The Journeys of Rowena Sunita Singh

By Guy Jones

...a lost and violated girl, surrounded by the stench of coal and thick smogs. Raped repeatedly by her father she runs away to London, and after trying her hand at different jobs she gets a place as a nursing auliliary in a hospital.

At a dance she meets an Indian aristocrat, and after a brief courtship they plan to marry. When they ask permission of her father the latter sells his daughter like alorry-load of coal for 50.

...her journeys in India begin...

In a time of huge political and social upheaval, with many disturbing riots in India she, with the help of the British Government returns to South Wales with her five half-cast children, in a land where there is very little immigration.

On the boat voyage over, tired and bitter about being "used", and totally suspicious of men she meets her beloved, whom she first scolds as she thinks that he is after her eldest daughter, now a very beautiful teenager.

Their journey continues, and their expereinces are many, varied and ofetn extreme...

...it is said that fact is stranger than fiction...

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Dec 4, 2008
• ISBN: 9781467002417

Guy Jones

Guy Jones was always an observer even from a very young age. He watched and assimilated everything about him: this made him the ideal chronicler of this particular narrative. He is a man who is interested in life and people, and his varied worksmirror this, reflecting therecurring extremes of tragedy and humour in everyday living. A sequel is pending to The Journies...Demon Seed, and also a collection of plays.

Book preview

Chapter 1: Childhood, The Events of Growing Up 

It was another one of those sultry, humid days before the onset of the monsoons, when the monkeys in the hills and planes grew agitated, and seemingly more mischievous; and the insect part of the population were, en masse, ill at ease.

Rowena Sunita Singh sat alone in her apartment, which was above the dining room of the school wherein she had been the matron for some eighteen months.

Somehow with the overcastness of the sky and the imminence of the rains to come she reflected on the similarity it had with the climate of South Wales where she was born those twenty-eight years or so past.

Paradoxically the freshness of the rains approaching, and the mist in the air was strangely synonymous with the repugnant stench of coal Rowena always knew: she could never fully recall sunshine ever really banishing the coal mists, odours and fogs: heavy rain and a general grey landscape was the always the tapestry her mind exhibited whenever she recalled Wales.

Rowena Rees was born of Frederick Rees and Bessie Pickford in Evanstown, Gilfachgoch south Wales on September 2nd 1920.

Rees and Pickford had six other children, three boys and three girls, and Rowena fell somewhere in the middle chronologically.

Part of her reflections this day were about the times she attempted to run away from her hapless childhood in Wales, and was returned by authorities instigated by her father.

How little she thought then that one day she would be a mother of five children, and the wife of an Indian aristocrat, living in a country she never even knew existed when a girl; sitting where she was now awaiting the monsoon.

Yet, notwithstanding her many vicissitudes within her seventeen years or so in India Rowena felt for the first time, that she was actually of some use, and was contributing part of herself towards the community, as opposed to being the machine that produced five offspring, at the edict and desire of her husband, whom were left in her care when he travelled the world apropos his work.

Somehow the faith and trust that the children of the school had in Mrs Singh renewed that belief that she had lost in herself, and returned to her the freshness of her childlikeness, which was a characteristic part of her nature.

Bessie Pickford was a wan, frail woman, who was totally subjected to the will and decrees of her spouse. Definitely of a Mediterranean bloodline, Bessie had waist length black hair which she always had platted, and was gracefully tied up and wrapped about her head.

Although when a girl Rowena was unaware that her mother was seriously ill with cancer, she nevertheless thought that because her mother would often be rocking in that memorable rocking chair she was fundamentally fatigued with life, and was resigned to the dogmas that her husband propounded.

With Rowena being characteristically mischievous and recalcitrant, although her mother would often scold her actions, Pickford had a tender spot in her heart for her daughter.

Rowena had reached puberty early, and with thick flaxen hair, and already a fully developed body – with a bustline bathycolpous – her figure cut quite a Rubeneque outline.

Rowena never had much time for schooling, for the chores that were assigned to her at the homes of neighbours were taxing, and occupied most of her time.

Rowena heard the latch of the outer door to the apartment un-hinge and the inner door open. Bennie came in carrying a basket full of wares that she had bought from the local grocer who supplied provisions for the school.

Benny was clad in one of her usual cotton floral shirt-waister type dresses. Her curly dark brown hair was parted in the middle and swept back on each side, held with small-carved combs.

She was the catering supervisor of the girls’ department in the school, and since Rowena first met her she always knew her as Benny.

