Ruskin Bond
If you walk through the winding, mist-covered roads of Landour, a quaint cantonment town just above Mussoorie, you might catch a glimpse of an elderly man looking out from a window framed by ivy. For more than six decades, this man has been observing the play of light on the pine trees, the eccentricities of small-town residents, and the quiet dignity of the natural world. He is Ruskin Bond—the grand old man of In...
