Town With A View

Artist Bulbul Sharma on the quiet charms of Kasauli

On a sultry August morning in 1841 a group of mourners walked home, weighed down by deep sorrow. They had just buried an infant, Letitia Lawrence, in a quiet place below Kasauli. Her grief-stricken parents, Henry and Honoria Lawrence, then decided to build a cottage in Kasauli from where they could see their daughter’s grave. From this melancholy beginning arose the hill station of Kasauli which still retains its somewhat mournful silence. Not for Kasauli the lively crowds and busy malls of Shimla. Instead, it prefers its exclusive group of loyal residents who zealously guard the hill station’s clean and quiet air. Perched at 6,000 feet, Kasauli with its breath-taking views of both the Shimla hills as well as the plains, remains quiet even at the height of summer. Being a hill cantonment has saved this charming souvenir of the Raj from becoming an overgrown concrete jungle like Shimla.

The magic hour is at sunset when the old residents come out to take the air. You will see many an elderly man with a wheezing dog trailing behind. Usually dressed in natty tweeds and a peaked cap, the old gentlemen will stop to greet each other, discuss the ever-changing weather or the happenings at the Kasauli Club. As they nod and speak they remind me of images from old Punch magazines, except that they suddenly break into Punjabi humour. Most of the old houses in Kasauli, bought by princely families of Punjab and by generals in the Indian Army around the time of Independence, have been maintained quite well. The cottages still gleam with wisteria while the red roofs have impish chimneys perched on them. Gardens are full of wild roses, hydrangeas, apricot and plum trees. Dahlias too were a part of these pretty gardens laid out by the homesick English ladies but these plants escaped into the hillside. Now, every September you can see hundreds of these truant flowers celebrating their freedom in different colours all over the hillside. In summer, the horse chestnut trees with their orchid-like flowers, which rise from the branches like a cluster of white candles, line the roadside along with tall pines.

The old Deodar trees which stand outside the Kasauli Club, shading its tennis courts, also have a busy birdlife with the verditer flycatchers, spotted doves, white-cheeked bulbuls and tree-creepers. The Himalayan Barbet, a colourful bird with a perennially shocked look, calls out here just when the ladies are gathering at the club for tea and rummy.

The Kasauli Club was founded in 1880 as the Kasauli Reading and Assembly Rooms by a group of Englishmen in dire need of company and good cheer. Now it is a lively place where most of Kasauli gathers during the season. For years the club has had a genteel shabbiness with giant sofas you could sink into but it has been recently renovated by an enthusiastic group of members who have taken care to retain the ‘colonial’ look. ‘‘We scraped off layers of paint carefully so that the original teak wood pillars and panelling can now be seen. The old pieces of furniture too have been restored. The bar has a fireplace now which was hidden earlier,’’ says Colonel Karnail Singh (retd.), Hon. Secretary of the club, pointing out a beautiful old archway which was discovered during the renovations.

After doing the rounds of the malls, breathing in fresh pine-scented air, you can either head for the club or wind your way down to have ‘bun-samosas’ at the bazaar

Besides the club, Kasauli does not have much to offer in terms of a social life and many a tourist, fed up with the solitude of the hills, has fled to livelier Shimla. Even in the days of the Raj, there were no scandals or interesting goings-on in quiet Kasauli. Though we do have one or two ‘gora sahib’ ghosts who are seen regularly riding on the upper mall. After doing the rounds of the malls, breathing in tons of fresh pine-scented air, you can either head for the club which offers temporary membership or wind your way down to have ‘bun-samosas’ at the bazaar, stopping en route to buy chocolates at Guptaji’s shop. ‘‘How are things in the plains?’’ Guptaji will ask and then give you all the news of Kasauli.

The two hotels of Kasauli, The Alasia and Ross Common, too like to maintain their dignified air like two dowager ladies. The former serves an excellent chicken pie which was taught to the cook decades ago by the late Mr Smalin. ‘‘The secret is to scold the cook first so that he pounds the chicken well in anger,’’ he told me once in his charming Russian manner. For modern comforts, spacious lawns and good food, there is Kasauli’s first luxury hotel — Baikunth Resort. A collection of 17 eco-friendly, independent cottages spread over 10 acres on the hillside have been built with a new design concept where the open outdoors become a part of the living spaces. ‘‘We wanted to build a resort where visitors can enjoy the green hillsides from their balconies and have plenty of space to relax and enjoy the mountain landscape. When you come to the hills you don’t want to be cooped up in a room,’’ says Rana Jolly, owner of Baikunth Resort, who along with his lively wife Rekha have made the resort an active, fun place.

Kasauli, with its cool, shaded paths, comes to life in summer when it’s migrant residents return to unlock their summer homes. But as soon as the June rains arrive, it chases everyone away, washing the town clean of dust, dry leaves and tourists. This really is the best time to visit Kasauli, when the air is sharp with the fragrance of wild flowers and fresh rain. The roads are empty except for a few black-faced langurs. You see the jagged line of grey and white mountain peaks clearly and hear the call of ravens as they fly across the valley. The town in June wears its old fashioned cloak with dignity and grace.