My reading journey began when I got promoted to the first standard. Thank God, mobile phones and computers were not common then, so the major source of entertainment for kids like me was either television or Books. I said kids like me because I wasn't interested in sports. I was that lazy couch potato, who likes his packet of chips with a book in his hands or TV right in front of him. So, I had no interest in doing sums or drawing triangles. I just wanted to read my English or Hindi Literature textbooks. Another thing that boosted my imagination was those cheap printed comic books, which one can easily find on railway stations and bus stands.
I was introduced to Ruskin Bond that year when a girl who was older than me told me his famous story called A face in the dark. I was scared like hell. Electricity cuts were quite common those days. And we all kids in the colony used to sit on Parked two-wheelers and tell stories to each other. And that was the most suitable occasion to tell that story.
The next day, in school I told that story to the girl who used to sit next to me. The teacher made me sit next to her because I used to talk a lot. And obviously, she was the most sincere student in the class. I told that story to her when the teacher told everyone to keep their heads down and keep quiet.
So with all that whispers, which actually added charm to my narration, I told her that story.
The next day, she complained to the teacher and requested her to change her seat.
Reading is still an integral part of any life. Every day I spend at least half an hour reading whatever books I have. And Ruskin Bond's literature is permanent in my little library (and in my life) for the last many years. There's one benefit we over-imaginative people enjoy. We take no time in becoming part of a story. We went to the zone where the story is set quite easily.
In the year 2021, I revisited Mussoorie, intending to become a part of Mr Bond's stories and relive the moments I have always imagined.
The very first day, it was around 8 in the morning, I deboarded the ancient Mussoorie express at Dehradun.
The first thing which came to my mind is Mr Bond's first book 'The Room On The Roof'. I was imagining long roads with trees on both of their sides. I was imagining the clock tower in the dilaram bazaar, whose chaat shops are more famous than anything.
As I came out of the station, I heard someone beating drums in a little distance. And I could guess a bunch of teenagers, with coloured faces, dancing and celebrating the festival of Holi. I smiled and sat in the cab.
Mussoorie, here I come.
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It took me a little more than an hour to reach up in the hills. My cab driver, who was gentle enough to guide me towards my hotel, dropped me at the taxi stand near Picture palace on the mall. No matter how well he guided me to my hotel, I still lost my way and reached near Kurli police station. There were few people on the mall road and almost all the shops were closed. Looking at the police station, I quickly become part of the story called "Who killed Maharani".
I Started imaging Inspector Keemat Laal sitting in front of me, with a glass filled with English wine, as he started telling me the most interesting case in his career.
My imagination came to a halt when this old gentleman asked me whether I'm looking for a hotel.
Finally, I reached my hotel and took a quick shower. I was just so excited. I just looked at the hills on my right side, where Landour is. I was just so happy being so close to Mr Bond. Everything around me was his stories in all flesh and bones. I took out this book called "Landour Days" and started reading it.
To be continued...
HRN
