Showing posts from June, 2018


Dehradun is nostalgia. Like an old hand-knit sweater of yesteryears unearthed suddenly from an old wooden shelf. Or stumbling upon a handmade birthday card with sweet nothings scribbled all over. Or your last day school shirt copiously inked in kept and unkept promises of your friends. A sliver of time etched in the indelible state of what used to be.   When the early April morning still wore a half-sleeve sweater and the month of June alternated between sunshine and a heavy downpour. When an impromptu ride to Mussoorie was the biggest adventure ever and a halt at the Maggi point was the most romantic destination in the world. When the guests insisted on being served tea and morning breakfast in mother’s dew laden, well-carpeted garden to enjoy the breath-taking view of Mussoorie. And when at night, the sky lit up with a hundred thousand lights of the houses in the hill and you could actually feel the stars at your arm’s reach. Dehradun is nostalgia. Nostalgia o