There are some places which we visit often in our childhood and their memories stay with us throughout our lives. Sometimes we revisit these places later in life while some of them exist merely in our memories, never to be seen again.
In the Doon valley’s cantonment area near the old Circuit House (now the Raj Bhavan) stands a grove of pine trees which seems to have come into existence when the valley itself was born. When I was a child, we used to visit this green grove many times in a year. It was one of my father’s favourite places in the valley. We used to spend hours walking around the grove, picking up the fallen pine cones and bringing them home to paint them in bright colours and put them in the sitting room as works of our childish art. When guests admired these cones, we were thrilled by the appreciation.
The pine-scented breeze at the grove enchanted our senses and even now, whenever I get a whiff of pine perfume anywhere, I am straight away transported to my childhood visits to the grove and all the happy times associated with those days. Our little picnics in Doon cantonment, our simple joys sans televisions, computers and mobile phones, the unpolluted charming valley of Dehra, the rides on tongas to school and the bazaar, the almost empty streets of the town, the little caféterias and the many cinema halls where we went to watch movies which had amazing looking heroes and heroines and beautiful songs. All these and so many more memories come to me even today when I drive to the cantonment, passing by the pine grove.
Yes, it is still there. But it is a far cry from what is used to be all those long years ago. Between the way it exists in my memories and the way it actually is today is a vast difference. I feel that many of the trees have been either felled or have died away naturally. It is rather sparse now and has lost its richness and beauty to a great extent. It seems a shadow of its former self. When I drive past it, it seems to call me towards itself, recognising me as the child whose laughter and joy used to echo in its dark green depths many a Sunday morning.
I do not have the courage to actually enter the grove. looking at it from a distance is what I have been doing for many years now. Sometimes I feel it is not a good thing to visit places whose memories are eternal in our minds and hearts. The changing reality of these places can disturb us when we actually see them later. But the sight of the grove from far does not disturb me. It just brings mixed feelings of happiness, regret, nostalgia and also a quaint sadness. I somehow like the feelings it evokes. I know well that like the beloved pine grove, my life has also become sparser and poorer in many ways over the years. It is not spontaneous and carefree as it used to be. It is bereft of joy, charm and wonder.
Despite all these thoughts and feelings, each time I cross the grove on my way, something pulls as if at my soul and I can see my parents, my brother and myself walking about amid the pines, inhaling the heady scent and taking in the tranquility that reigns supreme at this spot in the valley.
Those pines still stand tall. life has passed by too soon. Childhood and Youth, those precious phases of life have slipped out of my hands. But I am still here and so is the pine grove. Is it trying to give me some messageIJ A message of fortitude to face the ups and downs of life, standing tall in the face of storms and strong windsIJ I surely need such a message as I have been witness to many a storm in life. These pines, friends of my childhood, perhaps know this and would like me to learn from them.
People do not pick up the pine cones any longer and children do not care to paint them. They have many other things to do. But I am glad we could build a relationship with the grove which has lasted so long. And I still have a couple of coloured pine cones in my sitting room.