Problems for Pandi

Pandi untangled her legs and got up from her bedroom floor, where she’d been sitting cross-legged for what seemed like for ever and wondered whether she’d got it wrong, again. As she rubbed her stiff knees, she gazed out of the window and gasped with horror.
No, wait! I ought to start before that!
It all began ages ago, I can't remember when exactly but that's not important. What is important is that you should know something about Pandi. Pandi didn't know there was anything important about her but we'll get to that.
Anyhow, Pandi seemed ordinary enough, average at lessons, brownish hair, a few freckles, small and thin. You probably know the kind of girl.
Thin was a problem to Pandi, who was a bit of a loner and really didn't need to give the people who teased her at school any more ammunition. I say teased but it felt more like bullying; it hurt. They laughed at her because she was quiet and small and thin.
Pandi's dad told her 'good things come in small parcels' and 'you never see a fat thoroughbred'. Words which were, she supposed, trying to make it sound as though being small and thin was a good thing. Pandi didn't understand them completely but then she didn't understand a lot of her dad's sayings. He said he came from a different part of the country, as if that explained everything.
Another problem, to Pandi at any rate, was that being thin affected her passion in life, which was a shame because it meant she didn't get as much fun out of it as she might have. Animals were her passion, especially horses.
She had been going once a week for a hack at a nearby farm and although she loved riding, she always felt very self-conscious in her jodhpurs. This was silly because jodhpurs are supposed to be fitted but Pandi thought they made her legs look thinner than ever. So she’d stopped going for rides and spent most of her time in the stables, happy just to be with the horses.
The owners were pleased to have her around and showed her how to groom the horses till they gleamed, to brush and comb their manes and tails and clean out their feet.
She didn't even mind doing that and cleaning out horses feet can be a revoltingly smelly job, I can tell you. Did you know the soft bit under their hoof is called a frog? Hard to believe I know, but it's true. Pandi said it smelled like a prehistoric pond.
Anyway, she became very useful. She'd tack up the horses ready for going out, she mixed their food and mucked them out. The best bit about mucking out was when she put the fresh straw in the stalls. The horses always seemed grateful for their new scented bed and would gently nuzzle her as if to say 'Thanks Pandi, we like you’. Then she'd stroke their noses, share her apple with them and tell them her troubles.
It was strange because even though she wasn't strong, the horses seemed to understand her and didn't push her around. They let her guide them; by reaching up and putting her hand on their rump, they'd lift their heavy feet and move gracefully out of the way.
Of course, they couldn't actually do anything for her when she told them her worries but somehow they gave her a soothing feeling and she always left the stables feeling better.
Now you know who Pandi is and you know her dad's got odd sayings. She's got two brothers - who, by the way don't look like Pandi at all, more like 'Uncle Dave on your mum's side' according to her dad. Then we come to Pandi's mum, which is pretty much where it all started.
Usually Pandi walked home from school but sometimes her mum picked her up, which was a relief as you can imagine; no teasing. One memorable day Pandi's mum and her friend Kate - 'Aunty Kate to you, Pandi' - were waiting for her in the car. As Pandi climbed in they were having an enthusiastic discussion. Actually, it was less of a discussion and more of a monologue.
“Honestly, Kate”, said Pandi’s mum “it's fantastic! You must try it! I feel completely different, as if I've got a new body; not too mention a new mind. By visualising in my minds eye, I imagine I could do anything in the world!”
Dramatic words! Words that could have been useful to her but Pandi in the back of the car didn't know what her mum was talking about. Just as Pandi asked the most important question an ambulance screamed by and drowned out the answer; all she heard was 'Yog.....' Yogurt????
Pandi's mum used to work in advertising and often came out with strange words, like ‘stategy’ and 'concept'. And in fact, 'visualise' had been used many times in their house; usually when they couldn't find something. She would advise them to 'visualise' where they’d last had whatever it was that was missing. Really, she did! But try as she might Pandi couldn't 'visualise' what yogurt had to do with a new body and mind.
