Monsoonal Mussoorie

Mussoorie in monochrome.

Quiet hiss of rain on branches reaching over

The mist coming in, whiting out everything, and then vanishing 

Tendrils of clouds lazily lick up mountain spurs

 

And then the odd sun-burst brushing colour everywhere

Golden greens vividly to sight

And glory!  A rainbow.  No, two - one faintly mirroring the other

Landour has much to offer in the rains.

The key is to have a warm home to come back to.

It is so good to wander.  Be it around the top of the hill shrouded in the come-and-go fog

Or the more formal day-trip up to Bear Hill (or is it Bare Hill?).

You are rewarded with greenery galore.  Both on the macro and micro level - with occasional green-swath mountains opening up when mist-curtains part.  And a close look to the rocks on the side of the hill show micro-forests of dewey moss and lichen.

Drizzles and even the occasional drenching (good character-building) is so much more bearable when you trudge home to flowers galore (here the legendary Oakville garden)

And come indoors to steam and laughter and delicious smells and the utter joy of being with people you love.

Monsoon food can be fancy - or super simple.

But one golden rule.  It must be hot.  Nothing like something deeply warm to settle into you and give you the deep pleasure of warmth and comfort after coming in from the damp.

Hot wet kichadi (rice and dal cooked together) with a side of bitter-gourd sabji and an omelette, covered with dahi = something like heaven.

But as lovely as being in the warmth of your home is, the outdoors call.

It may be pelting rain at any given time of the day - just wait for about half an hour - things have changed and you can go out.

Landour is of course blessed with thousands of trees who loom grandly through the gloom.  Just looking at them pointing straight up, and you realise again how small we all are.

Over the last few centuries ago this was all geo-strategically important.  One of the reasons the British ramped up their empire building in India was the tall deodar cedars made excellent masts for ships - and with the rebellious American colonies not supplying the wood anymore, the Raj in India expanded to include this vital naval resource.  Later the expansion of the railway network all over India created a demand for hundreds of thousands of wooden rail ties - and meant that the lower Himalaya became a treasure trove of wood to knit the country together with the long snaking metal double-back-bones.

But many of the trees are not tall sentinels, being rather more like genial hunch-back like Himalayan oaks.  But just add a bit of sun and you have magic!

I can seemingly never get enough of seeing the beautiful colour-combo of black, light green and gold.  Just takes my breath away every time we are blessed to see this.

Drink in this beauty, gentle reader.

There is more where it came from.  

Not an infinite amount of course - and the thronging of ever bigger SUVs on the narrow roads can take away a bit of the joy.

But mercifully, there is still so much green to be enjoyed in Landour. 

And the monsoon lends its special charm to all of this.

You may look out of the house-windows and see the magnificent langurs loping by for a visit and a nibble on the fresh green leaves.

 

 And if you encounter then on one of your walks - you can normally come fairly close to the langur without them being aggressive (normally of course) to you.  As opposed to the more aggressive Rhesus monkeys that share the same monsoonally wet, rich green habitat.

Kids, please don't try this at home.  There are a lot of other ways to enjoy nature - but when a good middle-school science teacher sees something important, out comes the camera (It's for the kids of course)/.

Mussoorie and monsoonal mists will always be close to my heart because our beloved father was buried in Mussoorie three years ago on a foggy August 15th in Landour.

I accompanied Mum to Dad's gravesite this morning.  We wound our way down through the magnificent trees and ancient tombs that make the Christian Cemetery in Landour such a delight to be in.

Near the bottom we came to Dad's simple green grave.

Hope springs up.  It is good to number our days and gain a heart of wisdom.  Being in the place where the dead have been lain.  Seeing Dad's burial-site swathed in green and brown.  Knowing that the quiet and rest of that natural cathedral echo the comfort and joy that Dad has in paradise (and which he never stopped telling people about throughout his life).  Joy that it is possible to live a life worth living, since we serve a risen Saviour whose in our lives today.  Quiet gratitude mirrored by the sentinel trees around us.

It is so fitting that the day before as we were doing our walk around the 'chakkar' and as we came near to the Christian Cemetery we were blessed to see this in the late afternoon.  

Rainbows are promise-reminders.  We have forgotten about so many key things in life.  But to see a rainbow and you remember what the Lord said - entering into a covenant where he said that humankind and the other created order will never again suffer a colossal civilisation-destroying flood.

They shine out, giving us that arc of joy, prism-reflected by the sun's rays refracting through a shimmer of rain, somewhere far away.

Mussoorie in the monsoon.  Mesmerizing.  Magnificent.

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It has been a deep joy for Sheba and myself to stay with Mum at Shanti Kunj for almost 2 weeks now.    What rest.  What a home of love amidst the swirling mists punctuated by the odd sun-kissed evenings. Thank you Mum for hosting at this crucial time and allowing us to pray some more and prepare us to go to the 'States.' We are all very blessed. 

We head down to Delhi tomorrow after church (D.v. of course  - and then hope to catch the evening train - with a whole day in New Delhi at our disposal before Asha, Sheba and myself leave on a jet plane....