An Anecdote on the Slow and Steady lifestyle of Shimla
Striking a conversation about school life is for sure a great icebreaker.
But what really starts the conversation is the celebration of life.
The one that’s exclusive to the grade sheets and serves as an appendix to the tiring 12-year-long contract of instructions;
The grumpy eye rubs that follow the snoozing of the alarm clock, the never-ending hope of convincing the in-house seniors with an excuse to stay indoors, the excavation expeditions for finding the other sock, and the thought of living the deadliest nightmare of forgetting your school diary at home
We have lived our fair share in this chaotic landscape.
Travelling back and forth in yellow buses, saving seats for our besties.
peeking out of the window and leaving behind souvenirs in between the seats ; only to have something to search for the next day and every day.
….
Mountains and the slow life;
a phrase overused by the influencer world and underrated in experience.
The frame is set in Shimla’s infamous tourist hotspot; The Mall Road.
Shops, restaurants, and iconic parts of British heritage are competing to steal your attention.
And amidst all of this chaos, in the cold shades of the hill station;
You can spot Blazer clad tots racing up the incline.
Huffing and puffing with their loaded bags
As they travel to school, which is on the other side of the market,
For you see, vehicles remain banned in this stretch since the times British smoked cigars in the brown soil they racially betrayed.
(Oh, they left, and boy, did they leave everything to stay )
These walks might be entertaining for these students, I feel, to see a slice of the tourism that happens in their town every day, the aura that comforts them to walk a bit slower.
As enticing as it might be for them to hop through the streets, certainly it’s entertaining for the spectators as well(at least for someone like me :P).
A few, halting at the count of every 10 foot spans, and indulging in the distractive discussions of the market routines.
“What’s fresh by the produce, why is he clicking, and what? How close are the bunch of monkeys to the madame’s hat, and let’s bet on how much one could get scammed for that shawl?”
There are some that turn every 5 seconds to show silly grimaces to the slower partner of the climb.
And some goofy siblings who clearly collect enough points to vindicate the evening on their side of the court.
There are also some parents and grandparents accompanying their kids through this space.
taking breaks in the seats randomly arranged through the stretch.
If you lend your ears to their company , there is a continuous dialogue of exchange you can entertain.
Some moms make their kids complete their homework.
Some are making them revise their lessons,
There are a few complaining about the distance,
some eyeing piggyback rides
And some, requesting their guardians to go to school instead (“Aapko school jaana hai toh chale jao, mujhe toh yahi bethna hai !”as quoted by a little plum!)
I am certain this is just a tiny episode from the reality that thrives here.
Most of them are living contentedly in their fulfilling small world of leisure, captivating energy, and breathtaking beauty.
A type of culture and style of life that is so admirable for a city occupant like me
And that explains why localities don’t really appreciate tourism beyond certain limits.
The fear of exploitation that probably grips them and the idea of forced diverse habitation that could diminish the old world charm and make them just like any other city pinned on the map.
…
How exactly do we balance out the mayhem between appreciation of little things and exaggeration of their worth?
Do we welcome them with hugs, extending open arms, or instead dedicate a namaste with folded arms?
Illustration Courtesy : Sagarika Sreenivas
