LT COL NOEL ELLIS
24/XI/2024
Visiting a hill station takes you to another level of quietude. Though there is nothing much to do, if you are a lover of nature and enjoy absorbing the smells and sounds of the hills, there is no better place.
We as a family decided to take a short break at one called “Kasauli”. It was far from the madding crowd. Our friends had booked the ‘holiday home’ for us.
We were in a mood to explore with no idea about the town. We also knew that we would have to “puff and pant” to reach places. That did not deter us from promenading around the small town.
Our location was at one of the highest places, with the sunset point just fifty meters away. The setting sun was seen better from our bedroom window though. Ironically, there were people who kept asking us directions to the sunset point in the morning. Why in the morning? We kept wondering.
The first thing was a ‘milestone’ embedded in the road which gave us the elevation that we were at 6051feet above mean sea level. Some height I must say!
What caught my eye was a Chetak scooter parked on the road. Chetaks have evaporated from the scene today, but here it stood with pride. Thefts are unheard of in such places. I am sure the owner stayed down below from where driving it up was risky business. Even cars are parked on the rooftops in the hills.
A ‘gate pillar’ caught my wife’s eye, which read “Raj Villa”. Guess whose name did we see? Mr Khushwant Singh, the great author and columnist and one of my favourite writers. Touching his name plate was like doing a pilgrimage. I wish we had come earlier to witness how and where his pen created those lovely pieces of literature. I wish his ink never stopped. God Bless his soul.
Further down the road my chest swelled with pride. We found a long-lost relative staying in ‘ELLIS VILLE’. We were in two minds whether to go down and meet the folks or not. But when we peeped down the winding path, the steep slope deterred us from venturing any further. Moreover, it would have been discourteous to barge in just because we were the Ellis’. God Bless them too.
A brightly painted green contraption caught our attention. It was a fire hydrant of the era gone by with KWW, which I assume meant ‘Kasauli Water Works’ with the year 1802 mentioned on it. I hope that hydrant stays there forever.
Our next halt was at the Church established in 1844 almost 180 years ago. The building stood firm though in a pitiable state. The clock also didn’t work anymore. I was interested in the church’s ‘pipe organ’. The Church bearer informed us that it too had gone dysfunctional. What a pity! However, the stained-glass windows stood testimony to time.
Further ahead, there was a statue of a man in shorts holding a ‘hockey stick’. Could it be anyone else than Major Dyan Chand the ‘hockey wizard’. A salute to the statue was customary.
The heritage market was about fifty odd shops squeezed into a hundred meters stretch. Our stomachs were rumbling so we had a Thuppa break. What was famous there was the “bun samosa” and “bun Gulab jamun”. We tried the latter and it tasted fantastic.
It reminded me of me and my dear friend Dimpa, when we used to go to our tuck shop and eat ‘bun te barfi’ during our school recess. This was another variant of that.
My wife stopped at a local Kiryana shop when she saw local ‘Rajma’. Though smaller in size than the usual ‘kidney beans’, they were authentic Himachali rajma. Another variant is called ‘Chitli wale Rajma’ or ‘spotted beans’. They taste good. We bought as much as we could lug.
Tired of walking the whole day, we caught two winks once the sun had set. We had carried enough woollens for the anticipated cold during the walk to the Kasauli club some distance away for dinner.
The whistling winds through the pine trees, the smell of the jungle foliage, the brightly lit moon silhouetting the trees, sounds of jackals howling, fluttering of wings of a bird and not a human soul on the meandering road without street lights gave you the creeps. Hope there were no leopards, was a passing thought. We only wished that we could see ‘flying foxes’ gliding from tree to tree like we used to do in another hill station.
On the entrance of the club stood another vintage relic, the old letter box. What a beautiful piece of art it was!
Kasauli club was more British than the Britishers can imagine. ‘Sizzlers’ were the Chef’s choice which we relished. As they say, the proof of the pudding is in its eating. The bread pudding and caramel custard were just out of the world.
The next day, during my morning walk, I found a ‘P&T’ letterbox too, next to where the boss of the cantt stayed in an old bungalow made in 1840. What a privilege, I must say!
All good things come to an end. We wished we could explore more as we bid farewell to Kasauli. We shall plan a visit to another hill station soon. How soon will it be? I wonder!!!!!!!
JAI HIND
©® NOEL ELLIS
Wow!! One hill station I missed. Great.
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