This poem
evokes the melancholy of past life. If you read Ruskin Bond’s books, you will
get introduced to his territory that worked as a backdrop for his work. This
poem throws reminiscent of Ruskin’s young life when he came to Mussoorie or in
the hills of Himalayas as a child. In this poem, he has mentioned about the
places like Rajpur and Jharipani – these small villages are situated around
Mussoorie. As a nature lover Ruskin often goes for walking to the hills, along
the streams and rivers. Well, a lot of time has changed since his youth days –
he has grown old and probably cannot walk to the same hills the way once he
used to do.
But still,
through this poem it is expressed that despite all odds he has managed to reach
up the hill. From the point, he sees the river flowing down to the plains, his
old memories lay flat down in the ravine and in this beautiful moment he feels
as all his teenage friends are there with him. It is a beautiful poem about the
time of youth – the vagrancy and inquisitiveness of youth is evident like
crystal clear waters of mountain streams. It is sad to observe that old age
debilities the aspirations that we see as a young person and longs continue
them all life. Well, life has to move on…
Remember the
old road,
The steep
stony path
That took us
up from Rajpur,
Toiling and
sweating
And grumbling
at the climb,
But enjoying
it all the same.
At first the
hills were hot and bare,
But then
there were trees near Jharipani
And we
stopped at the Halfway House
And swallowed
lungfuls of diamond-cut air.
Then onwards,
upwards, to the town,
Our appetites
to repair!
Well, no one
uses that old road any more.
Walking is
out of fashion now.
And if you
have a car to take you
Swiftly up
the motor-road
Why bother to
toil up a disused path?
You’d have to
be an old romantic like me
To want to
take that route again.
But I did it
last year,
Pausing and
plodding and gasping for air
Both road and
I being a little worse for wear!
But I made it
to the top and stopped to rest
And looked
down to the valley and the silver stream
Winding its
way towards the plains.
And the land
stretched out before me, and the years fell away,
And I was a
boy again,
And the
friends of my youth were there beside me,
And nothing
had changed.
By Ruskin Bond
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