Falling in Love Again: Stories of Love and Romance, by Ruskin Bond.

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Falling in Love Again:

Stories of Love and Romance

By Ruskin Bond.

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One remnant of erstwhile colonial regime that was in India, dedicates this book to those that would be colonisers in Mumbai - because, unlike, say, Madras, the latter are confident of no opposition from a state that is more nationalist than their own homes.

Stories here are of love all too human, with romance, if any, is quite elusive and fleetingly glimpsed, except the stance of the author - somehow more of a deer and less of a social creature.

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There seem to be two sequels to the long love story about Sushila, and the one about Shamli has more confirming details, but perhaps both are true.

Unless it's all separate parts of Bond's life, and the name used is camouflage - or revenge.

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Ruskin Bond was supposedly born and brought up in India, and supposedly knows kanguage of the region of his childhood, Hindi.

" ... The cows had strayed and she ran after them, calling them by name: ‘Neelu, Neelu!’ (Blue) and ‘Bhuri!’ (Old One). ... "

He's surprisingly making a very stupid mistake there. Bhuri is brown or grey, and old would be Boodhie. He could have had a clue, since the first cow is Neelu.

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Familiar, from the Hindi film (based on this story) that was made by the man whom this collection is dedicated to, along with his wife, Susanna’s Seven Husbands seems based on facts.

" ... But this was the tomb of Susanna Anna-Maria Yeates, and the inscription (most of it in Latin) stated that she was mourned by all who had benefited from her generosity, her beneficiaries having included various schools, orphanages and the church across the road. There was no sign of any other grave in the vicinity and presumably her husbands had been interred in the old Rajpur graveyard, below the Delhi Ridge."

Film was spoiled by the sanctimonious turn given that's completely absent from the story, however, while the story is not without several complex layers of humor and without a shred of judgement, and a bit of a slap in face of misogyny at that.

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Another mistake from someone supposedly born and brought up in India.

"‘Are squirrels sacred?’ asked Suraj, curiously watching one fumbling with a piece of bread which we had thrown away.

"‘Krishna loved them. He would take them in his arms and stroke them with his long, gentle fingers. That is why they have four dark lines down their backs from head to tail. Krishna was very dark-skinned, and the lines are the marks of his fingers.’"

One, there's no such story about Krishna and squirrel, much less about loving.

Two, the story about strikes on back of a squirrel involves Raama, who stroked back of one as it assisted in building of Setu across to Lanka.

Three, the colour of stripes on back of the squirrel has nothing to do with skin colour of one who pats it or strokes it. Besides, it's rather stupid to ascribe dark colour to inside of a palm or finger of Krishna, or Raama. Or most Indians.

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A tad Thurberesque here, especially about Thurber's hilarious story about the night the bed fell.

"This chapter, or story, could not have been written but for a phone call I received last week. I’ll come to the caller later. Suffice to say that it triggered off memories of a hilarious fortnight in the autumn of that year (can’t remember which one) when India and Pakistan went to war with each other. It did not last long, but there was plenty of excitement in our small town, set off by a rumour that enemy parachutists were landing in force in the ravine below Pari Tibba.

"The road to this ravine led past my dwelling, and one afternoon I was amazed to see the town’s constabulary, followed by hundreds of concerned citizens (armed mostly with hockey sticks) taking the trail down to the little stream where I usually went birdwatching. The parachutes turned out to be bed sheets from a nearby school, spread out to dry by the dhobis who lived on the opposite hill. After days of incessant rain the sun had come out, and the dhobis had finally got a chance to dry the school bed sheets on the verdant hillside. From afar they did look a bit like open parachutes. In times of crisis, it’s wonderful what the imagination will do.

"There were also blackouts. It’s hard for a hill station to black itself out, but we did our best. Two or three respectable people were arrested for using their torches to find their way home in the dark. And of course, nothing could be done about the lights on the next mountain, as the people there did not even know there was a war on. They did not have radio or television or even electricity. They used kerosene lamps or lit bonfires!"

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Contents

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Introduction

The Eyes Have It

The Night Train at Deoli

Tribute to a Dead Friend

Love Is a Sad Song

Time Stops at Shamli

The Girl from Copenhagen

Binya Passes By

His Neighbour’s Wife

Susanna’s Seven Husbands

A Love of Long Ago

A Little Song of Love

We Must Love Someone

The Room on the Roof (Extract)

The Message of the Flowers

Delhi Is Not Far (Extract)

Who Kissed Me in the Dark?

