“What really
knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you
wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you
could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That
doesn't happen much, though.”
-J.D. Salinger, The
Catcher in the Rye
This is the exact
feeling I get when I read one of Ruskin Bond's books.He is one person
whom I have never seen in flesh and blood but whenever I read his
books,I feel like penning a letter to him and giving him the biggest
hug.If there was any person whom I would ask to write my biography,it
would be him.My tryst with Ruskin began with “A Handful of Nuts”.If
anyone has ever read his books,most of his books are memoirs.He
speaks of his journey as a struggling author living in Dehradun with
a guy named Sitaram,the annoying but resourceful son of a local
dhobi.At that time he was quite broke and yet someone whose dignity
was his most important aspect.He befriended a number of people
including the Maharani of Magador who tries to develop sexual
relations with the young author.As I read the book,I seemed to
discover a person who is so much similar to me.He is one person who
has never given up on his dreams and followed his passion of writing
despite financial problems.And I found myself empathazing with him as
I had been in his position once.I struggle everyday for a job to meet
my needs,and yet I cherish the burning desire to be a writer someday
or may be a musician,and tour all over the world.Our likes and
dislikes both seem to match.He and I are both ardent lovers of
hills.I often find my family complaining that they have never been to
the sea for a long time because of me.I always wanted to live in a
small cottage ensconsed in the heart of the mountains.I will be alone
like Kafka Tamura, roaming around naked in my own cottage,where the
only sound will be the silence of the woods and the occasional
chirping of birds.Ruskin Sir lives in Landour, a small town in
Mussouri.And he is an occasional visitor to the local bookshop where
he spends his time with book lovers.I cannot imagine a more perfect
life than his,he lives alone and unmarried,away from the hullabaloo
of the world,he has no connection with the virtual world of facebook
or twitter and yet he maintains such a magnificent presence in the
hearts of his fans.His solitude,his happiness,his softness all seem
to remind me of my own traits.He could have been my soul mate,but
unfortunately,it's not possible in this birth.
I discovered Ruskin
more through his autobiographical novel, “Scenes from a Writer's
Life”.A child who was abandoned by his mother and who grew up in
the shadow of his loving father.The letters his father used to send
him left me teary eyed.Ruskin reminds me of the people that I have
lost once and old friends whom I had to bid farewell.I remembered my
old town where I grew up,where I made lots of friends but then one
day I left them in search of a better life.I often used to think I
would meet them someday,but that time never came,I changed as I
indulged myself in the pleasures of the city life.The same thing
happened with Ruskin.He had a friend named Somi whom he never saw
after he came back from England.These are his exact words about him-
“To return to
Somi,he was one of those friends I never saw again as an adult,so he
remains transfixed in my memory as eternal
youth,dream-bright,unchanging..I have often dreamt of Somi,and it is
always the same dream..We meet in a fairground,set up on the old
parade ground.In the dream I am a man but he is still a boy”
I have often felt
the same way about my own childhood friends-how they have always
remained eternally young in my imagination,and whenever I close my
eyes I can see them prancing around me.Nostalgia-one of the strongest
emotions a man has,and Ruskin Bond is full of it.
Reading his book is
reading my own life.A few days ago I penned a birthday letter for
him,but unfortunately there was no way I could mail it to him.So,I
shared it on his fan page.I could feel the goosebumps when I
inscribed every word in the letter and my voice choked when I told
about it to my mother.It was like writing a letter to a long lost
friend.I don't know if I will ever get to know him personally,but I
think,I know him well enough.It's like both of us were so meant for
each other,we have shared a journey together but in different parts
of the world and in different times.But I found him in his beautiful
books-a beautiful person who turns the mundane and hopeless world
around him into a place full of love and peace.His books open doors
to his heart and I love to get lost in it again and again.
