“Mussoorie Medley" book to be launched at int. book fair Delhi

  MUSSOORIE, 6 Jan: Author, photographer, trekker Professor Ganesh Saili, a permanent resident of Mussoorie, is ready once again to entrance readers with his articulate account of the changing landscape and people in his latest Coffee Table book, aptly named “Mussoorie Medley: Tales of Yesteryear”.
The book creates the magic of Mussoorie during the era of the British Raj till the present time. The tales and gossip of the small town are an integral part of the book, providing entertainment value. The book goes on to outline the bizarre and unique characteristic of the town, which was completely different from any other hill station.
Speaking to GP, Professor Ganesh Saili says that Mussoorie had always been a sort of “sin city”.
Reading out excerpts from his book - “‘A bold, bad place was Mussoorie in those days, according to the correspondent of The Statesman, who in his paper of October 1884, wrote “Ladies and gentleman, after attending church, proceed to a drinking shop, a restaurant adjoining the Library, and there indulge freely in pegs, not one but many; and at a Fancy Bazaar held this season, a lady stood up on her chair and offered her kisses to gentlemen at Rs 5 each. What would they think of such a state of society at home?”. He clearly divulges the character of the town then. The book goes on further, ‘Luckily, a Statesman correspondent was nowhere in sight at a 1932 benefit show, when a Mussoorie lady stood up and auctioned a single kiss, for which a gentleman paid Rs 300!’ The book also explains that Mussoorie was a pleasure dome for the Maharajahs and Nawabs of the time.
Saili’s Mussoorie Medley.. is a well researched book that correctly identifies the cottages and houses of yesteryears, as the excerpts from the book suggest. “For Landour, still in love with its past, has old bungalows clinging on to their names. The roll-call includes Alyndale, Firs, Seaforth, Shamrock, Bellevue and Oakville. Please forgive us, if at all, for some of our unpainted roofs. I admit they look like they have been hammered-out of rusted biscuit tins! Trouble is, the early houses, covered with thatch had leaky roofs that poured like sieves in the monsoon. Over a period of time, they were replaced by the ugly but practical galvanised tin-sheets. What happens, in our times, the owners often forget to put on a lick of paint! This minor aberration apart, the cantonment has almost escaped the developer’s myopic gaze. Climb up through the narrow bazaar and you emerge in a mountain-top world of deodar trees, church spires, flowering gardens and panoramic views. This is as close as you can get to unspoilt British India. Luckily, the army owns all the land. There is a pretty good chance it will stay that way!”
The book also describes the poignant tale of shutting down of the Cinema Halls in Mussoorie in articulate fashion. It goes on, “Few of them know that when he is not sleeping, Ruskin’s a great film buff. He and many other old-timers like him wish the town’s six movie halls had not downed their shutters! Once upon a time, entertainment was promised even if you did not like the film. Take, for instance, the Electric Picture Palace; opened in 1912 (the year electricity came to town) Mussoorie’s oldest cinema, which, down the years had admittedly lost some of its spit and polish. The lumpy seats had seen better days. Sometimes, they acquired a life of their own, sliding off with the occupant, literally flooring the audience with laughter! Or, in a squall, under the onslaught of rain and hail, the steady tattoo of the tin roof, drummed out the sound track, taking you back to the era of the silent films. Years later, the basement reincarnated as the Jubilee Cinema. They forgot to fix the leak on Picture Palace’s roof. Over many monsoons, the rusty water trickled down, staining half the silver screen brown... Yes! You could still see your film but half in black and white and half in sepia tone! Who would have dared thought of the same thing about the posh Rialto? Trouble was, on occasion, the inebriated projectionist would get the reels mixed up, with interesting results: the Vikings, slain in skirmishes half an hour ago, would be back, arisen from the dead, as it were, astride their horses again ready to do battle and die one last time! Literally, the last of our cinemas, at the end of Camel’s Back Road, on the ground floor of Summer House, was the Basant Cinema. Reincarnated as La Anjuman, the change of name did not help as the seepage of..........

n the spring of 1808, Captain Hyder Jung Hearsey and Captain Felix Raper became the first visitors to get a view of the Garhwal Himalayas from the bend near Lal Tibba in Landour.
For centuries the Himalayan foothills have been summer retreats, where, the chaans or temporary thatch-shelters of the local hill folk were the only signs of human habitation. It was left to the British to come up, move in and claim all the credit for discovering hill-stations all over India.