LANDOUR beginning

Nit-picked from the little notebook in which I jotted down the few days at Landour,Mussourie for Arvind's documentary shoot.

27th February 2011

In the night train to Dehra Dun from Delhi.We have settled down to sleep through the night while the co-passengers spew bad shayari about the railways and god.A few others fervently prepare for some sort of interview/exam involving constant usage of 'Allopathy'.

1st March 2011

Last night was the first time I was woken up by silence.For a person who has always lived in throbbing cities and now in a hostel,I am a lover of silence. But the Landour's silence was striking, I could even hear the night breathe.

We woke up early today to catch the opening of the shops at Char Dukan.Missed it.Got late.

Taking a bath in this freezing weather must have been one of the medieval tortures.The water heater was easily outwitted by the cold,but we somehow managed.We ultimately dressed ourselves in a minimum of six layers and gave the impression of three balls rolling downhill when we walked down to Char Dukan.Arvind donned lesser layers than the Sandhya and myself.He displayed amazing thermal capacities.I guess snapping at us warmed him up good.

Started off with a yummy break-fasting at Anil's cafe in Char Dukan. A ginger lemon chai and pancake later,we headed to the Landour bazaar.The beautiful view pepped up the walk downhill.We also saw,gaped rather, at Ruskin Bond's quaint home.

Climbing uphill was a herculean task.Hiring a taxi would have left us terribly broke.There are no auto rickshaws in Mussourie.The cycle rickshaws will only take you till certain points near the Mall(the bustling commercial side of Mussourie).You never spot them up in Landour,also because its too steep.Only tourists take taxis,and therefore they are atrociously costly.Walking,like the locals do, is a good idea if you want to take in the beauty.But again walking downhill is a breeze but uphill requires a lot of patience.So we hitch-hiked,much to Arvind's discomfort.A kind soul with a pick-up van gave us a lift.Arvind and myself sitting at the back almost got thrown out when the van drove over the bumps at the bazaar.He gave us a lift alright.

In the late afternoon,it got dark soon and it drizzled.So it got colder.The chill managed to seep in through a thermal, five layers of thick t-shirts.two sweaters and a bulky coat.We could not get a shot of the sunset today since it was very cloudy.Thick grey clouds languidly moved past like reluctant school kids on a Monday morning.

Yesterday I could write for long without my mittens.Today my fingers blushed blue and froze.Its nearing night and I have ordered a hot lemon chai from Anilji.Its heat really helps to thaw my fingers.The hills have transformed into conical galaxies,while the huge black dog sits guard.Its so fluffy that I want to selfishly cuddle it for some warmth.The dogs in the hills are bigger and more furry.

The men who frequent Char Dukan have made a bonfire by the step to the toilet block way down.The night is cold,they are cold and the fire too shivers and joins in the conversation.

Anilji's mother is singing something from inside the room behind me.From what is audible,it sounds like a bhajan.The cricket commentary gave her song company.The shopkeepers of Char Dukan also live in the inner chambers.

2nd March 2011

We sat up late last night watching whatever we had shot last night.As a result we were up today only at 9am.Sandhya and myself slowly pestered Arvind the revise the schedule and let us shoot the Landour bazaar bit today instead of Char Dukan in the first half.He agreed,since he wanted a change of food.We were eating at CharDukan all this while.We were not cooking at Kilmarnock(the cottage where we were staying) sonce we would have to stock up the provisions.Cooking would be relaxing though.The stove is now used only to heat water for bathing,since the geyser in the bathroom was proving to be incompetent.

We stopped at CharDukan for a bit since Sandhya had some e-mail work.We picked up a jar of home-made marmalade from Sister's Bazaar on the way.We are planning to leave it at Ruskin Bond's doorstep with some nice notes.

Char Dukan is crowded today.From the conversations we have eavesdropped,they seem to be teachers and students from Woodstock,one of the many residential schools here. The foreigners here not tourists.There are few who have been teaching at Woodstock and other who come to learn and teach at the Language School near the cantonment.

Dollar is here.Curious as usual.He's the cream colored dog at Char Dukan.There's a handsome black one too.The man who told us Dollar's name did not know what the black one was called.So we called him Rupee.The weather is pleasant today,so both of them seem to be in high spirits.So is the monkey family.The little monkey is trying his best to take the chewing gum out of his mouth,but keeps failing miserably.He finally lets out an exasperated screech and runs across the roof.

We successfully left the marmalade at Ruskin Bond's home.All three of us put in our little notes.Try as I may,I could not come up with anything sane.So I whipped up what I call a jittery-fan's-silliest-limerick.I really hope he likes the marmalade.We had read about how he likes the homemade jams in Sister's bazaar, in one of his books.Sister's Bazaar is the cluster of little grocery stores and one boutique on our way to CharDukan.It is called so after the nuns who served as nurses at the British dormitories which was here long ago in Colonial India.

Downhill to Landour bazaar and straight to a South Indian restaurant.A simpler phrase for this is - bad choice! The food was horrible.We kept walking and talking videos and pictures till started raining.We sought refuge at the Clock Tower Cafe.It was a beautiful cafe at the edge of the road.One entire wall was glass and it gifted a gorgeous view of a large deodar flanked by distant hills.The rain made it seem even more ethereal.We ordered some coffee,a carrot cake and a chocolate cake and stomached it as we sunk into the plush couches(but bad music).

From Clock Tower Cafe we headed back uphill since the rain refused to stop.It foiled our outdoor shoot.After the bad lunch at the South Indian restaurant,we had decided to cook a simple meal in the night.So we got some provisions to rice,dal and potatoes.

We then headed to the antique shop called Sabri's.It had a lot of British antiques.There was even an old bruised piano with scratches.I liked it a lot.Someday I would not buy a brand new piano but an old one like this.It might sound horrible when I play it,but it would creak with stories of the hands which have played it eons ago-and what a sound that would be!

The place also had a lot of old books,mostly discards from Woodstock.I spotted a book by Janet Frame but not the one I've been looking for.I dint buy any books here but I got a fish-shaped pendent with 'Jasmin' etched on it.Wonder who Jasmin is,or was.

We reached Char Dukan and while talking to Pappu a wispy cloud had come a little lower than its friends to inspect a far away hill.It was beautiful.

While we took a break from shooting we heard Tutti Frutti yelling "Char Dukan ki jai ho!" Tutti Frutti's actual name is Carl.He is called so by the little boys here in return for him calling them the same.Tutti Frutti is from California and is here to finish writing his Doctorate project from Benaras Hindu University.He is a hyper American and speaks impeccable Hindi(without the amreekan accent).

We suddenly noticed a slit in the night sky.A ray of sunlight had forgotten to leave.

We headed back to Kilmarnock to cook for the night.Dollar and Rupee were missing.Maybe they were hiding from the rain.