Then again, it wouldn't have surprised Pandi in the least if her mum had come across what she imagined to be a life changing yogurt. Once she'd come home with bags of what looked like bird seed and announced they were all going to eat more healthily! Even though Pandi’s brothers had complained that they would grow beaks and had run round the breakfast table flapping imaginary wings, they had to admit in the end that the new cereal was tasty. Mind you, as her dad’s nickname for her was Sparrow because she was small, the bird seed cereal had the potential to add to Pandi's worries.
So, yogurt was the answer to her problems then. It was worth a try. What did she have to lose?
Whenever they went shopping Pandi asked for yogurt. Truly! She had every yogurt you can think of. Thick ones, creamy ones, those with grains in (the bits got stuck in her teeth), the ones with fruit in a corner, fruit ones, ones pretending to be fruit ones, low fat ones (possibly a waste of time), ones with friendly bacteria (they sounded the most hopeful as life changers) and natural ones (she liked these best because she could put in her own favourite things like sultanas) until she was sick of yogurts but nothing had happened to her mind or her body.
This went on for ages, and would probably still be going on now if it wasn't for the day that Aunty Kate came to collect Pandi's mum for yoga.
Yoga!!!!
Perhaps life changing yogurt didn't exist after all! Pandi groaned, perhaps she'd got it wrong. Perhaps she needn't have eaten all that yogurt. Perhaps the thing Pandi's mum was so enthusiastic about was yoga. The penny dropped, as her Dad would have said if he'd been there and later, feeling rather foolish Pandi plucked up the courage to ask.
“Mum, what's yoga?”
“Oh, Pandi, not now, love. Just nip next door for me with this cake while I clear up and then we can chat.”
It seemed reasonable enough, so Pandi delivered the cake, but in the few minutes it took, the phone had rung and Pandi's mum was chatting, still surrounded by cooking mess. Sending a scowl in her mum's direction, Pandi went upstairs to find her brothers.
Trying to sound as if she knew better than them, Pandi threw in the casual question.
“Either of you two know what yoga is?”
Silence, then,
“Yeah, I do! It's a thing on a string!”
“A thing on a string?” said Pandi
“Yeah, you know, you hold it and it goes up and down on a string”
“That’s a yoyo, you idiot, not yoga!” said Pandi impatiently and rather crossly left them to whatever stupid game they were playing.
Still wondering how she could find out about yoga, Pandi suddenly thought of the Internet. That's got to be it; she'd go to the Library after school. Feeling like she was finally getting somewhere, Pandi went back downstairs.
“Pandi, do you want to talk now?” called her mum.
“It doesn't matter, thanks. I've sorted it.” said Pandi
“OK, if you're sure. I'm going to have shower now.” said mum.
But as Pandi went into the kitchen, she sighed in dismay. For there, still on the notice board, was the consent form from the Library which needed her parents’ signatures before she could use the Internet. She was getting nowhere. She'd already wasted time on the yogurt eating plan. Didn't anybody realise how important this was?
Just then Pandi's dad came home,
“Wotcha, Sparrow!”
Pandi seized the moment,
“Dad, what's yoga?”
Pandi's dad looked quizzically at her, before he launched into a very uncertain answer.
“Well, it's a sort of Eastern culture thing.”
‘Not very helpful,’ thought Pandi.
“Yes, it's sort of Indian. They have Gurus and things” said dad.
‘Not at all helpful,’ thought Pandi.
“Yes, they have a thing called a Guru. He's a sort of teacher”
‘Sounds a bit too much like school,’ thought Pandi.
“They do mind calming exercises and....oh, I know, they meditate. They sit cross-legged and visualise good thoughts and …….”
‘There's that word again!’ thought Pandi.
Seeing Pandi’s puzzled face, he stopped.
“Pandi, why do you want to know?” asked her dad.
At this point Pandi decided she needed some help and explained that she'd heard mum telling Aunty Kate about the way yogurt could change you. How she'd now discovered that it wasn't yogurt, it was yoga and how she wanted to change herself because of the teasing.
