Roads to Mussoorie

by Ruskin Bond

Remember the old road, The steep stony path That took us up from Rajpur, Toiling and sweating And grumbling at the climb, But enjoying it all the same. At first the hills were hot and bare, But then there were trees near Jharipani And we stopped at the Halfway House And swallowed lungfuls of diamond-cut air. Then onwards, upwards, to the town, Our appetites to repair! Well, no one uses the old road any more. Walking is out of fashion now. And if you have a car to take you Swiftly up the motor-road Why bother to toil up a disused path? You'd have to be an old romantic like me To want to take that route again. But I did it last year, Pausing and plodding and gasping for air— Both road and I being a little worse for wear! But I made it to the top and stopped to rest And looked down to the valley and the silver stream Winding its way towards the plains. And the land stretched out before me, and the years fell away, And I was a boy again, And the friends of my youth were there beside me, And nothing had changed. 'Remember the Old Road'