August 17, 1998

How a Kipling-inspired adventurer found a paradise among pagans.

By John Mason

FOR A PAGAN SONG
EDITED BY JONNY BEALBY
WILLIAM HEINEMANN
PAGE: 235 PRICE: Pounds: 9.30

The antecedents of For a Pagan Song are as romantic as the book itself. Author Jonny Bealby -- whose first book, Running with the Moon, on his travels in Africa has drawn critical acclaim -- confesses that he had not read a book till the age of 21. Fifteen years later, he lives on his writing.

The cause of this remarkable transformation, Bealby says, was his girlfriend, Melanie, who presented him Rudyard Kipling's The Man who would be King, challenging him to adventures in the mind. Not that Bealby was a stranger to adventure. He was something of a wild drifter, successively, a movie stuntman, dispatch rider, leader of a rock group and, continually, a compulsive traveller.

The eponymous short story in this Kipling collection became Bealby's favourite. The Man who would be King is the tale of two adventurous rogues, Danny Davot and Peachey Carnehan, who make their way into Afghanistan and become kings of the ancient tribes of what is pejoratively known as Kafiristan. "The story," Bealby says, "struck a powerful chord within me. The setting was a bygone age where adventure was a trade and courage, honour and daring were its qualifications."

Subsequently, Melanie's death sent Bealby into a free fall of despair. Some years later, a chance viewing of the film version of the story sparked his interest in following the route his fictitious heroes took a hundred years before. But it was John Hayward, a tough and taciturn British aid worker in Peshawar, who gave substance to the adventure when he agreed to lead the expedition: "a real life Peachey" to accompany Bealby's Danny. Hayward understands Afghan tribal politics and confirms the existence of Kafiristan, convincing Bealby to end his travels there. They embark on their adventure undaunted by the news that the Taliban is closing in on Kabul.

Bealby displays the skills of a writer of fiction in relating his travelogue. Occasionally, however, as in the Indian chapters, his desire to entertain the western audience overwhelms the Indian reader: "A passenger falls out of the train and dies. The train stops and passengers debate, 'What to do with the body'. One old dark man ... (with) the appearance of a photographic negative ... Reciting something or other from the Vedas ... claimed the gods would be angry ... the ticket collector pointed out ... he (the dead man) had a valid ticket to Jodhpur and should be entitled to use it."

Having traversed Nuristan and parted company with Hayward, Bealby arrives in the land of the Kalash, the ancient tribe Kipling's vagabond heroes had ruled. Bealby says, "Saved from conversion to Islam by the fact that their land fell on the eastern side of the Durand Line, in the British sphere of influence ... The Kalash are the last of the pagans living in the Hindu Kush."

Bealby discovers his Shangri La among these peaceable people, who are polytheistic, drink wine, have liberal laws for their women and sing emotional hymns of their provenance. His disturbed spirit is healed by their acceptance and the narration of his sojourn is pure lyric. When the time comes to leave, unlike his doppelganger, Danny Davot -- who for his sins was flung from a bridge -- Bealby for his honesty drives away in a jeep.

This is a journey worth taking, through the pages of Bealby's book.

© Living Media India Ltd