Delhi is not Far by Ruskin Bond

fiction

by Divenita | on October 22nd, 2011 | 0 comments

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

- William Blake

I surmise William Blake would never have known that as a euphemism of this write, someone with a mix of Indian and British blood would write books in simple words and help us explore the naivety and simplicity of people around us.

Yes! I am speaking of Ruskin Bond and the writing is the 111-page book Delhi is not Far.

Plot:

In a town near Delhi, Pipalnagar, Ruskin befriends people who have dreams that they feel would be fulfilled in the capital of our country. Ruskin, through their eyes, tells us about them their nature of work.

Associates of Ruskin vary from Kamla, the prostitute, Arun, a barber, and Suraj, an epileptic with a positive attitude with whom he spends most of the time gorging on his company. The story revolves around the lives of these people.

Ruskin bond’s simplistic style of writing made me ponder over the regular people whom we meet and how they inspire us.

I felt the novel “Friends in small places” was a better read than this. I was ambitiously expecting it to be a great read, hence I feel so.

But, if you like Ruskin’s style of writing, you should read this one.

Best lines:

I can see the extremities of the building. If I stand on tiptoe and lean forward, I can see part of the narrow courtyard below where children—the children of all classes of people—play together. (when they are older, they will become conscious of the barriers of class and caste)

Sometimes I make love as a sort of exploration if all that is physical and sometimes falling in love becomes exploration of the mind. Love takes me to happier distant places

Price: 150 INR but can be purchased for less at: http://www.flipkart.com/books/0144000954

Ruskin says “I wrote this novella in the 1960s, when I left Dehra Dun for New Delhi. I thought i would find fame and fortune in the capital; I found nothing of that sort. And so, in the mid 1960s, I made for the hills, where I did at least find space and contentment”