Tourism in Shimla

This article first appeared in the now discontinued monthly Himachal Guardian issue (Vol II) of 1994. The last issue in fact. The descriptions are now a little dated because of the decades that have passed. The author is grateful to Dr. Subhash Sharma (prof. of Fisheries, HP Agricultural University, Palampur) for giving his kind permission to re-print this article in this blog. A few corrections and annotations have been added here and there, and a few more pictures added. The original line drawings are in black and white. The newer ones have a dash of colour.

TOURISM IN SHIMLA

Tourists have always been attracted to Shirnla. Even when the British ruled India for half of the year from here, they seem to have expended most of their energies in socialising. riding on horses on the Mall, falling from horses off the Mall, golfing in Naldehra, seeing and being seen at the Gaiety Theatre, rumour-mongering, doing the Mall in the evenings, etc etc. So. even if they ostensibly came here to rule, the official work appears to have been more of an unpleasant distraction from the real business of enjoying Shimla.

What can the tourist expect to see, once he is actually there ? He will naturally see the TV tower. (but then, he need not have to actually be in Shimla to see it, the tower being visible from all the adjoining districts). If it is the Season, then the first thing he will see in Shimla is a traffic jam. The roads of Shimla were originally mule tracks. When the “motors” started making their presence felt in the Twenties, they simply kept widening the tracks and called them roads, steep mulish gradients and all. It is a wonder how the old model T Fords and Baby Austins handled those slopes. The small little car of some Viceroy, perhaps Lord Irwin, once had to be pushed up an incline near Khalini by BCS students, where he was headed to attend a function as the chief guest. Anyway, the roads which were built for wheeled traffic (the Mall, for one) are closed to the wheeled traffic of ordinary mortals. They used to be open for the old-fashioned rickshaws, which were dragged about by four sturdy fellows from Bilaspur or Arki; the last rickshaw was seen in 1992 or thereabouts. The new Tuti Kandi by-pass is too far out of the way to be of much use, except maybe as a by-pass. Tourists are advised to take a few large canvas bags with them. Then they can quietly dismantle their Maruti in some secluded spot and get a couple of Kashmiri “khans” to take those bags up to their hotel rooms.

Sports

On a Sunday, or any of the numerous holidays, holy days. mourning days etc. with which the school and office-goer is happily blessed, one cannot walk any of the bazars or by-lanes without encountering the sporting nature of the youthful citizenry, especially if it is not raining. More than once, the tourist will be obliged to interrupt his stroll on some path till the bowler has made his delivery and the batsman done his stuff. The paths having a decided gradient, the fielder’s lot is not a very happy one. The ball can roll on and still on, down the path – sorry, pitch – and  it may even roll right off. It is here that the passer-by on the road below is called upon to help. He sees three or four anxious faces peering down at him over the railing. A couple of those faces call out, “Uncle ji, ball dena.”

There are a few level playing fields on the Mall but the police does  not allow any cricketing there. And the Army booted out civilian players from Annandale long ago. Shimla never has been able to produce any international class cricketer as yet, no doubt due to the peculiar, canted nature of the unofficial pitches. Perhaps, if a cricket tournament were to be held on the top-deck of a sinking ship, a Shimla player would dazzle. Another deficiency of the Shimla cricketer, it is rumoured. is that in moments of stress, instead of shouting, “Howzzat” he lends to forget himself and appeals. “Uncle ji, ball dena”. I have not yet confirmed this rumour.

Annandale ground at sundown.

Cricket apart, a Sunday walk down the Lower Bazaar is often enlivened by lean little brats roaring down on roller skates, or by a game of marbles on any stretch of the road wherever it is level for half a metre, and not already occupied by someone selling plastic shoes. Watching a game of hopscotch (stapoo) on a 35 degree slope is an enriching experience.

