Scenes from a writer’s life: Ruskin Bond. Penguin books (1997)

Ruskin Bond has been an enigmatic writer, at least for me personally. Maybe it’s because of my introduction to Ruskin Bond long back with the story about the faceless school boy. That was one of the first stories about the supernatural or unexplainable or to put it simply, ‘ghost stories’ in my life. A chubby cheerful man (from the photographs I have seen of him), he gives me the impression of being someone who is stuck in India. There is always this concern that he does not actually belong here, but is so comfortable in his surroundings that we could actually accept him as one of ‘us’. I don’t have such impressions about all the authors I read, but Ruskin Bond is certainly someone special in that respect. There is always the longing to see a few of his photographs in his books. I have even planned to meet him when I go to mussoorie. (yeah. Some day I will find time to make that trip)
I also absolutely like the relaxed pace at which life moves around him and his characters. His work is an enjoyable mix of laid back life, taking things as they come, observing life from different angles and not missing out on the various characters around you. Every time I read one of his books, it brings in me the fantasy about being a writer, to indulge in life, chronicle it and make a career and a decent living out of it. The mussoorie setting also brings about the romance of the hills, the colonial backdrop, the chill in the cold wind and little things to enjoy in life like a bright sunny day.
This book is about the initial years. It is about the circumstances that made Ruskin Bond the person he is. With a troubled childhood and a very deep emotional bonding with his lonely father, I think the seeds of his loneliness were sown pretty early in life. Learning to fight these bouts of being left alone at home when his father went to work and waiting for those few hours his father could spend time with him, Ruskin had learnt the secret of being lonely in the world and, enjoying it. His descriptions of life in the various schools and about his friends look half hearted. It is like he did not have true friends in school. His friends, I guess came from outside school, among people who lived around him. I guess he was able to relate better to people who expected noting more of him than unconditional love.The book ends with him going to Jersy and London and then making that decision that his heart is in India and he cannot take it away from here, comes back to India. This is the time, when his first book ‘the room on the roof is published’. I have read that one before, but I think I will go through it again with a brand new perspective.