With the dawn of a new day,
As the golden halo smiles upon a sleepy planet
Sending its first rays through clouds and curtains alike
I arise to new opportunities, novel prospects and a thousand new dreams...
(The above picture was taken at the Company Gardens at Mussoorie.)
Once again, rifling through the memoirs of a true traveler:
As the golden halo smiles upon a sleepy planet
Sending its first rays through clouds and curtains alike
I arise to new opportunities, novel prospects and a thousand new dreams...
Once again, rifling through the memoirs of a true traveler:
Life takes
the most unexpected
turns at the
least thought of
times! Yes, last
summer during the
much coveted, long
drawn out holidays
my Dad gave
me the best
birthday surprise ever
in all of
my twenty-three years.
On the morning
of 12th May
2014, I was
handed an envelope
containing air-tickets to
Delhi from our
hometown in Bhubaneswar,
Odisha and a
four nights - five days
tour package to
Mussoorie. I just
love travelling or
rather you could
say I am
a born traveller,
having had my
first out-station train
journey at the
age of two,
and even today
that squeal of
delight I gave
on opening that
packet reverberates in
my ears, bringing
a smile to my lips.
Charged with
happiness, excitement coursing
through my veins,
I, Mom and
Dad headed off
to Delhi. The
flight to the
capital city was
an uneventful one,
the aircraft skimming
through the sea
of clouds, past
tiny outlines of
buildings, cities and
grasslands, unfurling like a
banner beneath us,
thousands of feet
below. The usual
two hours from
Bhubaneswar to Delhi
literally seemed like
two whole days
as time dragged
on at a
snail’s pace. But
finally, we alighted
at the Indira
Gandhi International Airport
at New Delhi,
and took a
cab to the
railway station. There,
we boarded the
Shatabdi Express to
Dehradun. And now
the real fun
began!
Travelling in
the First Class
compartment of one
of the most
special trains of
the Indian Railways
was a blissful
experience. We were
greeted with sticks
of roses and
a tempting array
of snacks and
beverages by uniformed
attendants dressed in
a royal attire – a
maroon buttoned-up coat,
white pantaloons and
a brilliant red Pagdi,
embroidered with much
gold thread. All
through the four-hour
journey, we were
munching on various
tid-bits, sipping coffee,
or black tea
while watching the
passing landscape with
growing enthusiasm. The
vegetation changed as
the train manoeuvred
through hilly terrain,
broadleaf banyans and
gulmohars giving way
to pines and
conifers. Located about
230 kilometres from
Delhi, Dehradun, also
called the “Abode
of Drona” – a sleepy
little town bordered
by hills and
mountains – offered a welcome
respite from the
heat and dust,
the crowd and clutter of
India’s capital city.
We drove through
metalled roads, twisting
and turning every
now and then,
spiralling upwards in
dizzying circles. These
roads were cut
out on hills,
joining one part
of the land
to the other.
Birches, pines, fir
and spruce towered
over us, their
needle-like leaves swaying
in the cool
breeze. Snow-white clouds
patterned like flocks
of fluffy sheep,
seemed to race
across the blue
sky, making an
occasional detour through
the window of our speeding
vehicle. Higher and
higher we drove,
the distant hills
blanketed by lush
greenery surrounded by
a backdrop of
snow-clad mountains, presented
a picture of
awe.
After a
forty-five minute drive,
we finally arrived
at Mussoorie, the
proverbial Queen of
Hill Stations, located
at an altitude
of over 6,500ft
above sea level.
On our way
to the hotel,
we caught a
glimpse of the
Kempty Falls, snaking
its way down
the mighty hills,
on the Yamunotri
Road. Soon, we
arrived at the
hotel Madhuban Highlands
where a room
had been pre-booked
for our stay.
It was a
fascinating place, located
high atop the
hills, towering over
the Mall Road
and the Camel’s
Back Road, the
ambience inviting and
the staff quite
friendly. Early the
next morning, we
set afoot down
the Camel’s Back
Road, breathing in
the scent of dawn, revelling
in the glory
of mother nature.
Far away from
the din and
bustle of city
life, spared from
the scorching heat
of the summer
sun, we toured
the small town
drinking in the
beauty of the
landscape and the picturesque scenario
it offered. Occasionally
pausing to buy
some mementos from
road-side vendors or
to enjoy a
steaming cup of
tea, I felt
as if it
were a dream.
Indeed, it was
nothing short of
paradise on earth!
We
also took a
ropeway ride to
Gun Hill, Mussoorie’s
second highest peak,
which offered a
spectacular view of
the Himalayan ranges.
The place is
so named as
the hilltop had
a gun mounted
on it before
independence. I was
saturated with joy,
completely at peace
with the world,
experiencing oneness with
nature. The weather
was bright and
clear, an occasional
layer of mist
enveloping the distant
slopes. Taking an
idyllic stroll through
the meandering mountain
roads of the
hill station, we
arrived at Landour
Bazaar, a local
marketplace where the
native sold cheap
trinkets and handicrafts.
I being a
great fan of
Ruskin Bond, the
author paid a visit to
the Cambridge Book
Store where he
came every Tuesday.
But sad coincidence
though, Mr. Bond was
away visiting my
hometown Bhubaneswar as
a delegate of
a conference. So
I just bought
two of his
books that they
promised to ship
to my postal
address duly signed,
with his autograph
after he returned.
As evening
descended, Camel’s Back
road offered a
spectacular view of
the sunset, as
we found the
much needed peace
and tranquillity. The
breeze seemed to
whisper through the
trees, the lazily
waving pines and
firs beckoning me
to rest in
their eternal serenity.
Ah! What a
blissful existence.
Other quills
will describe the grandeur of
the places of
tourist attraction around
Mussoorie – Dhanaulti, Nanga Parvat
and Jwalaji Temple.
All I can
say is that,
I have toured
many places across
India – North to South,
but Mussoorie has
indeed, justifiably left
me spellbound. Time
seemed to fly
with indecent haste
and soon the
day of our
departure dawned. Bags
packed, but our
minds completely refreshed
and rejuvenated, we
said goodbye to
those hills that
had so warmly
welcomed us to
their midst, making
us feel completely
at home in
a foreign land
and drove towards
the Dehradun Railway
Station for the
homeward journey. As the car
sped through the
thicket of trees,
I stole a
last glance of
the Snow white
facade of Madhuban
Highlands, receding in the distance
into a tiny
speck and made
a promise unto
myself – that yes I
would return once
more to this
heaven on earth,
which through its
subtle charm, grace
and serenity had
stolen my heart!
Yes, I now
call Mussoorie my
second home and
not unlike the
first Australian born
novelist Johan Lang
who spent his
last years at
Mussoorie, I too
hope that one
day, may my wandering soul
be put to
rest in the
lap of these
marvellous mountain ranges.
And
yes, those books
arrived a fortnight
after I reached
home, bearing Ruskin
Bond’s signature and
his best wishes.
Even today when I
slide
open the book
case, those two
books catch my eye and
I am visited
by a mad
urge to rush
back to Mussoorie,
relive all those
coveted moments, breathe
in the scent
of romance... To
all those who
do take out the time
to read this
post, it is
my sincere request,
that if tranquillity
and nature delight
you, do take
a trip to
Mussoorie, the Queen
of hills. And
I promise, you
will never regret
it! 
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