Rusty- The boy from The Hills - A little Note

Have you ever been on a short train journey, like From Delhi to Agra? My Grandparents used to live in Agra so the taste of those journeys is still fresh on my tongue. I remember my mother holding one of my hand in Taj express or InterCity express., while I was holding my comic book from my other hand. I remember those small boys and girls whom I have met on those journeys. Those potato cutlets we used to share. Those Sharing of our respective experiences with each other. But one thing was common in those journeys - A goodbye, without any hope to meet again. That feeling had a warmth and emptiness that can't be described in words. I always wished that journey would never have ended. 

I had many encountered with those boys and girls again in my dreams. But at the end of the day, it was just a dream.

When this book was ending I had a similar feeling. It felt like a friend of mine, whose lines of destiny intersected my lines of destiny for a while, then diverting on a different, way all of a sudden.

This book is a collection of various encounters of Rusty. It begins in Dehra, where his grandparents used to live. As his Grandfather was retired from the Forest department, he was very attached to his Animals. One of them is Toto, a mischievous monkey, who almost killed himself while trying to have a bath in boiling water in a kettle. The other one is Timothy, a smart cub of Tiger. And then there is Tutu, a monkey again, Popeye the parrot, Chips a squirrel, and many others.

The book takes a jump and describes the ultimate bond between Rusty and Trees.

And then comes the famous Rusty's escape from Java, which is undoubtedly the most amazing, action-packed story I've ever read.

The book shifts the Room of many colours to the last Tonga ride, halting a bit to the funny yet fantastic stories of Uncle Ken.

And then, we have an encounter with The Ghost in the garden. Now, this is my personal favourite. This story has an element of horror, with Mr Bond's epic style, which is soothing as the story ends. 

The last three stories are more of Mr Bond's personal experiences (that's what I believe). 

And when the book was coming to an end, I honestly never wanted to it end. Just like that journey, when I had to leave my friend forever whom I had met a couple of hours back.

If you haven't read the book, you are missing something beautiful. If you have read the book, do share your experiences with me. You can write it on hrntales@gmail.com

Mr Bond's stories are like a pond of cold water, one feels fresh and rejuvenated after taking a dip in it.

That's all from my side. Till then keep reading and keep loving. 

and yes you can grab your copy from HERE.    

HRN

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Rust - i - fication - The Subtle Art of Becoming a Part of Mr Bond's Evergreen Fables

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.

....................................................................................................................................................

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

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