Wynberg High School lay deep within the Mussouri hills. Of all other provinces in India where Rowena had lived, she liked this one the most –chiefly because she felt a secure sense of freedom, and of course she thoroughly enjoyed working with the children.

Her direct neighbours were the monkeys, which were devilment on legs, to quote Benny, at times, yet Rowena felt akin to them, as she connected with that sense of play and mischief – her Chinese zodiac sign was the monkey.

Another similar trait Rowena shared with the monkey was that she could rarely keep still too long, often reflecting a state of fantod.

Yet so much had befallen the Welsh wench since her exodus from Wales, that the one underlying horror which occurred in her girlhood was curtained from the daylight, and became buried deeply within her mind. It lingered like some dark spectre ready to haunt her conscious, often when she was left alone too long with her thoughts and recollections – hence the need to keep busy.

On a regular basis, which transpired on a Sunday, when the Welsh miner was sufficiently soaked up with ale, Rees raped his daughter. Rowena was never aware that it happened to any of the other girls in the family, but later in her life she did reflect that Rees found her to be too recalcitrant by nature, and so probably one of his desires, aside to his inebriated lust, was to bring her to heal.

Rowena ran away from home many times, for she told no one of these events, and only ever put it into words when she was well into her fifties, to her youngest son Guy.

Rees organised the Salvation Army to find her, and they always did – Rowena would always give money to the Salvation Army whenever they would be street collecting, as she felt she owed them some sort of loyalty or gratitude.

Rowena never knew if her mother knew of the events, but always wondered if she did, but could say nothing, lest Rees beat her into silence. However Rowena had an aunt whom she had fond feelings for, Auntie Polly – Bessie’s sister – who helped Rowena to leave Evanstown, and in fact Wales, legitimately, so that the girl would not need to feel like a fugitive.

Apart from her mother, Polly was the only friend she knew: Rowena would experience a lot of hostility from others and even her own family because she was so developed and handsome – she never knew the reason at the time, but did blame herself, because she did have a strong spirit.

Although Benny had said something to Rowena it did not seem to penetrate the high wall of thought surrounding the latter, Benny tried again this time with more gusto:

Well where were you then, you didn’t hear one word I said.

I’m sorry Benny, I wasn’t here at all was I?

Well where were you, another planet maybe? Benny said playfully, yet semi-inquisitively, Rowena understood Benny’s tactics to get information.

Thinking over things, you know how it goes. Sometimes reflections- leave us confused wouldn’t you say.

Look, no more philosophy, darling, I must tell you what I’ve got from our grocer friend, and he was able to get my favourite ciggies, I’m chuffed about that…

Benny do I ever talk in my sleep? Rowena asked, with a grave tone to her voice.

Well what brought that on?

No seriously do I?

Well put it this way if you do it doesn’t come through that partition wall of ours. Look what is wrong, is it a walk down memory lane again? Benny added the last bit almost soothingly.

You know me very well, I would say that of all the people I know you know me the best, even when I hide my real feelings I sense that you know, but you leave me. You’re a good friend Benny…

Now stop this maudling. Come on the children are asking for you, let’s go down to see them.

This raised a warm smile on Rowena’s face, which had a ricochet effect on Benny and she smiled too, Rowena said:

They are sweet. It’s just that so much has been happening lately that I cannot for the life of me concentrate on anything I do, but I am so glad I have you and the children, you all help to keep me focussed.

I haven’t heard from Raghubir for so long, and my affair with Chunny has ended. Sometimes fear grips me and I wonder what will happen to my children and me. I am still a white woman in an eastern land, at least you have Indian claims".

Benny gave a retort:

Look don’t fool yourself for one minute on my account Rowena. What Indian claims? I am neither one nor the other: in the eyes of an Indian I am a chi-chi, and in the eyes of an Englishman I am a half-caste. I have no country, so I fall somewhere in between, an imaginary place, a no-man’s land

(George Cukor was to make a film depicting this caste struggle in Bhowani Junction, Ava Gardner playing the Anglo-Indian character in 1956)

Rowena looked at her friend compassionately and said":

I never really knew it was that serious Benny, doesn’t life shatter our illusions…

Benny cut in, in the same vein as before:

"And you are thinking about going to England Rowena, with your five half-caste children. Remember my words, it will not be any easy ride for you all, I don’t want to put panic in your heart darling, but this is 1951, and what immigrant population is there is England, although it is starting to take people from Jamaica, but I’ll bet they’ll have it tough as well. You could always stay…