And then there is the grey uniformed peon from St George's school, who daily toils up a steep, unrelenting climb of some 4 km to the Mussoorie post-office and whose arrival for years together has been so predictable that one can set one's watch by him. I don't know his name, for our exchanged pleasantries are always brief and passing. Most would blanch at the prospect of daily taking on a mountainside but he treads effortlessly and, no matter how bad the weather, he is forever cheerful. Such personalities appear as much angelic as human. Mussoorie has several such characters. Perhaps they're drawn to Dev Bhumi?
