My name is Bond...Ruskin Bond

He is one author whom I admire not just for his writings but also for his solitary existence. He lives a life of a mystic. A life of a recluse. I am tempted to compare him to the neighbor in Mending Wall by Frost. The exact line is - ‘I let my neighbor know beyond the hill’ Ruskin bond lives in the hill station of Dehardun. He is a living monument left by the British. His books are examples of verbal paintings something what Turner did using paint and brush. I doubt, whether an Indian can capture India like the way Bond did. My first taste of this green literary landscape was when I did one of his short story in my under graduation. The title of the story was – Night Train at Deoli. It is about a railway station, a boy and a girl and the forest that is behind the station yard. There is only one word to describe the story – Haunting. It is only after shifting to Chennai to pursue my masters that I started my journey through the Bond-ian literary terrain. The journey was little difficult at first but after that I was able to identify with the author and his mindscape. I should thank British Council and Ric videos for giving me the regular – verbal and visual feed on Ruskin Bond. I read most of his Nature writings and also watched the movie version of his book – Flight of the Pigeons. I am sure in the days to come. I will encounter this author again and that will be a memorable one.