ON MULLINGAR HILL: Memory,Movement, and Belonging in a Himalayan a Hill Station
By Joyce Burkhalter Flueckiger
Hardcover Pages 337
Primus Books Rs 2450
Mullingar Hill stretches from the base of the small chowk to the edge of Mullingar. Written in the interview format, the story of twenty-odd families who have made homes in the narrow lanes of Landour. Taking the reader by the hand, the author gently guides you from shop to store; from one home she steps into another, and the book peels back layers of our lives.
Here in Mansaram Cricket lives Mohmmad Tahir and Gulam Nabi, who are bakers from Ghoghas in Tehri Garhwal. ‘So, in 1947, when there was some unrest between Hindus and Muslims, and some people from Pakistan came to India, and some from India went to Pakistan – in the time of my dada, there was the Charles Bakery. And my father used to work there.’
‘The Raja of Tehri brought us here. Our family members used to make glass bangles (churis). We used to decorate the top of the glass (he shows indented lines in the glass, painted gold) If we hadn’t stopped that profession, we would all own bangle factories now. But our ancestors left bangle-making.’
The author takes the reader back to her days at the nearby school, where Tahir’s father would be found sitting outside the gates selling ‘tuck’, a small shop selling candies and packaged snacks to students. Opening a battered tin trunk that he carried on his back revealed a wide array of pastries and candies. His speciality was macaroons and home-made toffees. Tahir repeated a litany that maps households across the hillside with a tin trunk carried on his head. His list created a geographic and social network between the British-era houses – Ellengown, Bothwell Bank, Fairview, Firs Cottage, Pennington, South Hill, and so many others. Sonu Ram Bhatia
Above this is a shop, owned by Sonu Ram Bhatia and his son Ranveer, who cobbles hand-crafted sandals. These days sold primarily to tourists. His great-grandfather came to these hills from Mandi in nearby Himachal Pradesh. Though they live in nearby Jaunpur, at home the family still speaks a dialect of Himachali. Will they go to Himachal? But for Sonu and his son, the point of no return was crossed a long time ago.
‘There is no one there now. Our uncle also passed away. His family is there, and we have left everything to them. We are not going to take these things with us; one day, we will leave everything behind. We are doing well here; we are earning well, eating well.’
Around the bend, you will find Jaswinder Singh, or ‘Smarty Singh’ (as the entire bazaar calls him). You will find him directing traffic on the steep hill, helping tourists and taxi drivers from the plains negotiate the incline opposite his shop. Originally, his family came here from the hills, across the border, and after the initial struggle, settled down in these hills.
What keeps him here?
‘The people here – Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs – they all live in harmony. They all come to each other’s affairs -festivals, weddings and funerals. He says: ‘ If I am not feeling well, they will come and ask: ‘What happened? Is everything alright? Why didn’t you open the shop yesterday?’
‘If I am sick and in the hospital, they will come to see me. You don’t have this gesture in Delhi, in metropolitan cities, not even in Dehradun. This thing is only in Mussoorie. If someone dies, the whole bazaar is closed; everyone gathers to pay their condolences for the family, and they go with the dead body as it is carried down the hill until it is taken for cremation on a vehicle.’
On Mullingar Hill is a labour of love. This excellent piece of research could well be your personal guide as you make your way up the narrow lanes of good old Landour Bazaar!