Theatre/The Arts

The Gaiety Theatre is suitably located on the Mall. In case the performance in the theatre is bad, the police control room is also suitably located. Right next door. A bamboo danda on the head is known to help boisterous audiences cool down. The theatre oozes history from every dressed stone of its walls. It has seen a whole succession of well-known figures like Curzon, Kitchener. Kipling, etc. The Indian showbiz has benefited in some measure from Shimla’s theatrical traditions. Sadly, as in cricket, no hero has emerged. Only villains like Pran. Madan Puri, Prem Chopra and Anupam Kher. One girl did make it as a heroine but I am not sure if Priya Rajvansh (Haqeeqat) belonged to Shimla proper or some other town. One aspiring heroine who called herself Candy, instead of bedazzling cinema audiences, ended up as a bit player of the Emergency. To return to our villains. remember the old black-and-white movies.in which a nattily dressed Pran blows a couple of smoke rings, strokes his thin black moustache and leeringly shoots the hero’s mother? Or a nattily dressed Prem Chopra (thin black moustache etc.) gives a drawling laugh “Heh! Heh! Heh! Ab mein tumhe zinda nahin chhoroonga.” Or Madan Puri (natty dress, thin black moustache. evil smile etc.) says, “Is laash ko thikane laga do.” The audiences here have always loved those scenes. Only the last reel, in which the chocolate hero bashes up Shimla’s own, has failed to evoke the necessary appreciation among the audiences in Regal (now burnt down ), Ritz, Rivoh or Shahi. The cinema houses are running to seed now-a-days, thanks to video, cable and dish, and now the viewers enjoy the villainy from their sofas. Such a parade of villains has dampened spirits somewhat, and dramatic performances at the Gaiety seem to have given place to grand sales of ready-made garments. One hopes Shimla produces a hero soon, otherwise they might close up the Gaiety and make government offices there. (Sincere apologies to Priety Zinta, but this was written before her debut).

Sights

A sight no tourist is likely to miss in Shimla is the extraordinary number of signboards indicating a government office of some sort or the other. Quite a few are located in the most unlikeliest of places. The Pollution Board office is a stiff climb above the US Club (which itself is a stiff climb above the Mall ) on the top floor of a high building which looks like someone started to build a hotel and then abruptly changed his mind. I also remember once doing a stiff climb (what else?) to find the Weights and Measures office in what looked like a ruined church. But then, almost all government offices took like ruins. Cubby-holes / nooks/ crannies /closets/orifices etc. which are not already occupied by a government office, are then most likely to bear a discreet white and black plate of some lawyer. Surprising, the amount of litigation the people of Himachal can indulge in, considering that we do not even number one crore.

IIAS, formerly the Viceregal Lodge, as viewed from Tutu 

Where government offices are concerned, many a visitor has remarked on a most curious phenomenon that is observed in Shimla every so often. As soon as some auditor starts getting too nosey into the records of some office — the said office goes up in flames one fine night. Well-seasoned deodar wood burns fast and bright, and tourists can enjoy a free show from outside the police cordon. They tend to blame it on short-circuits, but I believe there is a deeper and more mysterious reason. The Department of Unconventional Energy Sources should try to crack this one and solve India’s energy problems. The scholarly-looking types in the Indian Institute of Advanced Studies should stop lazing about on the benches in the sun and get some real work done on this most baffling scientific conundrum. Perhaps, I ought to apologise if I gave the impression that the scholarly types at the IIAS — formerly Rashtrapati Niwas — and still formerly the Viceroy’s Lodge — only sit about on benches lazing in the sun. A couple of them were once seen to show a most satisfactory burst of activity when it suddenly started raining on their bench.

Another sight of Shimla which no tourist can miss is Mahatma Gandhi’s statue on the Ridge. Shimla residents have lived with that statue for decades and find nothing amiss. The newcomer, however, immediately notices that the Mahatma’s glasses are missing. The statue used to have spectacles (the frame only, of course) but they were filched, some time in the Sixties. The Concerned Authorities, whoever they may be, made numerous valiant attempts to replace those glasses. For a couple of weeks, I think in 1981, Gandhi ji even wore an undersized spectacles frame of pink plastic. But they were stolen, every last one of them. A squad of policemen’s statues, in the Nek Chand style, was posted behind Mahatma Gandhi’s statue; the dummy cops presumably were to stand guard over the dummy spectacles. The glasses thief was no dummy however, and is yet to be caught. The thefts continued. Now they have got a special pair made and keep it under lock and key. The statue gets to wear them on special occasions only. For the rest of the year Gandhi ji must perforce follow the dictum of one of his own monkeys See No Evil. And someone somewhere in Shimla has a sizable collection of spectacle frames. (Note added in 2013: They probably got sick of the whole spectacles business and took down the old pedestal and put the statue on a new, higher one. Now anyone wanting to sneak the specs will need a ladder).