Topaz

Love Lyrics for Binya Devi

On Fairy Hill

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REVIEW

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Introduction

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" ... I turned to my old friend P.G. Wodehouse and came up with the following line, which I felt was just right for me:

"‘You know, the way love can change a fellow, is truly frightful to contemplate.’ "

"Wodehouse’s heroes usually make asses of themselves when they fall in love, and so do most of us. Certainly I made an ass of myself time and again (and still do), but when, in my twenties and thirties I sat down to write about my broken heart, I took myself very seriously."

" ... Stories such as ‘The Night Train at Deoli’, ‘The Eyes Have It’ and ‘Time Stops at Shamli’ were written when I was in my early twenties, and have stood the test of time quite well. Fifty years after they were written they still turn up in anthologies aimed at both the young and the old.

"In my thirties I came to live in the hills, and my love stories were now greatly influenced by the world of nature. ... "

" ... I have loved people, I have loved books, I have loved flowers, the sun, moon and stars, old roads, old trees, children, grannies, butterflies, seashells, fairies... And of course I keep falling in love, for where love begins, there is the border of heaven."

"Ruskin Bond

"January 2013"

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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1. The Eyes Have It

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"‘She was an interesting girl,’ I said. ‘Can you tell me—did she keep her hair long or short?’

"‘I don’t remember,’ he said sounding puzzled. ‘It was her eyes I noticed, not her hair. She had beautiful eyes but they were of no use to her. She was completely blind. Didn’t you notice?’"

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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2. The Night Train at Deoli

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About a girl selling baskets at a train station, seen in passing.

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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3. Tribute to a Dead Friend

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"I met him in London in the summer of ’54. I was trying to become a writer while I worked part-time at a number of different jobs. I had been two years in London and was longing for the hills and rivers of India. Thanh was Vietnamese. His family was well-to-do and though the Communists had taken their home town of Hanoi, most of the family was in France, well established in the restaurant business. Thanh did not suffer from the same financial distress as other students whose homes were in Northern Vietnam. He wasn’t studying anything in particular but practised assiduously on the piano, though the only thing he could play fairly well was Chopin’s Funeral March.

"My friend Pravin, a happy-go-lucky, very friendly Gujarati boy, introduced me to Thanh. Pravin, like a good Indian, thought all Asians were superior people, but he didn’t know Thanh well enough to know that Thanh didn’t like being an Asian.

"At first, Thanh was glad to meet me. He said he had for a long time been wanting to make friends with an Englishman, a real Englishman, not one who was a Pole, a Cockney or a Jew; he was most anxious to improve his English and talk like Mr Glendenning of the BBC. Pravin, knowing that I had been born and bred in India, that my parents had been born and bred in India, suppressed his laughter with some difficulty. But Thanh was soon disillusioned. My accent was anything but English. It was a pronounced chi-chi accent.

"‘You speak like an Indian!’ exclaimed Thanh, horrified. ‘Are you an Indian?’

"‘He’s Welsh,’ said Pravin with a wink."Thanh was slightly mollified. Being Welsh was the next best thing to being English. Only he disapproved of the Welsh for speaking with an Indian accent.

"Later, when Pravin had gone, and I was sitting in Thanh’s room drinking Chinese tea, he confided in me that he disliked Indians.

"‘Isn’t Pravin your friend?’ I asked.

"‘I don’t trust him,’ he said. ‘I have to be friendly but I don’t trust him at all. I don’t trust any Indians.’

"‘What’s wrong with them?’

"‘They are too inquisitive,’ complained Thanh. ‘No sooner have you met one of them than he is asking you who your father is, and what your job is, and how much money you have in the bank.’

"I laughed and tried to explain that in India inquisitiveness is a sign of a desire for friendship, and that he should feel flattered when asked such personal questions. I protested that I was an Indian myself and he said if that was so he wouldn’t trust me either.

"But he seemed to like me and often invited me to his rooms. He could make some wonderful Chinese and French dishes. When we had eaten, he would sit down at his second-hand piano and play Chopin.

"He always complained that I didn’t listen properly. He complained of my untidiness and my unwarranted self-confidence. It was true that I appeared most confident when I was not very sure of myself. I boasted of an intimate knowledge of London’s geography but I was an expert at losing my way and then blaming it on someone else."

