In Rusty’s world

Feels like it’s been eons since I last put pen to paper, well metaphorically as these days everything gets dished up in electronic form only. Still feel rusty as the long layoff after convocation seems to have taken its toll on my industriousness!  Among other diversions, it’s the season of IPL and the organizers are busy thrusting rubbish down your throat. Having said that, I still seem to be enjoying the mindless fun. Old habits die hard .  Summer has reached its peak and the mango showers have really been a blessing. As a kid I used to curse these rains for spoiling my evening outdoor fun; how times have changed!

And then today suddenly I thought I’ll write, simply to get myself back in order or in Ruskin’s words to ‘get the juices flowing’.

Ever since I started reading Bond, I had longed to visit ‘Ruskin’s Dehra’. Meeting the writer himself and having a chit-chat though seemed wishful thinking. A hap hazard plan saw the quadruple took the night train from Lucknow, Doon Express, which pulled into Dehradun early morning. It looked rather deserted apart from a few coolies and dreary eyed travelers. If you’ve ever read Bond, you’d have a picture of Dehradun in your mind with the colonial buildings, pony driven carts and those way side plants which were described to the minutest details.  The present day Dehradun, I guess has played an important part in driving Ruskin to his abode in Mussoorie. It’s just like any other Indian city teeming with vehicles and people in their perennial rat race..

A bit of jostling made sure we got hold of the tatkal tickets to go back to Lucknow.  A rickety shack of a bus was boarded to Mussoorie without further ado.

Bang in the middle of off season; hotels never came cheaper in Mussoorie. The best way of getting around Mussoorie is to go for one of the many tourist packages put up at the taxi centre. Different permutations and combinations will help one to go for the best package with most places in it. The cab took us to Kempty falls, Surkhanda mandir, Budh mandir and a few other sites of tourist interest.

Surkanda Devi Mandir

But more than that I wanted to get a glimpse of Mussoorie’s most famous denizen and kept reminding the cab driver to make sure he took us to Rusty’s place. It was not to be though on day one as we rolled in pretty early after hitting the hotel.

Mussoorie gets really cold by November and you can really struggle with the tepid water offered early in the mornings. New day, new cab and seemingly better chance of meeting Mr.Bond as the cabbie promised to take us to his home by evening.

The place is the perfect hideaway if you want to be far from the madding crowd. Nestled in the foothills of the mighty Himalayas, it’s infested with pine trees which remind you of those postcards you used to love as a child.

Staring at the magnificent Nanga Parbat

The last stop as per the itinerary was Lal Tibba -  the highest point in Mussorrie where you get to truly admire the landscape with a mounted binocular perched around 2500 m above sea level. Rapidly fading light though, robbed us off the magnificent sight.

Mist slowly blanketing Mussoorie as seen from Lal Tibba

But there had to be one final visit before calling off our Mussorrie sojourn. Winding steps took us to the top of a 3 storeyed building which had an eerie feel to it. We could see carefully made patterns on the occasion of Diwali on the porch which had a swing hanging from the roof. A knock on the door met with moments of silence before a portly figure in red pullover started becoming visible through the glass. The door finally opened..

 Mr. Bond (B): slightly quizzed look on the face

Me (words not escaping my mouth): Sir, we’re coming from Lucknow

B: Not today, I’m a bit busy. Please do come some other time

Me (still in awe): Fine sir, thank you!

B: thank you

I was content. Even if we had bought a bit more time I don’t think I could have said something other than “Sir, I’m a great fan of yours…” or probably a clichéd “Sir, I really admire you”. It was the greatest one minute of my life.

That night we packed off to Dehra and got into a cozier hotel for twice as much. Last day of the trip had visits to NDA and Mindrolling Monastery. We had started our journey back by midnight as the train to Lucknow pulled away from ‘A town called Dehra’.

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