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tbr_the_unconquered 's review for:
Rain in the Mountains: Notes from the Himalayas
by Ruskin Bond
The rain has been rather incessant at my place for the last three days. It might be a sunny and bright day to begin with but early afternoon brings the first dark clouds and as the day progresses, more clouds roll in. The downpour begin by evening and lasts well into the night and it is not a silent or quiet kind of a rain. This is the perfect kind of weather to be reading this book in. I would pause after every essay/poem and sit back listening to the rain outside while I could imagine the beautiful vistas that Ruskin Bond outlines. Today seems to be a tad better and as I sit here keying in this review, the rain is only a mild patter on the windowpanes.
As the title outlines, the whole of this little book is packed to the rafters with writings about the Himalayas and of life in the mountains. Ruskin Bond was not a nature enthusiast who dashed in and out of the mountains but dropped anchor in a remote little town bordering the Himalayas for a major part of his life. After having lived for a bit of time in London and later in Delhi, Bond developed restless feet and an overpowering nostalgia for a life near the mountains. He found a rather dilapidated house for lodging and rents out the third floor with a window that opens to trees, a forest and the mountains beyond. Taking his seat near the window and with his trusted typewriter in attendance, Bond regales the reader about the little pleasures of life. Nothing is insignificant for this writer, he views all forms of life to be amusing and interesting to talk about. He speaks with the same amusement about a ladybug and a bank manager of the town. He is excited about birdsong, the leaves changing colour with the seasons, a conversation with a little child etc. This same innocence and amusement reflects in his writing too which is all about short, simple sentences that give way to easy understanding.
What made the whole book endearing ? I have lately developed this habit of going up to the terrace of my house in the evening as the sun is setting (on days when there are no rains). It is blissful to stay there watching the last light of the day give way to twilight and later to the night. The orchestra of the birds wind down gently and I can tirelessly watch the crows, mynas, storks, parakeets and countless other birds flying away to their roosts while the bats, owls and other night birds slowly become active. The essays and poems from Bond captured in words what I could feel in those little moments and it was this personalization that made me adore what he has written.
There is little doubt that Bond romanticizes the mountains and the life therein but there is a certain charm to his words that is unshakeable. A feeling that slowing down your life and paying attention to what goes on around you will be surprisingly more rewarding than the rat-race of life. Here he picks a few lines from R.L. Stevenson to illustrate his point :
And this shall be for music when no one else is near,
The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear !
That only I remember, that only you admire,
Of the broad road that stretches, and the roadside fire.
So if you are someone who thinks that the journey is as important as the destination, if you love your greenery, trees, birds and animals, if you have mountains in your blood then hesitate no more before you pick this up to read. Recommended !
And yes, Bond also highlights this beautiful quote from Virginia Woolf which made me smile :
“I have sometimes dreamt ... that when the Day of Judgment dawns and the great conquerors and lawyers and statesmen come to receive their rewards -- their crowns, their laurels, their names carved indelibly upon imperishable marble -- the Almighty will turn to Peter and will say, not without a certain envy when He sees us coming with our books under our arms, "Look, these need no reward. We have nothing to give them here. They have loved reading.”
As the title outlines, the whole of this little book is packed to the rafters with writings about the Himalayas and of life in the mountains. Ruskin Bond was not a nature enthusiast who dashed in and out of the mountains but dropped anchor in a remote little town bordering the Himalayas for a major part of his life. After having lived for a bit of time in London and later in Delhi, Bond developed restless feet and an overpowering nostalgia for a life near the mountains. He found a rather dilapidated house for lodging and rents out the third floor with a window that opens to trees, a forest and the mountains beyond. Taking his seat near the window and with his trusted typewriter in attendance, Bond regales the reader about the little pleasures of life. Nothing is insignificant for this writer, he views all forms of life to be amusing and interesting to talk about. He speaks with the same amusement about a ladybug and a bank manager of the town. He is excited about birdsong, the leaves changing colour with the seasons, a conversation with a little child etc. This same innocence and amusement reflects in his writing too which is all about short, simple sentences that give way to easy understanding.
What made the whole book endearing ? I have lately developed this habit of going up to the terrace of my house in the evening as the sun is setting (on days when there are no rains). It is blissful to stay there watching the last light of the day give way to twilight and later to the night. The orchestra of the birds wind down gently and I can tirelessly watch the crows, mynas, storks, parakeets and countless other birds flying away to their roosts while the bats, owls and other night birds slowly become active. The essays and poems from Bond captured in words what I could feel in those little moments and it was this personalization that made me adore what he has written.
There is little doubt that Bond romanticizes the mountains and the life therein but there is a certain charm to his words that is unshakeable. A feeling that slowing down your life and paying attention to what goes on around you will be surprisingly more rewarding than the rat-race of life. Here he picks a few lines from R.L. Stevenson to illustrate his point :
And this shall be for music when no one else is near,
The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear !
That only I remember, that only you admire,
Of the broad road that stretches, and the roadside fire.
So if you are someone who thinks that the journey is as important as the destination, if you love your greenery, trees, birds and animals, if you have mountains in your blood then hesitate no more before you pick this up to read. Recommended !
And yes, Bond also highlights this beautiful quote from Virginia Woolf which made me smile :
“I have sometimes dreamt ... that when the Day of Judgment dawns and the great conquerors and lawyers and statesmen come to receive their rewards -- their crowns, their laurels, their names carved indelibly upon imperishable marble -- the Almighty will turn to Peter and will say, not without a certain envy when He sees us coming with our books under our arms, "Look, these need no reward. We have nothing to give them here. They have loved reading.”