There could be no better way to begin Bookshelves and Backstories than with Ruskin Bond, the writer who has never been just an author to me but rather a companion, a guide and a gentle presence in my everyday world. When I think of Bond, I do not think only of the many books stacked neatly in libraries and bookshops. I think of him as Rusty Uncle, a figure who seems to live close by, quietly reminding me that life is not to be rushed but to be noticed.
To read Ruskin Bond is to step into a world that feels both familiar and new. He does not overwhelm the reader with complicated plots or loud declarations. Instead, he slows you down. He invites you to look at the rain dripping from a window sill, to listen to the chatter of schoolboys in a bazaar, to feel the comfort of a cup of tea shared with a stranger. His writing does not demand your attention, it earns it with simplicity and warmth.
When I was younger, I thought of books as escapes, doors to other places where I could leave behind what was ordinary. But Bond turned that idea upside down. He taught me that it is the ordinary that holds the greatest magic. A walk down a hillside path, a memory of a friend long gone, the smell of pine trees after rain—these are not escapes, they are returns. His stories return me to myself, to my own silences and longings, to the moments I might otherwise pass by without noticing.
What I inherited from Ruskin Bond is not a list of lessons written like commandments. It is something far more tender and lasting. It is a way of seeing. Through him, I inherited the courage to linger in a moment without guilt. I inherited the art of turning solitude into a friend rather than a burden. I inherited the gift of giving attention to the smallest details, which in truth are often the things that stay with us the longest.
He has shown me that home is not always a place with walls and doors. Sometimes home is a line in a book, a memory stirred by a familiar sentence, or a patch of afternoon sunlight that falls just right on the floor. Through Bond, I have learned that literature does not always have to take you to grand, faraway lands. Sometimes it simply brings you back to your own life, reminding you that it is enough.
So it feels only natural that this series, Bookshelves and Backstories, begins with him. The inheritance of quiet wonder. The belief that stillness can be beautiful. The reminder that the most ordinary day can hold extraordinary meaning.
Ruskin Bond is my favourite author not because he dazzles with extravagance but because he comforts with simplicity. He has been my companion in solitude, my guide in noticing beauty and my gentle teacher in embracing life as it comes. To begin this journey of sharing the books that shaped me, there could be no better starting point than him. For in every page of Bond I have ever read, I find not only his story but also my own.
And so, dear reader, I welcome you into Bookshelves and Backstories. This is not just a series of reviews, but a series of conversations—between books and life, between memory and meaning, between the written word and the lived moment. I invite you to walk with me through the pages that stayed, the stories that lingered and the quiet inheritances I carry forward. Perhaps, as you read along, you will discover your own backstories in these books and together we will realize that the greatest stories are the ones that shape us quietly, without ever announcing their arrival.
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