Something unexpectedly happy happened in the morning today. I read through an interview of Ruskin Bond on yahoo. After several years - in the morning - I am thrilled!! He remains my favourite author till day. I have read most of his stories and still can’t have enough of his prose. ……I love the way he paints his characters. And often wish maybe one day, I could just write his way. Wishful thinking!! No harm.
As a child, I remember to smartly hide his books beneath my text books and pretend to study. And you bet, I was never caught. I can strut out with my shoulders up for all times to come!!! Afterall, Mr. Bond gave me the fodder for all my adventures. I often dreamt of being sent off to a boarding in Shimla. Somewhere, uphills still remain my first boarding school choice for my son, in case I decide to pack him off, someday.
I clearly recall having read his first story in my English text book. The setting was Shimla and the ending ghostly and obviously eerie. Left for the reader to conclude- intriguing. Truly his style. And that’s how I took an extra-ordinary liking for him. Then my favourite newspaper, Tribune ran a weekly column by him. The anecdotes, laden with the sweet nip of the hills, the local flavour of Dehra and Missourie, had me grab a copy of it, week after week- till the newspaper stopped carrying his column. (All Chandigarhians, of my era, no matter which part of the globe they are in, never forget Tribune. Now, thanks to the internet, I can still feed on my daily doze of Tribune, irrespective of having spent a good 10 years out of my hometown.)
I strangely compared one of my favourite English teacher, Sister Patricia Ann, with him. We all fondly called her Patty Aunty. She too was an Anglo- Indian, in her 50’s, stout, salt pepperish hair, garrulous -often quoting incidents from her childhood Mumbai (she was born and raised there). An absoulte fun unlike a nun. And my great imagination made Mr Bond her twin - separated at birth. Not my fault as she often talked about her twin brother. I never wanted to have this misconception cleared. And I could imagine whatever I wanted to ! Wonder how she would be now? It’s been 18 years since I left school.
Memorable and pleasurable incidents are flooding my mind since morning. Wish I could spare some more time to revisit each of them individually. Wish I could thank that journalist for taking her time out by interviewing Mr. Bond - once. Wish I could thank Mr. Bond for the beautiful stories he’s given us - once. Express gratitude and love - once. And pass on my treasusre of his stories to my son- once.
Memorable and pleasurable incidents are flooding my mind since morning. Wish I could spare some more time to revisit each of them individually. Wish I could thank that journalist for taking her time out by interviewing Mr. Bond - once. Wish I could thank Mr. Bond for the beautiful stories he’s given us - once. Express gratitude and love - once. And pass on my treasusre of his stories to my son- once.
Time to plan out a trip to Missourie J
