Ruskin Bond — this person made me fall in love with nature, his words taught me how to take pleasure in writing and gave me a childhood that was blessed with beautiful tales from the hills. Unhurried Tales compiles Bond’s choicest stories and novellas that evoke the same long lost feelings of joy. Much like the title of the book, these tales have no rush to get anywhere and therefore serve as a time capsule that allows you to slow down, think back to the days before the advent of mobiles and revel in nostalgia. Bond’s writing style is a treat for anyone who has even a remote love for the language and its many mysteries. He weaves stories of heartbreak, youth and of the many hardships in a way that doesn’t leave you feeling sad.
The stories have a quality about them as they stir the old and familiar — an amiable grandmother, a chirpy uncle, the friendly porter and the ruthless train passenger. These stories have characters that will make you smile as you read along.
Now we might be being a bit partial here: Ruskin Bond has an uncanny knack for writing, which gives him the ability to teach you about a simpler time with landlines, tongas and towns that are now long forgotten. His stories take you through a variety of emotions from the inadvertent writer’s block to the disappointment of losing someone you once held dear. Once again, Bond masters the art of telling stories of the small-town life without the complexities of the rush we all experience in the godforsaken metros today. This is an India that you may not have lived in but helps you gain perspective nonetheless.
What doesn’t work?
The stories might form a lull, as each of them is placed in a similar setting of a tinsel town. For the hurried and impatient readers of this age—fondly nicknamed as the millennials—this book may not serve their palette.
But I, on the other hand, love Bond for giving us a gift of time. Read the book in your long metro journeys from end of the city to other, read the book before bed and read the book so that you can appreciate the little things we hardly ever take the pain to observe.