A letter to Ruskin Bond

Dear Ruskin,

Let me tell you how I fell in love with the things I cannot imagine my life without now. I was in primary school, probably in class 5 when my father bought me this apple red book titled “Children’s Omnibus by Ruskin Bond”. The first story that I read was “The Blue Umbrella”, and I honestly don’t remember the number of times I re-read that story, or that book for that matter. Well, that was just the start, and soon, it became my father’s responsibility to bring at least one of your books everytime he went to the city, or travelled anywhere for that matter.

I fell in love with books, and it was only a matter of time when I realised the power of words. I was always a creative child; from art to Bharatnatyam to writing, I was always looking to learn new ways of artistic creation everyday. You are the writer from the mountains, and you made me fall in love with the mountains and the beauty of simple living. I can always picture the mountains and the people you write about everytime I read about them.

Apart from “The Blue Umbrella”, my other favourite (not particularly in any order of preference) is “My Grandfather’s Zoo”. Ah, I can’t count the number of times I imagined your grandfather's bangalow, all the animals living there, Toto, your grandmother, Uncle Ken and Aunt Ruby. I can’t even tell you how disappointed my 13-year self was when I read that your grandfather’s house was sold to strangers and you had gone to live with your mother, your step-father and your infant step-brother. I mean, that was Rusty you wrote about, but you and him have merged in my imagination. I loved your father, and I still try to follow his advice of not writing with too small a handwriting.

I went to Manali with my friends earlier this year, and I remember this one moment when I sat down a little away from my friends with a cup of coffee in my hand. It was a small stall next to the road, and the mountains seemed too close to be real. It was one of those moments that made me feel like I am getting closer with the things that I love most ardently. At that moment Manali and Mussoorie did not seem too far away, and I was really filled with way too much of fresh mountain air to be tempted to just take a damned bus and land outside Cambridge Book Depot on saturday and meet that damned man who influenced the most significant trajectory of my life, had I not being broke from doing all those touristy mountains activities including, and not limited to paragliding.

At this point, I would like to clarify two things :

Firstly, I have only googled your home address and the fact that you come to Cambridge Book Depot every Saturday. I don’t know how accurate they are, but I am desperately hoping that at least the home address is true (because I really want to meet you, and not all for creepy stalker reasons). And secondly, if at all the life trajectory significantly influenced by you gets derailed for any reason, I will not at all blame you for it (Just a little, maybe. Just kidding).

I hope that you are happier than ever, along with your lovely family about whom you have written so dearly about. I really wish that you would keep writing, and keep that beautiful heart and health of yours as happy and thriving as you can. The mountain seems to suit you wonderfully, and I daresay the mountains are only too glad to have you live with them.

Much love,

Nimisha