Doing the Mall

Scotsmen are known to have got dewy-eyed
seeing these cast iron covers on the Mall:
Glenfield & Kennedy, Kilmarnock

This is one activity which has gone on uninterrupted ever since the British dug the Mall out of the hill-sides. This activity starts off at about five in the evening and picks up tempo, tapering off by eleven. In this. one marches resolutely from the Scandal Point to the Lift and back again, over and over. It has many advantages: physical fitness, meeting old friends. meeting old enemies when they aren't expecting you, etc. Doing the Mall is a capital way to meet anyone. That person will be doing the Mall too, and you are bound to cross each other. When a regular suddenly disappears from the daily round, he may be (a) out of town, (b) out of sorts, (c) in the next world, (d) owing money or otherwise anxious to avoid somebody. Persons desirous of meeting some Mall walker, but too lazy to do the rounds, simply drape themselves over the railings around Scandal Point and wait for the quarry, ogling St. Bede’s girls in the meanwhile. Mindful of this fact, the City Fathers wisely made the railings at the Scandal Paint extra strong. Should any of those railings ever fall down on a summer’s evening, I am afraid Ripon, Snowdon and the other hospitals will find themselves running short of plaster and X-ray film.

Old friends meeting on Mall after lengthy separation of 2 hours

Doing the Mall is de rigueur for Shimla residents, both permanent and temporary. The Lajpat Rai statue at Scandal Point is a mute witness to the numerous political careers that have been built up here simply by doing the Mall. If ever it is frustrating, it is to the Mall’s shopkeepers. Seeing such crowds, the commercial transactions taking place in the Mall’s shops is surprisingly tiny. Nobody seems to buy anything. Even the students thronging the Alfa, and the oldies crowding the Coffee House, only order a coffee and then sit around chattering or dozing meditatively for two hours. This helps explain why the managers and waiters have that resigned, tired look in the evenings.

Some Tips on What to Wear and Sundry Useless Advice

Like they say, do in Rome as the Romans do. Look carefully at the Shimla resident: what is he wearing? He is certainly not wearing a light summer dress. He will have a sweater, June or Jan. An umbrella completes his outfit. If the bowler and umbrella means London, duckback gumshoes with umbrella and sweater means Shimla. It starts to rain in Shimla without proper notice. None of that leisurely build-up of strato-cumulus, the lightning flashes, the rolls of thunder, the first few patters in the dust. No, In Shimla Lord Indra, the god of rain, believes in coming straight to the point. There you are, one moment, enjoying the bracing air and the sun out of a deep blue sky. A white little scrap of cloud, oh so innocently, gives a picturesque effect behind that clump of deodars. The next moment the sun and sky are replaced by murky grey. It starts soaking you immediately, without fooling around with the preliminary electrical and sound effects. Now the patient reader will appreciate my advice regarding that sweater and umbrella. If you don’t have the umbrella, perhaps it is best not have the sweater either. A sodden sweater is one of life’s tribulations. Even if it does not rain, the sweater-umbrella combine may help you while shopping — you might be mistaken for a local.

Now a word about what not to wear. When the tourist goes to the Ridge, he see a whole lot of photographers. A few of them offer to shoot you in “genuine pahari dress”. Quite a few times have I seen the tourists getting themselves snapped in pattoos provided by the photographers. This is not a bad thing if you are a lady, but when you are a man, it can get a bit embarrassing. But I should not be unduly harsh on the photographers. It can get quite boring, photographing tourists in the same hackneyed poses all the time. Photographers are entitled to their fun, and gentlemen can proudly display their snaps at the Lions and Rotaries in Bhaunagar, Howrah and Aurangabad without anyone the wiser that they are wearing a pahari woman’s dress.

If you are going to Shimla in your own car, my advice is — don’t! It is better to park it at some relative’s place in Chandigarh and take a bus — the service is excellent night or day. If you do not have such a relative at Chandigarh, then, on reaching Shimla, smile ingratiatingly at the nearest policeman and ask, “Please, havildar saheb (even if he is only a constable) to which place do you usually tow away impounded vehicles?” He should readily tell you, because he has to keep providing this information to mystified tourists looking for their cars. Or you could try to find a parking place in the Lift or Holiday Home car parks. Or you could buy a lottery ticket. Or you could look for a four-leafed clover. Or teach a cat to bathe. Who knows? You might even succeed.

Please do not get me wrong. Shimla is a nice place to holiday in, especially in the off-season, when it is cheaper. (I hope this last line will save me from the lynching I know the Shimla hoteliers, taxiwallahs, pony-wallahs. guides, photographers etc. may be preparing for me).