On the occasion of World Book Day (April 23), it is appropriate to talk about Ruskin Bond's latest novella Tales of Fosterganj’. This is not the usual Bond. There are several things that make it quite far removed from the kind of fare which a Ruskin Bond reader is familiar with.
Fosterganj, the small quaint hamlet in the hills near Mussoorie (actually it is Barlowganj disguised as Fosterganj), is almost like a character in this book which is a sort of a novel as all the stories are interlinked. The atmosphere of the town is rather strange and so are most of its inhabitants. The author (narrator) stays here for a while, taking up a room on top of baker Hassan's shop. He comes to visit the bazaar of Fosterganj from Mussoorie, something charms him and he decides to stay for some time and write in the little room he takes up. He meets several good but mysterious and eccentric characters and soon becomes a part of the hamlet which gives the impression that nothing happens in it. Actually, as the author and the readers soon discover, a lot of things do happen and these are surely not normal events.
The book is set in the 1960s and includes many of the author's memories of that era. He has said so in his Author's Note and Dedication that… "some of the events recorded here really happened."
The opening chapter introduces us to Foster after whose grandfather the hamlet is named. This one is the last Foster of Fosterganj and is in a state of penury, offering to sell gladioli to the narrator. He lives in a broken down cottage and keeps coming up with ideas to make some sort of a living. Hassan, his family, the mysterious boy and the woman living in the ruined palace half way down to Rajpur, Sunil the pickpocket and Vishaal, the bank manager, are the main characters in the novel besides the omnipresent author as the young writer. The highpoints of the novel are the author's close encounters with a leopard and a sinister black bird, a drunken evening with Foster, a long night spent locked inside the haunted palace and a journey to the cantonment in Chakrata to deliver a boxful of gemstones.
Each of the thirty one chapters is self-contained and yet linked beautifully with all the others due to the background and the characters/inhabitants of Fosterganj. And the narrator is, of course, the vital link that gives the unity to the narrative, making it more like a novel. Suicide, murder and ghosts all happen in this latest work of Bond, who has often written about these in earlier works. Kapoor of Empire Hotel in Mussoorie is found hanging from a chandelier in the hotel's ballroom when the business goes down after independence. "Mr. Middleman" is killed with a walking stick in the middle of the forest. The screams and screeches in the ruined palace make the narrator as well as the reader shudder with fear and apprehension. The exotic gemstones that are sometimes lost, sometimes found and sometimes scattered add a fine, exquisite touch to the tale Chakrata, which has hardly ever been mentioned by Bond earlier features in this book as a charming cantonment hill town where the narrator goes to run a secret errand.
The humour is there but sometimes it is rather dark. The one-eared Buddhoo and the one-eyed caretaker at Chakrata, the presence of the slippery rock lizards and the fleas and bugs which attack the narrator and Sunil - all get together to create an atmosphere which may cause a bit of discomfort to a reader of Bond. And the brooding presence of him, the boy-man, adds to this feeling.
And if all these were not enough, a fire and an earthquake also are part of the events in the book! So Fosterganj, the quiet little hamlet, is very deceptive in making us feel that nothing must be happening there. A professor is eaten up by a leopard and this is described casually by the author… as if it is one of the things that happen every day. The cover of the book looks innocent enough. One can never get an idea from this about what one is in store for after opening the book and starting to read.
The book is multi-faceted and holds the reader's interest till the end. There could not, indeed, have been any place more unsuited than Fosterganj for the writer to choose to camp for a couple of months to do some quiet writing! So happy reading to all, on World Book Day!