"‘I want to study your stupidity,’ he said.

"That was why he never made any real friends. He loved to work out your faults and examine your imperfections. There was no such thing as a real friend, he said. He had looked everywhere but he could not find the perfect friend.

"‘What is your idea of a perfect friend?’ I asked him. ‘Does he have to speak perfect English?’

"But sarcasm was only wasted on Thanh—he admitted that perfect English was one of the requisites of a perfect friend!"

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" ... He magnified his own troubles and minimized other people’s troubles. When I was in hospital with an old acquaintance, amoebic dysentery, Pravin came to see me every day. Thanh, who was not very busy, came only once and never again. He said the hospital ward depressed him."

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"‘Did you ask her?’ I said.

"‘Yes. She said she would think about it. That is the same as “yes”.’

"‘It isn’t,’ I said, unfortunately for both of us. ‘She told me the same thing.’

"Thanh looked at me as though I had just stabbed him in the back. Et tu Ruskin, was what his expression said."

"At twelve o’clock I woke Pravin. Whenever I could not sleep, I went to Pravin. He knew the remedy for all ailments.

"As on previous occasions, he went to the cupboard and produced a bottle of Cognac. We got drunk. He was seventeen and I was nineteen and we were both quite decadent.

"Three weeks later I returned to India. Thanh went to Paris to help in his sister’s restaurant. I did not hear of Vu-Phuong again.

"And now, a year later, there is the letter from Pravin. All he can tell me is that Thanh died of some unknown disease. I wonder if it had anything to do with the ticking in his chest or with his vague threats of suicide. I doubt if I will ever know. And I will never know how much I hated Thanh, and how much I loved him, or if there was any difference between hating and loving him."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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4. Love Is a Sad Song

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"The path to the little stream took us through the oak forest, where the flashy blue magpies played follow-my-leader with their harsh, creaky calls. Skirting an open ridge (the place where I now sit and write), the path dipped through oak, rhododendron and maple, until it reached a little knoll above the stream. It was a spot unknown to the tourists and summer visitors. Sometimes a milkman or woodcutter crossed the stream on the way to town or village but no one lived beside it. Wild roses grew on the banks."

"I may stop loving you, Sushila, but I will never stop loving the days I loved you."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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5. Time Stops at Shamli

................................................................................................

There seem to be two sequels to the long love story about Sushila, and the one about Shamli has more confirming details, but perhaps both are true.

Unless it's all separate parts of Bond's life, and the name used is camouflage - or revenge.

................................................................................................

"Why it stopped at Shamli, I never could tell. Nobody got off the train and nobody got in. There were never any coolies on the platform. But the train would stand there a full five minutes and the guard would blow his whistle and presently Shamli would be left behind and forgotten. . .until I passed that way again."

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" ... I waited on the platform till the bell clanged for the train to leave, but Sushila did not come.

"Somehow, I was not disappointed. I had never really expected her to come. Unattainable, Sushila would always be more bewitching and beautiful than if she were mine.

"Shamli would always be there. And I could always come back, looking for Major Roberts."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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6. The Girl from Copenhagen

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Another story that's a sequel.

"When I was living and working in London I knew a Vietnamese girl called Phuong. She studied at the Polytechnic. During the summer vacations she joined a group of students—some of them English, most of them French, German, Indian and African—picking raspberries for a few pounds a week and drinking in some real English country air. Late one summer, on her return from a farm, she introduced me to Ulla, a sixteen-year-old Danish girl who had come over to England for a similar holiday."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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7. Binya Passes By

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" ... The distant mountains loomed purple in the shimmering dust-haze.

"I walked through the pines again, but I did not hear the singing. ... "

"The window opened on to the forest. Trees reached up to the window. Oak, maple, walnut. Higher up the hill, the pines started, and further on, armies of deodars marched over the mountains. And the mountains rose higher, and the trees grew stunted until they finally disappeared and only the black spirit-haunted rocks rose up to meet the everlasting snows. Those peaks cradled the sky. I could not see them from my windows. But on clear mornings they could be seen from the pass on the Tehri road.

"There was a stream at the bottom of the hill. ... "

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Ruskin Bond was supposedly born and brought up in India, and supposedly knows kanguage of the region of his childhood, Hindi.

