots of helpful attention from the flight crew. Paul, who was a Rotarian, decided right there and then that he would make himself known to her after the plane had landed.

Again the plane went through its routine landing procedure, then taxied along the shiny wet tarmac to the terminal. As soon as the plane had stopped, and the covered gangway extended to the exit door, Paul stood up, gathered his gear, farewelled the British couple, then proceeded to walk towards the front of the plane. He caught up with the exchange student and introduced himself. She acknowledged him with a pleasant smile and told him her name was Jan and that she was sponsored by the Kununurra Rotary Club in Western Australia. Paul vaguely knew Kununurra was part of the Ord River Irrigation Scheme where a diamond mine was situated nearby.

The four passengers were shepherded into a small transit room. This time their hand luggage (retrieved from the plane’s lockers) was to be put through ascanner which is a normal procedure common before entering a plane - this seemed odd. On the other hand, a lot of things on this flight seemed odd! Jan was first to pass her hand luggage to the attendant, while chatting about how she came to be selected as a Rotary exchange student. She was quite excited, even though Paul thought that at this hour of the night there was very little to be excited about! Paul handed his three pieces of luggage to the attendant, followed by the Indian young man with the broad grin. The middle-aged man was the last person to have his gear placed on the scanner. Still absorbed in their conversation, Jan went to the end of the scanner to pick up her bits and pieces. She was about to hand Paul’s camera to him when the young Indian who had picked up his hand luggage before Paul, jerked the camera out of Jan’s hand saying That’s mine, thanks, and raced off into a large terminal/reception hall to disappear in the distance.

Jan and Paul were taken aback for a moment, until a camera bag, similar to the one taken by the young Indian man, appeared from under the scanner. The bag was a dark green ‘Lowepra’ canvas camera bag, very familiar to Paul. Relieved, he opened the bag, only to be startled again by the discovery of a strange camera-not anywhere near as good as his.

Paul knew the only possibility to catch up with the man would be at the luggage carousal. They quickly walked to the end of the airily empty hall. There they were to present their passports and change moneys for local currency. Fortunately, there were no queues as at other international airports, and were quickly served. Off they raced to the luggage carousal-to find no-one there! On the carousal was a single lonely suitcase moving around and around, with its lid knife-shredded to pieces, showing its empty interior. It must have been left there by