[ Peyom Jini ]
A little over a year ago, the government of Arunachal Pradesh took a very reformative step in strengthening and empowering the administrative capacity of the APCS officers, wherein the young officers of the Arunachal Pradesh Civil Service of 2020 batch were sent to the prestigious Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration (LBSNAA) in Mussoorie.
It was a first of its kind in the history of the state, and the APCS batch of 2020 was the first and presumably the luckiest to have ever availed the opportunity.
A brainchild of Chief Minister Pema Khandu, it was a customised training module, designed to address the specific needs of our state, in liaison with the LBSNAA. For this very purpose, a Centre for Northeast Studies had been initiated at the LBSNAA and the training programme was imparted under its aegis from 6-17 September, 2021.
The whole training programme was spread across about three months at various institutes of importance, like the IIM Shillong, AJNIFM Faridabad, and NEJOTI Guwahati, along with the LBSNAA, Mussoorie.
As a part of the APCS 2020 team, I was probably the only one who always had a dream of visiting Mussoorie since childhood; not as a future trainee officer but as an avid reader and ardent follower of the beloved writer Ruskin Bond. Therefore, the opportunity to be sent to Mussoorie officially served me two purposes: attend the training programme earnestly and meet Ruskin Bond in person to get an autograph or two.
On the very first evening we arrived in Mussoorie, we were put up at the residential hostels of the Indira Bhavan campus, which is an extension of the Charleville campus where officers of the IAS cadre are housed and trained.
The instructions were strict and straightforward, ‘Don’t do anything unbecoming of an officer; maintain strict timetable for classes and food; maintain formal dress code for classes and dining; strictly attend the morning physical exercise sessions; and mandatory evening extra-curricular activities. Everything would be marked and any discrepancy or delinquency would directly be reported to the government of Arunachal Pradesh.
The training classes were tightly scheduled and would start sharp at 9:30 am. Before the classes start, precisely at 9:00 am, a team of five to six officers would be selected randomly to walk up the dais and speak for strictly two minutes each on the teachings and learning from the previous day – a short recap session basically. Since anyone could be chosen, everybody had to be alert and maintain notes from the previous classes.
The training sessions each day would end at about 4 pm, to be followed by mandatory extra-curricular activities for about 45 minutes to an hour, wherein officers were expected to participate in music, drawing, painting, photography, etc, and present a cultural show/art exhibition at the end of the course.
It was only after the whole classes concluded at about 5 pm that the officers were free to rest or visit the market or roam about Mussoorie till 8 pm, before dinner. And this routine would continue the next day and on.
“Mussoorie has two legends of Anglo-Indian origin who have adopted it as their homes: first Tom Alter, the late famous actor known for his fluency in Hindi and famously known as the blue-eyed saheb. And second, India’s beloved writer and living Wordsworth, Ruskin Bond. They are the celebrities Mussoorie is proud of,” said Sunil, the shopkeeper at Cambridge Book Depot, a compact well-stacked bookshop on Mall Road.
“Ruskin Bond used to come down here every Saturday and interact with his young and old fans and sign copies of his books. However, due to the risk of Covid-19 and his frail health, he doesn’t anymore,” lamented Sunil when I enquired at his shop during an evening stroll at Mall Road with Nima, Kumman and Woipeng.
Disheartened, we settled down at a coffee shop overlooking the majestic Shivalik mountains and Dehradun for some hot beverages.
Every morning, unless it rained, the officers had to gather at the lawn of Abdul Kalam Hall precisely at 6 am in uniform tracksuits provided to us, and after a round of warm-up, had to form a team of two: one for a brisk walk with a PT instructor and the other for a spirited run with the LBSNAA deputy director Milind Ramteke himself in the lead. I would always be in the running team. The early morning runs on the empty streets of Mussoorie, resplendent with the earthy smell of pine trees and rhododendrons, was highly refreshing and invigorating. With the langurs munching tender shoots of oak, pine and rhododendrons looking down at us curiously, our team would run for about 5 kms every day.
After classes were over, while some officers played soccer at Charleville campus, roam or shop at Mall Road, I would pick up a mountain bike, put on a helmet and pedal exasperatedly up the mountains through the streets of Mussoorie. It was always engaging and enriching to be out in the fresh air and cycle spiritedly about the mountain roads.
“Where is Ruskin Bond’s home?” I enquired many on the narrow streets of Mussoorie. I had decided one evening to figure out his dwelling while biking on the outskirts of the town alone. “At Lal Tibba in Landour,” they directed.
Landour was about 45 minutes of cycling from Indira Bhavan campus. Biking through the bustling streets of Landour bazaar and occasionally walking-pushing the bicycle up the steep slopes all alone, I must have amazed many shopkeepers and passersby. They passed keen smiles and curious looks at me. Maybe they were amused that a lone cyclist wearing LBSNAA tracksuits was riding up those steep slopes where cyclists are hardly seen but superbikes and cars.
I kept on asking for directions and they happily guided. Such occasions were opportunities for small but fruitful conversations with the locals, who exhibited friendly benevolence and kind gestures when they knew that I was from another far, hilly state, training here at the LBSNAA.
After a continuous uphill ride and pushing the bicycle along for about an hour, I was standing alone on a steep narrow road with railings on the sides, confused whether I had come the wrong way because the path led to even further heights. A local Garhwali lady was the lone person walking down the street and, seeing a profusely sweating and flushed me, she smiled.
“Can you please tell me where Ruskin Bond’s home is?” I gasped.
“You are standing right below it,” she smiled, pointing her fingers up a flight of stairs leading up to a rustic minimalist house on the slope beside the road.
With a few windows overlooking Landour town and the mountains below, I asked, “This is Ivy Cottage? Ruskin’s home?” She nodded. I was overjoyed and sighed in relief, “Phewwww, finally.”
I looked up in contentment that I was not lost.
I had no intention or the moral epiphany of deliberately knocking on his door as an unknown, uninvited visitor, and, given his old age and the risk of Covid-19 looming large. My little escapade was just to find out where he resided, the one personality who had inspired me in many ways and had my umpteen respects. I was content just standing below his window, drenched in sweat and huffing, looking down the same view which he sees every day while sitting by his window and writing those enchanting stories from the heights of those mountains.
I realised the steep incline of Lal Tibba only on my downward. I didn’t have any pedalling to do but just steer and brake my way down all the way till Landour bazaar. Cycling alone on the outskirts of Mussoorie on those cold misty mountains up to Lal Tibba on concrete pathways without cars to whiz by or honk was pure delight. Though I couldn’t meet Ruskin Bond in person, the solo bicycle trip right up to his doorstep was at the least consoling and a humbling experience.
Our training concluded after about two weeks at the LBSNAA. It was a short but highly fruitful training programme. And my dream of meeting Ruskin Bond in person remained a dream still. However, I was content that I found out his haven amidst those pine mountains and rhododendrons, and I hope to meet him another fine day. (Peyom Jini is a Circle Officer)
