![]() I only knew her name was Koki and that she had come to the hills with her aunt for the summer I didn’t need to know anything else about her, and she didn’t need to know anything about me except that I wasn’t really a ghost-at least not the frightening kind. And after some time, she turned around and smiled at me, and we became friends. She said nothing but stared out of the window, first uncomprehendingly and then with increasing interest. ‘Come here,’ I said, and I took her to the window and showed her the world. ‘Where’s your magic?’ she asked, looking me in the eye. And when she entered the room, she brought a magic of her own. ‘Why don’t you come up and see for yourself?’ She hesitated a little but came around to the steps and began climbing them, slowly and cautiously. She laughed again, but this time without mockery. Most children don’t like adults smiling at them all the time. I didn’t think her remark was particularly flattering, but I had asked for it. She laughed, and her laugh had a gay, mocking quality. She must have been about ten or eleven years old. Her eyes were black like her hair and just as shiny. She had long, black hair that fell to her waist, tied with a single red ribbon. The next morning, the girl looked up from the garden and saw me at my window. They went into the house and the tonga moved off, the horse snorting a little. A girl and an elderly lady climbed down, and a servant unloaded their baggage. In the early summer, a tonga came rattling and jingling down the path and stopped in front of the house. The path was not particularly busy, but it was full of variety-an ayah pushing a baby in a pram the postman, an event in himself the fruit and toy sellers, calling their wares in high-pitched familiar cries the rent collector a posse of cyclists a long chain of schoolgirls a lame beggar. I looked out on the banyan tree, on the garden, on the broad path that ran beside the building, and out over the roofs of other houses, over roads and fields, as far as the horizon. But then I discovered the power of my window. There was also a mango tree, but that came later, in the summer, when I met Koki and the mangoes were ripe.Īt first, I was lonely in my room. I wasn’t very busy that year-not as busy as the inhabitants of the banyan tree. The squirrels were busy in the afternoons, the birds in the mornings and evenings, and the foxes at night. They were two squirrels, a few mynah, a crow and at night, a pair of flying foxes. The banyan tree, just opposite, was mine, and its inhabitants were my subjects. And from the window of my room, I owned the world. I don’t know whose room owned the chimney, but my room owned the roof. It was a long, low building which housed several families the roof was flat, except for my room and a chimney. I came in the spring and took the room on the roof. ![]() All-Time Favourite Nature Stories || Ruskin Bond ![]() Read this excerpt from the All-Time Favourite Nature Stories to catch a glimpse. ![]() Whether you are a long-time admirer of Bond’s work or have just been introduced to his artistry, let these stories whisk you away into the nostalgia and timeless beauty that surrounds us all. With tales that touch the heart and soul, Bond reminds us of the importance of connecting with nature and finding comfort in its earthy embrace. Dive into the enchanting world of Ruskin Bond, one of India’s most beloved authors, as he takes us on a literary journey through his latest book, All-Time Favourite Nature Stories. ![]()
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