First Lady

There are many beautiful hill stations in India to beat the summer heat but the Prima donna and the hill that has earned the name, Queen of the hills is Mussoorie. The first lady stands as broad in the center and tapers to a point at each end. She boasts of the grand Himalayas as a backdrop and in this exquisitely beautiful hill station, Dad got his postings working as a Surveyor.

Through his office, he got a good house on rent and we were excited especially Dad and Mum. My sister and I were small kids and joined the nearby kindergarten school. Our brother was born a few years later.

I remember one beautiful sunny day we as well as Mehta Uncle and his family went to the three-kilometer-long road named Camel’s back road. Mehta's Uncle’s son was a year older than me and all the children were carried in baskets that the men who did the job on their backs.

There are a few falls near Mussoorie, such as Kempti falls and Bhatta falls and a few more. We were small and so never had the opportunity to walk around on our own. Time wears on and we were into October when one evening Dad told us that he would be leaving the town for Survey fieldwork and this time somewhere around in Punjab for six months. From November the town became cold and when the schools closed the roads seemed deserted. All were inside their homes sitting near the fireplace with closed doors and windows.

 As there were the long winter holidays most of the families used to drive down to their relatives’ place in Dehradun or some other city. This was our first winter in the cold hill station and Dad was not at home. My sister and I were too small to understand anything but Mom sometimes used to feel scared. Here the houses were built a bit farther than the other and so people staying alone used to feel lonely and especially on cold winter nights. All of a sudden one cold night Mom heard a large thud-like sound and again its repetition. She got frightened and pulled her shawl tightly as she opened the door her eyes strained to see through the foggy indistinct sky. Then she quickly shut the door. A while later as she lay on the bed again a loud sound as though someone was throwing big stones.

The next morning as she stepped out to buy some groceries holding a big umbrella then she saw a man opposite our house a little farther who had a sly and cunning face and he kept on staring at her. The man was hugely built and Mom was in her twenties slender and a young lady. She hurriedly crossed him and bought a few things and returned home. She kept us locked for a few minutes as taking both of us things would have been difficult.

There was no way to contact Dad and so she somehow sent a message to Mehta Auntie to visit her. As both Mom and Aunt discussed the strange big thud-like sound, Mehta Aunt told Mom to be careful as the dirty man had hurled stones at our roof to scare Mom.

This throwing stones on our roof continued for a few days and then Mehta Uncle took a decision and gave us one of his rooms with an attached bathroom and kitchen till Dad came home.

Back home Dad was furious and said that he will teach a lesson to the dirty man but where was the proof? So, he had to keep quiet but he never again kept us in the hill station when he had to go for the fieldwork.

We used to go to Kolkata, erstwhile Calcutta, and spend our winter holidays with our maternal Uncle and Aunts.

In life, problems come but the office people were good and helpful. They looked after the family when needed.