“Oh, Pandi, is that what the yogurt eating was about?” said dad giving her a hug and using one of his sayings, told her 'All bullies are cowards.’
“Yogurt and yoga won't change your life” said dad, “although they do have their advantages. What you have to remember is that everyone has special qualities. We're not all the same; some people are good at sports, for instance, some at music. Everyone is special in their own way, even the bullies, though it may not seem like it at times. Now off you go and don't worry any more. Where's mum?”
Pandi told him and went off to her bedroom, the thought of a Guru still lurking in her mind. Dad had said everyone was special in some way but she didn't want to wait all her life to find out how. So she decided to be a Guru. She sat cross-legged on the floor, closed her eyes (she didn't know why but it seemed the proper thing to do) and visualised herself being bigger and braver.
Every day she tried, nothing happened. Weeks went past but she
didn't look or feel any different, until that day.
Pandi untangled her legs and got up from her bedroom floor, where she’d been sitting cross-legged for what seemed like for ever and wondered whether she'd got it wrong, again. As she rubbed her stiff knees, she gazed out of the window and gasped with horror. There, in the direction of the farm, a grey cloud of smoke was rising into the sky.
For a second Pandi was frozen with fear. Then, she leapt into action. She shouted to her mum and dad that there was a fire at the farm. She ran down the stairs and grabbing the nearest bike, pedalled as fast as she could in the direction of danger.
When Pandi arrived, she could hear and see the fire but also noticed that there was no-one around. Terrified or not, she'd have to tackle it herself.
The fire had started behind the stables. The horses were unharmed but were getting frightened and restless; scraping at their doors with their hooves. Smoke was seeping in through the planks of their stalls and Pandi could tell it wouldn't be long before the whole building caught light; she could feel the heat already. She must get them out!
Pandi knew that she must make sure her way out was clear, otherwise all would be lost. She took a deep breath and went in. Opening a stall door, she held the head collar of the first horse, talking quietly to the frightened creature and led him outside. Once tethered in a safe place, she left him and ran back. Each time she went in, she checked the main door was still clear of the fire and talked to the horses to keep them calm, until all six were out safely.
It seemed to her that time had stood still. Where was everyone? Where were the Fire Brigade, surely her mum and dad had called them? Pandi was tired and scared but she had to keep going. She'd have to deal with the fire. She remembered seeing a fire extinguisher near the stable door. If only she could lift it, she’d be able to put out the fire.
Every second counted, but she couldn’t lift the extinguisher. What was she going to do?
Pandi turned a feed bucket upside down under the extinguisher and climbed up to reach it. At first it didn’t move, then gathering all her strength and hoping she could keep her balance, she lifted and pulled.
At last! Although it was heavier than she thought possible, Pandi struggled with the extinguisher to the fire. It was no good, she doubted that she could do any more; the extinguisher was too heavy for her. But, still trying, she stood the extinguisher upright on the ground and pointing it at the fire, pulled the trigger to release the water.
One extinguisher wasn't going to do the trick though, what was going to happen then?
Suddenly, Pandi heard the most welcome noise ever. Fire engines sounding their sirens bumped up the lane and swung into the yard, her mum and dad’s car screeched to a halt behind them. Almost sobbing with relief, Pandi hurled herself at her parents while the firemen put out the blaze.
Well, after that Pandi became a celebrity at school. How could such a small girl be so brave? The bullies were so seriously impressed they left her alone; she obviously had hidden talents.
Even the local paper was interested.
“How did you know what to do, Pandi?” asked the reporter, as the family posed for a picture. Pandi shrugged self-consciously; she didn’t know, it was something she just had to do. She’d asked herself the same question, how did she know? Was it the yogurt? Was it the yoga? Or was she indeed, special in her own way?
At that moment, dad caught her eye. He gave her an enormous wink and said,
“Food for thought, eh, Pandi? Food for thought!”