" ... The cows had strayed and she ran after them, calling them by name: ‘Neelu, Neelu!’ (Blue) and ‘Bhuri!’ (Old One). ... "

He's surprisingly making a very stupid mistake there. Bhuri is brown or grey, and old would be Boodhie. He could have had a clue, since the first cow is Neelu.

................................................................................................

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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8. His Neighbour’s Wife

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"She had certainly succeeded in surprising me. Her henna-stained forefinger rested on an advertisement in the matrimonial columns.

"Bachelor journalist, age 25, seeks attractive young wife well-versed in household duties. Caste, religion no bar. Dowry optional.

"I must admit that Leela had made a good job of it. In a few days the replies began to come in, usually from the parents of the girls concerned. Each applicant wanted to know how much money I was earning. At the same time, they took the trouble to list their own connections and the high positions occupied by relatives. Some parents enclosed their daughters’ photographs. They were very good photographs, though there was a certain amount of touching-up employed."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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9. Susanna’s Seven Husbands

................................................................................................

Familiar, from the Hindi film (based on this story) that was made by the man whom this collection is dedicated to, along with his wife, Susanna’s Seven Husbands seems based on facts.

................................................................................................

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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10. A Love of Long Ago

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"I glanced once more at the deserted balcony, the withered, drooping plants. A butterfly flitted about the railing, looking in vain for a flower on which to alight. It settled briefly on my hand before opening its wings and fluttering away into the blue."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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11. A Little Song of Love

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"The wild geese are winging

"Their way to the north,

"And I know from their calling

"It’s time we went forth."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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12. We Must Love Someone

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"Somewhere in life

"There must be someone

To take your hand

"And share the torrid day.

"Without the touch of love

"There is no life, and we must fade away."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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13. The Room on the Roof (Extract)

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"Meena looked, and at the same time a deer looked up. They looked at each other with startled, fascinated eyes, the deer and Meena. It was a spotted cheetal, a small animal with delicate, quivering limbs and muscles, and green antlers."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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14. The Message of the Flowers

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It's unclear if the interpretations are Ruskin Bond's own.

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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15. Delhi Is Not Far (Extract)

................................................................................................

Another mistake from someone supposedly born and brought up in India.

"‘Are squirrels sacred?’ asked Suraj, curiously watching one fumbling with a piece of bread which we had thrown away.

One, there's no such story about Krishna and squirrel, much less about loving.

Two, the story about strikes on back of a squirrel involves Raama, who stroked back of one as it assisted in building of Setu across to Lanka.

................................................................................................

......................................................

September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

......................................................

................................................................................................

16. Who Kissed Me in the Dark?

................................................................................................

A tad Thurberesque here, especially about Thurber's hilarious story about the night the bed fell.

................................................................................................

......................................................

September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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17. Topaz

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"‘But wasn’t that her sister—your other sister?’

"‘I had only one sister—Hameeda—and she died, when I was very young. It’s an old story, ask someone else about it.’"

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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18. Love Lyrics for Binya Devi

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"I know you’ll come when the cherries

"Are ripe;

"But it is still November

"And I must wait

"For the green fruit to blush

"At your approach."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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19. On Fairy Hill

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"To the north, Landour with its rusty red-roofed cottages; to the south, the wide valley and a silver stream flowing towards the Ganga. To the west were rolling hills, patches of forest and a small village tucked into a fold of the mountain.

"Disturbed by my presence, a barking deer ran across the clearing and down the opposite slope. A band of long-tailed blue magpies rose from the oak trees, glided across the knoll and settled in another copse of oaks."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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Acknowledgements

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"My publishers and I would like to acknowledge Penguin Books India for permission to reproduce copyright material—An extract (p. 73 to 80) from Delhi Is Not Far, chapter twelve from The Room on the Roof and the story ‘On Fairy Hill’ from the collection Dust on the Mountain."

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

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Falling in Love Again:

Stories of Love and Romance

By Ruskin Bond.

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September 28, 2022 - September 28, 2022.

Purchased September 28, 2022.

ASIN:- B015A9TGZU

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Published by

Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd 2013

7/16, Ansari Road,

Daryaganj New Delhi 110002

Sales centres:

Allahabad Bengaluru Chennai Hyderabad

Jaipur Kathmandu Kolkata

Mumbai

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https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/5013679740

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Reviews - Books I Read - DRJG

Wednesday, September 28, 2022

Falling in Love Again: Stories of Love and Romance, by Ruskin Bond.

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