A sudden unplanned trip to the mountains is the best that could happen to a sombre and scuffy life. This time the trip was directed to the south-western range of the Himalayas – to the capital city of Himachal Pradesh – to Shimla, the city with a pulsating past.
A favourite destination of the British, the charm and cheer of the city continues to marvel the various visitors flocking to the happening Himalayas. Preferred during summers and loved during winters, the city has witnessed drastic changes over the years and yet continues to preserve the legacies and the stories of the times that are gone.
A ride in the ‘toy train’ presented the abso-gorgeous highs and lows which the Himalayas are made of; the lush green mountains inhabiting wild, big, ferocious animals; all a pleasure to the eyes and soul of a starved-for-serenity individual. A few hours of gearing up for a long day ahead and then climbing up and down the hills witnessing the remnants of the past and beholding the remains of tomorrow.
The tiresome climb to the tracks that led to the Jakhoo temple which could not be reached for there were monkeys abound – some swayed, some jumped to hither sides, few others just stared – and a little lack of will-power. A promise to the strong God whose idol placed at the peak of a mountain seems to be keeping a watch over the city, of returning again someday – someday not so far from now. A faithful friend on the way who played along and posed for pictures – a Sussex Spaniel from the neighbourhood.
Walking down the winding terrain brought us to the wonder that was ‘Rothney Castle’. So many thoughts – wonderful and scary flashed in the mind. Old buildings – uninhabited ones – have a mystic aura surrounding them. You love them and yet you are scared to feel them, to go close to them. The pitiable dilapidated condition of the entrance is the first picture that the ‘history house’ presents to the wretched traveller. With ‘Rothney Castle’ engraved on one side and the name ‘Rajender Mohan’ on the other, a grim picture of a haunted house appears before the eyes. Many who would not visit the place would never get to know that the Rothney Castle was the home to Allan Octavian Hume who founded the Congress in 1885. The locals say his spirit haunts the castle and the traveller is left at the mercy of that which stands in front of the eyes and relate it to that which creeps into the ears.
A halt at the Christ Church brought back the wandering veins of the mind to peace. The Church with a silent soothing atmosphere stands a spectator to the crowd that flocks to the Ridge each day. The first corner stone of the Church was laid down in 1844 – just 169 years back – whoa! Soulful prayer songs being played in the background, the withered and wronged heart can rest well in the peace the abode of the Lord offers.
And then the Ridge, the ‘Iron Lady’ stands smiling there. You witness the ‘3 idiots’ shooting location where Chatur spoke of the ‘home-made cookies from San Francisco’ and laugh all by yourself. Whichever direction you look at, all you find is pleasure. ‘Jab We Met’ and many other movies, they start playing back in the mind of the movie-buff.
The beautiful buildings which house the Municipal Corporation, the Court of the Judicial Magistrate, the BSNL office and the Police Headquarters – taste to the soul like old charming delightful wine. Old wines, old bottles, new beholders. Heritage walks, homes to Maharajahs, howling dogs, screeching monkeys lead you to Kali Bari where you hear the chants and bells – and see devotion through closed praying eyes. Monks with latest gadgets, beggars wishing you good day, starved yet sturdy men carrying heavy loads on their backs climbing up and down the hills – no stigma, no scorn – this city presents various wonders.
Then the visit to Fagu, with a majestic view of the snow-laden Kinnar Kailash; the ‘knight-like’ ride in Kufri; the glorious greens of Naldehra; the colourful roof-tops in Sanjauli; the apple orchards that breathe life into the purses of many mountain residents; the happy assistance of the Himachal Tourism office; the ‘hpmc Ditto’ – the taste of goodness; the mouth-watering momos; the apple pie with vanilla ice cream at the Embassy Café – the letters written, the books arranged, the appealing ambiance; and the local old man who claimed with pride “Apna Himachal toh swarg hai madam, swarg!”
This is the soul of Shimla – panoramic, picturesque, priceless!
Neetika
“Preferred during summers and loved during winters!” Wonderfully written!! Every moment captured in a way that it remains fresh in memory for years! How could you forget, “Bandar toh Himachal ke aabhushan hai.” 🙂
A wonderful trip it was…peace to the heart in the lap of mountains, quality time in the company of loved ones and memories to be recollected for lifetime. Waiting eagerly for the next ‘sudden unplanned trip’. 🙂
Yashasvi Singh
Thank you, Neetika!
We will plan another trip sometime next year 🙂
Neetika
No plans please…a spontaneous one is more exciting. 🙂
Abhishek
WOW!!
This writeup brought a lot of memories back to life…
‘n’ no of rides to my second home Himachal and a few occasional stops at the concrete jungle Shimla. Memories of Himachal are always refreshed when I read something or the other about the mountains. But this is the only time when someone made me remember the so called Concrete jungle Shimla city the way I see it.
Brilliantly written article Yashasvi….Keep writing (yes this is a humble request) 🙂
Yashasvi Singh
Thanks Abhishek!
This one’s from the eyes of a non-rider and yet it pleased you. Glad to know that.