For many a reader the address Landour Bazaar, Mussourie must be a familiar one .At least for book lovers it certainly is- for here resides one of Indias most lovable authors of children and grown ups alike- Ruskin Bond. Many of us have grown up on his books and the gentle , narrative simple style appeals greatly. The India that Ruskin Bond portrays is the India that we know - not exotic tales of Maharajas and wild tigers meant for the Western reader.  His beautifully crafted stories with their meandering tales weave a kind of  soft magic about you as you read .

The rotund, bespectacled, smiling man is a much loved man in the hill town of Mussorie.

He keeps to himself , living in a cottage with his adopted family and writes because writing comes as naturally to him as breathing. His stories are of India and the India that we know - of little children walking to school on dusty roads, of people who are as ordinary as you and me, of the hills of Kumaon, of the deodar and acorn tress and the rumbling of the river as it tumbles over itself in its eagerness to reach the sea. Gentle humour, a mellifluous style and serene prose characterize his writings. Keen observation of his surroundings, delighting in the bedlam of his adopted family, a few home truths thrown gently at you in the  form of musings form the atmosphere of this book which is really more of a language.

Ruskin Bond has written many a book of stories for children, ghost stories, short stories and poems and books which are a collection of his musings. The latest to be published by Rupa Paperbacks is, "The India I Love." It is a lovely litany of anecdotes straight from his heart. Most of the essays are taken from unpublished materials in his journals and there some simple , down to earth moving poems . His writings are , as he says, about the "people living across the road, and behold, the people across the road are sometimes reading my books."

Simplicity delights him and he writes , " I do not have to take passage to the moon to experience the moonlight. On full moon nights, the moon pours through my windows, throwing my books and papers and desk into relief, caressing me as I lie there, bathing in its glow. I do not have to search for the moon. The moon seeks me out".

This book is for those who, having read Ruskin Bond would love to take a peep at the real man within. It would also serve as a lovely introduction to those who have never come across his works. The simplicity and gentle humour with which he tells his tales absorbs and entertains, even though there is no spine tingling suspense or action packed drama in this narrative. Interspersed with a few lines of poetry the 10 chapters make interesting reading. It is apparent from a reading of any of Ruskin`s writings that he was always one with nature. He admits time and again that he writes best when he is amongst the natural elements. Not for him the computer and the word processor; a notebook and a pen or pencil under an acorn tree are enough to set this thoughts flowing. As he rightly points out, one can hardly lug a computer along wherever you go or curl up with your typewriter under a warm quilt on a cold night.

A few excerpts picked up from the book, " The India I love" by Ruskin Bond.

To light a fire,
We must kneel;
To change a tyre,
We must descend;
To pluck a flower;
We bend;
To lift a child,
We bend again;
To touch an Elders feet
We do the same.
For prayer; or play, or just plain mending,
There`s something to be said for bending!

" I write for myself, but as I also write to get published, it must follow that I write for others too. Only a handful of readers might enjoy my writing, but they are my soul mates, my alter egos, and they keep me going through those lean times and discouraging moments….

I did not set out to make a fortune from writing ;I knew I was not that kind of writer. But it was the thing I did best…..Happiness is a matter of temperament rather than circumstance, and I have always considered myself fortunate in having escaped the tedium of a 9-5 job or some other form of drudgery."

" Completed my half-century and launched into my 51st year.
Fifty is a dangerous age for most men. Last year there was nothing to celebrate, and at the end of it my diary went into the dustbin. There was an abortive and unhappy love affair (dear reader dont fall in love at fifty!), a crisis in the home, conflicts with publishers, friends, myself. So skip being fifty. Become fifty-one as soon as possible; you will find yourself in calmer waters. If you fall in love at the age of fifty, inner turmoil and disappointment is almost guaranteed. Dont listen to what the wise men say about love. P.G.Wodehouse said the whole thing more succinctly: "You Know, the way love can change a fellow is really frightful to contemplate". Especially when a fifty year old starts behaving like a sixteen year old !

Most of my month`s earnings went to the dentist. And I notice he`s wearing a new suit."