I am not much of a history buff. So, when I was given the
option of staying at The Shumshere in Dehradun as my prize for winning the
Kunzum #Indiaiscalling travelog contest, I did not feel much delighted.
I consoled myself with the fact that it would serve as a base
camp for day trips to Dhanaulti/Kanatal and Rishikesh - my two favourite
destinations in that part of the world. I was looking forward to breathing the
cool, balmy mountain air away from the heat and dust of Delhi.
However, four days at The Shumshere transformed my lens on
history. The century old mansion transported me to the colonial era with its
architecture, layout, furniture, décor and artefacts. The pictures and
paintings on the walls narrated stories spanning generations. I wondered about
all the people who had lived in that house - their lifestyle, their fears and
dreams. As I wound the grandfather's clock and heard it go tick tock, I
wondered how and when humans started tracking time.
The collection of books
catching dust on a vast variety of subjects tickled my abstract facilities.
I felt blue blood flowing through my veins as I was served
morning tea on the verandah facing the garden exactly at 7 am as directed. I
sat on the vintage Parsi mesh chair sipping my tea and being pampered by
courteous staff providing meticulous service. The old hunch backed mali tending
lovingly to the plants and flowers, and the khansama doling out delicious
treats added to the charm.
The four poster bed in the room with curtains and draperies in
floral prints reinforced the fantasy of being royalty from a different era. As
did the two blade fans hanging low from the very high ceiling.
At 9.30 am, the servants pulled down the chik (traditional
outdoor curtains reinforced with bamboo cane to shelter from the tropical sun).
Looking through it at the garden and the cottage beyond felt like looking at
magic eye.
My lunch for the day trips was packed in willow picnic
baskets complete with water bottles, fruits and napkins.
The icing on the cake was the suave and the glamorous
caretaker, Miss Harjeet Lali. She took our breath away as she shared she was 77
years old. Dressed fashionably with each strand of hair in its place, carefully
plucked eyebrows with even more subtly applied make-up, I felt shabby in her
company. I watched her as she passionately spoke about the history of the
house, the carefully chosen floral patterns of the drapes (Prince Charles has
the same floral pattern curtains as the one donning the dining hall at The
Shumshere) and the training of the staff.
Each nook and corner in that 8 bedroom house brought out the
romantic in me. On the last evening of my stay there, it poured heavily. I
couldn't resist the temptation of dancing on that wet grass in the rain.
And as the rain stopped, and a new Sun shone its glorious
light over the garden of The Shumshere, life seemed perfect and beautiful. I
was ready to leave Eden.
Thank you The Shumshere for stirring the romance within me.
